Under Lock & Key

Twisted political procedures, has a way to warp the mind,
it can have you believing the hype, which is hypocritically defined.
It creates inner cranium confusion
By its contradicting oxymoronic pollution.
Do you see a short term goal for the ultimate solution?
Brainwashed by propaganda, democracy pulls your string,
You don't realize you're part of the problem when you organize for votes in their crime ring.

Guilty by association, a wolf in the same pack,
That's what the government refers to as, the criminalized "Rico Act."
Don't be blinded, by the laws & its crooked ways,
set up for the 3rd strike, now you're forever locked in a cage.
But when police, who are meant to protect civilians, use that badge as a license to kill,
The jury acquits 'em, encouraging further blood spill.
Ignorant people praise cops' brutality, till its their door that gets kicked in,
its then they feel the injustice, & the truth of oppression seeps within.
The biggest tyrant, is the government you praise,
you're willing to send your kids to fight their wars, without an argument raised.
For imperialist bastards, you're willing to bend over faster
its like a Black Sabbath record, getting played backwards.
Coerced control, of your mind & your soul,
you no longer think for yourself, like a man that is whole.
Bent to society's will, unable to clearly see your own path,
they've successfully conformed you. Do the simple math.
Mental slaves, as the plot starts to thicken,
like a poisonous injection, the pulse starts to quicken.
A smoked out chamber of toxic gas
executes an innocent man held down by leather straps.

As I envision the oppressor
The one we've come to blame
The one who has united us by numbers
And no longer respects our given names.
Who's willing to stand for our cause?
We're trapped in this thing together
And sho' nuf, united we will fall.
That's why we lift each other up
No matter the nationality or rotten speech
Together we should stand in this struggle
No matter the differences, we're all unique.
Defend what you want to accomplish
yet alone, it should be peace.
Something has got to change my people,
the oppressor has made us weak.

Pull the fucking pistol out of your mouth
and pick up a book
turn off that damn bourgeois television
and take a look
shit's getting hectic, brother, sure
But a bullet in the brain, amigo, isn't the cure
It's too late for you, man, but what about your son
What about his generation who's been taught to run
to stomp and tantrum and tattle-tale
suck the plastic flea market and dodge bourgeois "hell"
imperialist sons medicated for depression
A hybrid oppressor slash enemy nation
I'll sell you this for a gallon of that
Then starve the world and die of heart attack fat
It isn't the way it was meant
All these senseless suicides ain't some static event
the reasons exists - the "whys" right here
Your casket costs thousands - payment plan three years
sucking the fucking juice out of life - capitalism
then profiting off of your death - straight sadism
Rent the church to grieve you in
Buy the hole they bury you in
Pay the petty priest to say some words
Then scribble on some gray marble how much it hurts
Picking the pocket of the family that weeps
Dying's expensive while living is cheap
Business in death and death in business
What's the price, father, the price to miss us

I sit doing ten years for a gram of dope
Witnessing Johannes Mehserle get probation for murder
I sit watching men starve to death
Witnessing guards who can't even alight a flight of stairs
Because they're too fucking fat
I sit in a country that told me to stay in school
and educate yourself
In a cell where they won't give me a book
I was told in my youth to just say no
to drugs
And now that I refuse their psychotropics
they refuse me parole
They told me to love thy neighbor
like you love yourself
and now I watch my country men shoot Mexicans
swimming the border
I sit in the land of the free
rattling my chains
waiting
I see the hypocrisy and the bitter twisted lies
Do you?
I sit alone
7.4 million strong
knowing nothing more than to carry on
nothing more than my country's wrong
knowing nothing - nothing's at all wrong
Do you?

This game is thick, politics and pale faces
and these dark skin negros, itchin to change places
wantin' to reign supreme, niggas catchin cases
where brothers turn fiend, cause they can't face this
the game ain't told - it's sold for brother souls
my people live in poverty - Mr. Charlie sat on swoll
they wonder why the thugs cry and their hearts turn cold
they got us twisted and deny our votes at the white man's poll
they brought us on boats to add labor to this nation
infest our hoods with dope - now servin's the occupation
blind us to life by material infatuation
enslaved to this living, screaming emancipation proclamation
I scream "set me free from this land" through my third eye and see
monkey Tom singing "my country tis of thee"
we steady searching for the land of liberty
the sweet land of jewels that was promised to me
It was a hoax the 40 acres and the mule
with the flow my people gettin played as fools
time to wisen up, get a grip and use our tools
I know you tired of poverty, being mistreated and abused
we got the knowledge - slave labor built the land
they keep us out of college, so ignorance is their plan
clearly I see mental freedom wasn't meant for the black man
trapped in society with statues and laws only they can overstand
dark skin is a sin in this white man's world
my brothers drown their emotions by getting drunk til they hurt
who cares about the early morning fiend twitchin for a fix
the united snakes of american politics

When we come to the point of the threshold of enlightenment, we pause for the embarking, take a deep breath of redefining air, close our eyes, place one foot across the threshold, and keep progressing forward.

As we cross over to reform, our minds race with stimulating thoughts of resurrection. Our third eye blinks once, twice, thrice — opens. Through this new halo of light we can see the struggles of humanity.

Our hearts diastole — conjuring of courage. We sought then solidarity — collective force of "the people."

All the teachings of the past great revolutionaries preceding us serve as instructions. Their words became our voice, so we spoke the language of "the people."

We clench our fist, and give salutation. DETERMINATION! CONSOLIDATION! REVOLUTION! LIBERATION!

Why are you deeply sorry for hurting/disappointing
In a country built on genocide/institutionalizing
In any way - your mother, sister or grandmother
Hurt in degrees - hurt like no other
The pain is here - present - in my chest
But I've learned it from you - who knows it best
Hypocrisy and hate and national oppression
Imperialism and capitalism and poor peoples' depression
We can't see past all the senseless suicides
Friends' corpses beside us - swinging above us
inside us
Suicide wholesale - please forgive us
Sensory deprivations or bought off TV stations
What's worse - alone talking to yourself
or commercials repeatedly preaching consumer masturbation?
Two for one on a half off sale
I for one prefer sensory deprivation hell
My pen, my thoughts - memories get me through
I am the one feeling sorry for you
Bitter cynicism on a Bob Barker mattress
Verses ignorant masses on PC Macintoshes
It's not hate I feel for you - but awe
Goose stepping, concentration kamping, new generation
What's that - what's this - we never saw
Boxcars, traincars - jehovah witness triangles
Vans, buses - poor man and non-white shackles
Business as usual - neo-fascist neo-nazi
A "criminal" boogeyman preaching - how dare he

Hatred, power, envy and greed -
with not a thought of your fellow man
is the moral quota they try to breed.

Material existence at the cost of whole nations
and despite the desolation they cause overseas
they still find the need to oppress
and bring the war back to you and me.

With their foot on our necks what is the lumpen
to do but rise up and revolt against the tyranny
these capitalist pigs so mercilessly
rain down upon me and you.

Threatening us with terroristic tactics they try to discourage
us from educating ourselves and our fellow oppressed
they label us a threat and lock us away
just for what we read
labeling you a threat to the government for trying to liberate
and set our people free.

But they are the real terrorists, exploiting
weaker nations and killing over oil
their world revolves around chaos, and their evil
empires are built on blood-soaked soil.

The mentality of tyranny
is a war of psychology via technology,
technically diversified
con-fused like a tie-dye'd
brain is stained with illusion and lies
dispel, rebel, and defy the pail;
head like a bucket, it's time to chuck it
life on the line - F...K it!

You have an obligation
time to stop duckin', time to start buckin'
Revolution is bubblin'

Peroxide da line Oxygenate ya mind
We have been deprived all of our lives
given enough scraps to barely survive
I'm feelin a vibe of Free ya mind
its in vogue don't be so shallow
and the rest will follow
led by the dialectical materialist kind

Now lets begin - power up
equip to it and stick
like Bruce Lee Roy's chop sockie flick
a sho' nuff revolutionary kick
Word, it's a U-N-I-T-Y hit!

Who did what
who called the shot
I just don't know
all I know is that it shouldn't have been so
Malcolm should have lived until he was a
thousand years old
or even more
some say it was the COINTELPRO
of that I'm sure
but what made negroes
gun down our hero
and turn around and practice non-violence
towards a savage who threatens our very existence
while Malcolm was plotting a resistance
against the nemesis
these imbeciles was plotting against
the shining prince
they're worse than Judas
because Judas had a conscience
so he hung himself after his treacherous action
but after the treason
these Judases are still breathing
why don't they just die
and make us rejoice with joy
non-believers disguised in Black skin
sabotaging the struggle that they don't believe in
so they use their skin to deceive men

niggas killed Malcolm X
and niggas will probably kill me too

You got to be naive to believe
you can determine friend from foe
just based on skin color alone
and not by the content of the character
I see the niggas
but where my brothers at
Bob Marley said that they sold Marcus Garvey
for rice
Then they ambushed Bob Marley in the night
They say the eyes never lie
but experience tells me that they don't
always tell the truth

niggas killed Malcolm X
and niggas will probably kill me too

Huey Newton was still an asset
yet slugs put him in his casket
while agent provocateurs
that deserve death
remain in our midst
misfits in positions of leadership
navigating the lives of the less fortunate
the blind leading the blind
now we can't find our way out
of this maze
that got us trapped
and strapped with gats
that we only aim at Blacks

niggas killed Malcolm X
and niggas will probably kill me too

I'm analyzing this self hatred
wondering why this Black life of mine
ain't considered sacred
in a blink of an eye
a nigga would lay me dead on the pavement
but if my pigment was white
a nigga would think twice fifty times
before he contemplates homicide
I've stared into the eyes of these boys
who claim to be real men
and I've seen the fear that paralyzes
that make them throw away their weapon
when the cops hit the intersection
we're conditioned for submission
so the prisons are full of Blacks
who hate Blacks
and back stab each other
because they're petrified of the real nemesis
life sentences and these fools
are complacent with just being
jail house celebrities
all is vanity
buy up the commissary
and live good in the penitentiary
while we're becoming
liabilities to our families
where's the sanity?

niggas killed Malcolm X
and niggas will probably kill me too