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[Verse 1] Yo, little Khadejah pops is locked, he wanna pop the lock But prison ain't nothin but a private stock And she be dreamin 'bout his date of release She hate the police But loved by her grandma who hugs and kisses her Her father's a political prisoner, free Fred Son of a Panther that the government shot dead Back in 12-4-1969 4 o clock in the mornin, it's terrible but it's fine Cuz Fred Hampton jr., looks just like him Walks just like him, talks just like him And it might be frightenin, the feds and the snitches See him organize the gang, brothers and sisters So he had to be framed yo, you know how the game go 18 years because the 5-0 said so They said he set a fire to a Arab store But he ignited the minds of the young black and poor
HOOK: Behind enemy lines, my niggas is cellmates Most of the youth never escape the jail fate Super maximum camps will advance they game plan To keep us in the hands of the man locked up
(Hello?) Collect call from Ness (Where are you?) Yo shit is crazy boo, I miss you (Have you been alright?) Yo, can you put some money in my commisary?
[Verse 2] Little Kenny been smokin lucy since he was 12 Now he 25 locked up wit a L They call him triple K, cuz he killed 3 niggas Another ghetto child got turned into a killa His pops was a Vietnam veteran on heroin Used like a pawn by these white North Americans Mama couldn't handle the stress so went crazy Grandmama had to raise the baby Just a young boy, born to a life of poverty Hustlin, robbery, whatever brung the paper home Carried the chrome like a blind man hold a cane Tattoos all over his chest so you could know his name But y'all know how the game go Deez kicked in the front door and guess who they came for A young nigga headed for the pen, coulda been, shoulda been Never see the hood again
HOOK 2X
[spanish speaking] cuando yo llamo, como tú no me quieres escuchar No he visto mis hijos, mi mujer, no me mandan retratos, no tengo dinero. Estoy aquí jodío en la cárcel metío!!!
[Outro: repeat 2X] You aint gotta be locked up to be in prison Look how we livin 30,000 niggas a day, up in the bing, standin routine They put is in a box just like our life on the block Behind enemy lines
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