Jail Raps
the Hypnotist
the Hypnotist: Hypnotherapy EP, 2004
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 laughs at everything
V4:
It's easy to hate the system when they plug you in it
you feel stupid locked up in the drug unit
it's bug, soon it gets to you quick like chuggin' fluids
then you piss your time away, but if you don't do it:
You don't earn that month-and-a-half off six months
used to laugh off six blunts, now they laugh at my expense
and I'm trapped behind the fence where the population is dense
all because a jury didn't see my innocence
and counsel approached the bench, and failed on my defense
and talked about events that happened in past tense
the victim spoke nonsense about the violence and hence
I'm the one that suffers the consequence
it stinks when you used to be a juvenile delinquent
they say "Choose your friends carefully, watch who you link wit."
but I got blinded like an eyepatch on a cyclops
I didn't see the future when I went out to buy pot
a bad hand; it seems that we were beat by the dealer
a bad plan; earlier we were drinkin' tequila
it leads to problems, they couldn't handle they own
he said, "Run ya wallet!" and started smashin' his dome
five minutes later we got caught by the police
and now I'm stuck in Suffolk County cuz of my co-d
it's lonely, especially in a place nobody knows me
tortured by the "coulda, woulda, shouldas", and "if-onlys"
so now I'm in the drug-block, hollerin' out, "Why me?!"
because I drank tequila and went outside to buy weed
I guess God knows what's best for me; what I need
maybe this is my destiny to learn somethin' before I leave...
© Hypnotik 2005