Raps made in jail...
hypnotikhypnothiphophip h
Story behind the song
I got locked up for something I didn't do. I was with 2 cats from work that I just met, we go to cop some treez and the kid I'm with gets his chain snatched from his neck. We chase the dealer, he gets away. The kid ends up tryin' to take justice in his own hands and beat down some random kid on the street for his wallet. The other kid's kickin' him too, but I ain't touch him. I took it to trial cuz I knew I did nothing wrong, and I got 2 years, 1 to serve. Served 7 months, got out on parole, and I'm still on probation til June '04.
The reason why I got locked up is in the first verse. (The second, third, and fourth verses were written in jail). Second: Just a rhyme about food and tryin' to keep my head up. Third: A rhyme about the Belly of the Beast; it's a jungle in there. Fourth: Tryin' to make sense of the whole thing and get a decent perspective of the experience of that 7 months.
Lyrics
V1:
Now rebellion could be justified with a crime, I'm a felon, the victim testified and he lied, I'm not tellin' how it hurts inside doin' time, now I'm yellin', try explainin' mine in a rhyme, analyze the mornin' that the story took place, wit some guys I worked wit in Boston Valet, we inside, drinkin', it's gettin' kinda late, we decide to go out and buy a little taste of the blazin' herb, and that 's when it all occurred, the situation of when the drug dealer had the nerve, of takin' the jewelry off my co-worker, then we chased him, he ran in the car then he swerved to the curb, we stopped cuz we ran outta breath, then I turned to see this dude was mad upset, then I learned the dealer ripped the chain off his neck, I said "Word?" discussed it for a second then we left, I expected us to walk back to my home, I stand corrected; that's when we saw this dude walkin' alone, we intersected, my so-called friend hit his dome, he attempted to try to take justice on his own, and he stole the wallet off this dude on the street, throwin' blows, the other one's kickin' wit his feet, and I froze, watchin' this dude gettin' beat for his doe, we ran quick, crossin' the street, as he peeks in the wallet, "There's only two bucks!" he repeats, I'm thinkin' this shit is fucked up, then we meet 'guess who', it's just my luck: the police, and now I stand here in hand cuffs, Fuck!
V2:
Suit up for chow yo I think it's chicken salad, it crunches when you bite it, makes me gag when it touches my palate, just another one of those things to hate about prison, but sometimes you gotta settle for the place that you live in, I'm bitin' and crunchin' pullin' out bones when I chew, thinkin' about home, real food'll be somethin' new, as for now, it's just the same old song every minute, never have enough time to eat, they say, "Finish it up!" the C.O. lets too many out, there's not enough chairs, I say "I'm not done." he says, "Who the fuck cares?" This man across from me says, "This place is a barn." as he takes a bite of chicken, wipes his face with his arm, proceed back to my cell, tappin' trays in the trash, go back to the room: three inmates in a bathroom, look at the picture on the wall with the bars, it's natural art, filled with people and cars, and buildings; all different sizes and mass, but there's nothin' that is on the other side of the glass, and time will go fast, as long as I decide to relax, work out, stay busy, keep my eyes on my raps, I try to be happy, some people cry and some laugh, it's hard knowin' half of all these guys'll be back, but I won't do that... yeah, whatever.
V3:
The lions gather and chatter clutters the air, the mice scatter and only matter to others who fear the beast of the belly who feast on the cellie who tries to run, but his feet turn to jelly, he's beat, he can tell that he's done, when you step through the jungle, better watch for the rats, who plot for the cats behind their backs, talk alotta the crap, you do somethin' small on ya own, make a call on the phone, cuz of the rat, your actions' already known, and now the lion's out the cage, he likes to lie in the den, wit five of his friends, who'd kill him 'fore he tried to kill them, he's describin' what it takes to survive in the pen, the lion's den's full of lions and he's lyin' again, you got the birds that wouldn't be caught dead in the crowds, avoid the jungle altogether with their head in the clouds, n' flyin' away, they seem to never flock with their age, and they can find more freedom when they're locked in a cage, n' coachin' the rest, to deal with the emotion the best, hopin' that there's no one else approachin' the nest, upset on these things, tied down with seventy strings, taunted by a window of people spreadin' their wings, so he learns from the struggle as he turns to the jungle, the ferns crumble under the bengal who squirms for trouble, while the lion thinks he's dominant and thinks he's the king, yeah, the watchdog sits there and laugh