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Lyrics
[Intro]
Parklea yard
Cold air, hot heads
(Yeah)
Seven-three, three-three, six-one
[Verse 1]
Did my time in Parklea
Cold floor, steel frame
Number on my chest, not a damn name
733361 stamped on the chain
Real ones round me, not internet fame
Mongols in the corner playin' card games
Rebels on the rail talkin' old flames
Hells Angels at the table, same rage, same gaze
Whole wing buzzin' like a wasp cage
Every arm inked, every neck marked
Tatts climbin' up to the scalp, real dark
Teardrops tellin' stories that the files can't chart
You can smell what they done, it don't wash off the heart
Shanks in the lunch line, eyes on the guards
Laughin' at the screws, they ain't givin' no pard
You either stand tall or you fold like cards
I learned how to move with the killers and sharks
[Chorus]
Parklea correction, that concrete soul
733361, that number cold
Locked up with the riders, the stories they hold
Tatted from the forehead down to the soles
Parklea correction, that concrete soul
733361, that number cold
Real gangsters round me, hearts carved in stone
You can hear that anger in my tone (yeah)
[Verse 2]
Yard time short, but the beef run long
One wrong look and your face get drawn
Steel in the sock, boys ready from dawn
You either swing first or you don't last long
Saw lifers laugh at the fresh new kids
Said "welcome to the cage where regret digs"
You can pray to the sky, but the roof too big
Only thing that really talks is the life you lived
187 on they mind, see it in they stare
Some done the work, some just wearin' the air
Either way, every single one prepared
They don't brag, they just sit there, ice cold chairs
I kept my back to the wall, ears open
Counted up the days like chips I was holdin'
Swore on my name when that gate swung open
If I come back, it's 'cause the world stayed broken (ayy)
[Chorus]
Parklea correction, that concrete soul
733361, that number cold
Locked up with the riders, the stories they hold
Tatted from the forehead down to the soles
Parklea correction, that concrete soul
733361, that number cold
Real gangsters round me, hearts carved in stone
You can hear that anger in my tone (let 'em know)
[Bridge]
Steel doors slam, that echo still rings (still rings)
Voices in my head from the pod still sing (still sing)
You ain't from here, you don't know that sting
When a number on your chest mean more than your skin (more than your skin)
[Chorus]
Parklea correction, that concrete soul
733361, that number cold
Locked up with the riders, the stories they hold
Tatted from the forehead down to the soles
Parklea correction, that concrete soul
733361, that number cold
Real gangsters round me, hearts carved in stone
You can hear that anger in my tone (Parklea)
Details
GeneratedFeb 10, 2026
Duration3:33
LanguageEnglish
Style
rap, Aggressive Australian gangsta rap, male vocals; dark detuned bells over a sinister trap bounce, sub-heavy bass, sharp snare and short choir stabs. Verses tight and venomous, hook shouted like a yard chant with stacked gang vocals and ad-libs; brief filtered drop before final chorus for extra impact.
Credits
Prompt by
chrismichael331
chrismichael331ModelAria v5
Prompt
Did my time in Parklea correction facility my prison number 733361 was locked up with some real gangsters mongols hells angels rebels all mc club members tatted from head to toe 187 angry rap 
