Little Rodney
Sura fatiha; (Islamic prayer)
Bismillahir Rahmanir Rahim (In the name of Allah, the Most Beneficent, the Most Merciful)
'Al-Hamdu lillahi Rabbil-'Aalamin (Praise be to Allah, Lord of the Worlds)
'Ar-Rahmaanir-Rahiim (The Beneficent, the Merciful)
Maaliki Yawmid-Diin (Owner of the Day of Judgement)
'Iyyaaka na'-budu wa 'iyyaaka nasta-'iin (Thee (alone) we worship; Thee (alone) we ask for help)
'Ihdinas-Siraatal-Mustaqiim- (Show us the straight path)
Siraatal-laziina 'an-'amta 'alay him- (The path of those whom Thou hast favoured)
Gayril-magzuubi 'alay him wa laz-zaaalliin (Not (the path) of those who earn Thine anger nor of those who go astray)
Ayo limb vak twisted broken mutilated carcass
Living in a harness
Guards all watch us from towers with batons firearms in they're holsters
Shoot-to-kill marksmen,keep crosshairs on us
Food make you nausious
Yall got your floors but they sleep us in shit just to keep us exhausted
Mixed in with monsters
Divided and conquered
Where the hard-hearted lawless are highly regarded
Chance to touch knowledge
Transform the torture
These bars are between you and your roots and your culture
Eat, sleep, shit, sweat hardship
A godless society's garbage
Twisted mission accomplished
Bars and our sorrows are all that we armed with
Heart disconnected punching walls with a raw fist, partin
Between the villian hell and the coffin
Do the death rattle in the metal maze you lost in
Boxed in and dropped in a hole and forgetten
Frozen till the core of your soul feel rotten
Name is now numbers
Just know your fellow convict love you Brother Ali
Peace
Little Rodney
Hook:
Say if yall tryna talk bout the horrors you seen
Tell your stories through me and feel free
If yall tryna talk bout the horroes you seen
Tell your stories through me
Trapped and locked in the belly of the beast
Just like Malcom, Martin
Solomon, and Jesus the last great prophet
May never get released
Over a penny any beef
Cats will stab you in your sleep
Plus they have to keep look out for their captin when they creep
They're masters of deption and they tragic with they deeds
Its madness that you speak of innocence and guilt
In a prison that was built just to generate some wealth
Facilities, they building industries withing themselves,they out earn two thirds of anything they sell
The gavel and the 13th amendment give them hell
When they filling the demand of men and women in themselves
System stay in business cause the children that they fail
Gettin ill when they drillin out a living for themselves
Hopeless they send them in as their feeling prevails
They stealing killing slinging steady feeling up them jails
Ha ha