Do Your Time Songtext
von Ludacris, Beanie Sigel, Pimp C & C‐Murder

You have a call from an inmate in a correctional facility
Inmate, state your name
It′s Darren
This phone call may be monitored and recorded
Press three if you accept the charges
If not, hang up

To my cousin Darren Ransom (Stay up, homie)
To my brother Chris Butler (Stay up, homie)
If you locked in the box, keep makin' it through
Do your time (Do your time), don′t let your time do you
To my brother Mikey Mike (Stay up, homie)
To my cuz J.B. (Stay up, homie)
If you locked in the box, keep makin' it through
Do your time (Do your time), don't let your time do you


You lookin′ at a man that would die for his daughter, just to let her breathe
And I′d definitely die for Jesus 'cause he died for me
Give my eyes to Stevie Wonder just to see what he′s seen
But then I'd take ′em right back to see Martin Luther's dream
I′d dream that I could tell Martin Luther we made it
But half of my Black brothers are still incarcerated
Locked up in a cell block, lost from the shell shock
Some sold they soul, others used to sell rocks
Look up in my mailbox
I get letters from my cousin every week, said he wanna hit the streets
But he never struck a deal 'cause his mouth will never squeal
Put some money on his books and help him out with his appeal
Send some pictures of the fam and nasty pics of Shawnna
And if you ever have to leave, I got your mother and your daughter
Born in this way of livin' and our youth was stuck
To be safe, it′s safe to say the justice system′s fucked up

If you doing 25 to life (Stay up, homie)
I got your money on ice, so (Stay up, homie)
If you locked in the box, keep makin' it through
Do your time (Do your time), don′t let your time do you
All my peoples in the pit (Stay up, homie)
And until you hit the bricks (Stay up, homie)
If you locked in the box keep makin' it through
Do your time (Do your time), don′t let your time do you


Until I went to jail, you couldn't tell me I ain′t seen it all
That box a motherfucker, it could stress a nigga bald
Especially when you broke and home base ain't acceptin' your calls
And you don′t hear your name when it′s mail time
Got them damn jailhouse barbers pushin' back on your hairline
Fuckin′ Sinequans'll have you stuck in that pill line
Your bitch missed the V-I this weekend
The food in your locker keeps shrinkin′, your celly feet stinkin'
The canteen ran out of menthols
Can′t see how grown men wash other men drawers
Niggas play the phone room reckless and get hit with new indictments
Talking about old connects and new prices
Stress'll take a young nigga, give him an old face
Stress'll take a dumb nigga, give him a new case
That′s shit I used to tell my walkie, Lil′ Itchy
All he did was smoke weed and drink coffee, I know he miss me

To my man Lil' Neal (Stay up, homie)
To my man Steve P (Stay up, homie)
If you locked in the box, keep makin′ it through
Do your time (Do your time), don't let your time do you
To my man Paul Selene (Stay up, homie)
To Abdul McKeith (Stay up, homie)
Until I see you in the streets, keep makin′ it through
Do your time (Do your time), don't let your time do you

If your people locked up, you need to send ′em some shit
'Cause it's never too late to stop being a bitch
A magazine and some pictures is a nigga′s whole world
When I was down, them niggas fell off, so I′m ridin' with the girls
′Cause they got more heart than them fake-ass dudes
Ain't send no letters, no books, and no money for no food
′Cause commissary is so very necessary
It's so close to being slavery, in Texas, nigga, it′s scary
I reached out to C-Murder right before I came home
And when them hoes let me go, I make sure that his books was on
And three months later, that nigga came home too
Ain't no limit to this shit 'cause now his dreams comin′ true
I′ma keep ridin' with Bun ′cause UGK will never stop
And I'ma stand up for my partners ′til they let them off a lot
Bitch, and I'm as trill as you can be
They scream, "Free Pimp C" but now see the pimp free (Here I go, C-Murder)

Wake up, roll call, another day gone by
Now put a "X" on November 25
I′m still alive, open the death row bars
Now this dead man walkin' parkin' million dollar cars
It′s slavery, hard labor, catch the feel
Redneck on the hearse while you walk, it′s real
With a shotgun, burnin' at the back of your dome
300 years left, my dawg ain′t never comin' home
One fight, dude got stabbed, he lost an eye
Almost died, in Camp Jay nigga, ride or cry
Cream had suicide attempts, Precious took his own life
White boys can′t handle the pain at night
You gotta fight for your shoes, or get your ass took
And walk around with lipstick and a pocketbook
You all in, bitch, sit down when you piss
Sweet-ass, you a ho, watch, I'll blow you a kiss, mwah

To my cousin Jimmy Watson (Stay up, homie)
To my homeboy Mack (Stay up, homie)
If you locked in the box, keep makin′ it through
Do your time (Do your time), don't let your time do you

To my nigga Pharaoh (Stay up, homie)
To my nigga Z-Ro (Stay up, homie)
If you locked in the box, keep makin' it through
Do your time (Do your time), don′t let your time do you
To the king Larry Hoover (Stay up, homie)
To my partner Shan-O, you gotta (Stay up, homie)
If you locked in the box, keep makin it through
Do your time (Do your time), don′t let your time do you

To the homeboy Shyne (Stay up, homie)
To my nigga Mystikal (Stay up, homie)
If you locked in the box, keep makin' it through
Do your time (Do your time), don′t let your time do you