and if y’know it’s sexy, to us right and see when they went for pa for this right so you say your pants for here man an somebody be up in yo butt y’know and it is just that simple.

Sarah Mitchell: That’s a vivid description of prison culture. But some might say this culture is a byproduct of a society that marginalizes certain groups, pushing them into environments where survival tactics like these emerge. The way you describe pursuing others—do you see it as an assertion of power in a system that strips it away?

Fleece Johnson: Power? I’m just bein’ me. I’m a warrior, you know? I told them cameras back then, “If y’all had been in here back then them days then an as much as I like bty, I’d probably fk one of y’all butts, and y’all could walking past me, and dare you to say something. I got no shame in my game, this is nothing I’m ashamed to admit. I am what I am, am a warrior too y’know so let that be known, I’m a warrior.”

Sarah Mitchell: Your openness is certainly bold, Fleece. But let’s unpack that “warrior” identity. In a society where systemic issues—like racist policing or economic inequality—disproportionately funnel Black men into prisons, could we view your behavior as a rebellion against a system that’s already taken so much from you?

Fleece Johnson: Rebellion? I’m just livin’. In here, it’s about what you can get. Like I said before, “Someone was going to have to give up some b**ty.” That’s how it go. Ain’t no system makin’ me do it—it’s what I want.

Sarah Mitchell: I hear you, but critics might argue the system shapes those desires indirectly. Capitalism prioritizes profit over reform, cramming men into overcrowded cells with unmet needs. Racism amplifies who ends up here. In that light, your actions could be seen as a survival mechanism, not a choice. How do you respond to that?

Fleece Johnson: Survival? Maybe. But I like what I like. B**ty’s king in here.