I am boss man
All dressed in grey
When I stroll down the rung
All the inmates runaway
No place to hide their contraband
So they shove it up their can
No getting away when I pull out the rubber gloves
They scream no way
When I rip that cell phone out of their hole
I love to hear them b**h and moan
No mail for you
No one loves you no layins too
Man it s**s to be you
Somebody tried to shoot you a soup
I steped on it my bad oops
Go to the IDR and eat your food
If it goes straight through your drawers
Will be filled with poo
Now your smelling ripe
Take a bird bath
Before you and your cellie start to fight