False
by Anthony Murphy HMP Ltttlehey
To tell the truth in prison,
for many seems so hard
Why do people feel the need to put on this facade?
Everyone's a hard man, a gangster or a thug
Has every watch, drives every car, deals every kind of drug
Everybody knows him, he's famous in the ends
Never short of money, there's thousands in his spends
His prop boxes are bulging, with all the latest things
He swaggers round talking in slang and shouting round the wings
He makes out that he's running things, that he's the one on top
But one day he gets found out, and all that swagger stops
Prison is a small world, but changing all the time
And soon somebody comes along that knows him and his crime
Now the truth is out there and he has to avoid
All the ones he's lied to, threatened or annoyed
This gives him some problems, he can't go off the wing
No work or outside exercise, no access to the gym
They know he's not a hard man, a gangster or a thug
His watch is Worth a fiver, never even seen a drug
He has nothing to bargain with, and nothing left to swap
His prop box is a Ghost Town, nothing special to his name
He didn't have to tell these lies, there's no one else to blame
They create these false personas, but it never gets them far
Why can't they not just show themselves for who they really are.
