Kool G Rap, Talib Kweli, Lord Jamar - Oz Theme 2000 lyrics

From the street blocks, to C-blocks
Sleep in a box
Creep with an ox, got beef from the shop
Catch heat from the cops
That sharp blade: you keep in the crotch
Prison guards deep on the watch
Fifth tier is steep on the drop
If your knees knock, they’re peeping it Pop
Though they not speaking a lot
They plot, eavesdrop, greasin’ the cock
Come to shove meat in your chops
Flee the spot, sheets in a knot
Get tied from your feet to the top
Get caught in the hall: make your
Blood skeet with a mop
If you do a shift in the kitchen
Blood'll leak in the pot
It’s just a long game of sheep and the fox
Phone time, beef for your slot
This shit'll make you weep in your cot
Mess halls get messy y'all
Nigga get shanked up in the chest:
He fall, pressed against the wall
Got the best of y'all
Stitched from neck to balls, skin cut
Flesh and all
Stretched out unless you brawl:
Nothing sexy at all the life destiny wall
Hope the Lord bless when he call
Stand like a man or be a Debbie in core
Heavier they come
More heavier for niggas to whore
Could be a predator, or dead in the morgue
Spread em some more

In the prison, industrial complex
You got taxes, politics, jobs, death
Growth stunted, cold-blooded
Dark and heartless
From the pyramids down to the projects

What do it take? Vandal tryin' to escape
I got a homemade shank –
Wrapped the handle with tape
Better move, quick fast
Got a trick for your ass
Niggas in my clique stick dick to your ass
And we don't give a fuck
Trying to make time pass
Here, eat it up, feed a nigga fine glass
Got jailhouse wine in the stash
Every time the caf’ serves swine
Yo I tell ‘em "I pass"
Do like Beecher did to Shillinger
And shit on your ass
You the feature when I'm killing ya:
A hit on your ass
Supreme Allah said "We got time to kill"
So when it's time to kill
We got time to kill
In the yard with the guards
When it’s time to build
And this time is hard, got to use my will
See shit has changed ever
Since they killed Adebisi
You never know – niggas might
Try to grease me

Welcome to the prison, industrial complex
You got taxes, politics, jobs, death
Growth stunted, cold-blooded
Dark and heartless
From the pyramids down to the projects

The image that we project is still God
Time to reflect, but the reflection is hard
Like sticking mirrors out between the bars
Seeing the guards
Seem like everybody innocent
Regardless of the charge
You face death, rape threats
And place bets on who getting laced next
Forever faceless, never waste breathe
Blowing out the candles that the
Wind already snuffed out
They locked up your body –
Your mind could bust out
Police don't sweep to get the dust out
They want your name in the system
My need to mention the death
Penalty is legal lynchin’
People listen: they got teenagers
Up in the line-up
To fill the new facility they built
They need the crime up
Please, the War on Drugs is
Really war on the youth
War on the people, war on the truth
The violent crimes rise
The silence dies as sirens
Cry through the night
People fight for what's left
And not what's right

In the prison, industrial complex
You got taxes, politics, jobs, death
Growth stunted, cold-blooded
Dark and heartless
From the pyramids down to the projects

Word is bond

Darkness for three days straight
Only darkness – think of it
Sittin’ in your house for three days:
No lights, no TVs
Not even the flashlight you
Keep for a blackout