Under Lock & Key

From me to you
Look man, y’all crackers need to lay low
‘Cause y’all are fucking with a kid who got knowledge coming
Through pipes like drano
MIM organizing revolution, ’cause that’s what we’re here for
I know y’all didn’t expect to see us blow like c-4
Uplifting the Black folk always been my m.o.
So I don’t ever want to see this movement end
That’s why I move from the middle
Pen in my hand pointed straight for the paper
The white man is the devil, so it’s only right that I target ’im
Yea I’m revolutionary minded, but my body built like a gorilla
So it’s hard to maintain especially when the system against you
Man don’t nobody really understand what we been through
Or how it feel to be locked up in a world where the odds are not with you
A white man kill a black man then everything smooth an’ cool
But let a Black man kill a white man then his blood becomes a pool
Plus these sick muthafuckas might show it on the nine o’clock news
Oscar Grant was murdered in cold blood an’ what did the Amerikkkan justice do?
Beside lettin’ that soft ass officer loose
And they wonder why the new generation move around in a group
An’ never hesitate to shoot
Black tee, black pants an’ some all black boots
We bring Black power to the people just like Huey P. Newton
An’ the Panthers would do
Even Martin Luther King had a dream for me an’ you
He said that only brotherhood an’ unconditional love
Would get us through
A lot of brothers say they are hungry for knowledge,
Then here is your food
They label us a menace because we show an’ prove
The Black kids learn more from the streets then they do the school
The white man call us nigga because we don’t follow his rules
So they lock us up in cages just like the pets in the zoo
So it’s only right that we better ourselves
And learn to stand on our own two
Because in order to build an organization
You have to know who is really you
My brother

Black-on-Black crime,
I see it all the time,
Why come brothers hurting each other,
instead of loving one another?;
_______Every Black person ain’t Black,
_______Black is where the heart is at.
Black-on-Black violence,
I see it steadily destroying us,
Why come Black people keep killing each other,
instead of helping and protecting one another?;
_______Every Black person ain’t Black,
_______Black is where the heart is at.
Black people betraying themselves and each other,
Always disrespecting, lying, stealing and cheating one another,
Why come brothers can’t work it out?
Psychological warfare, mind control and genocide is what
I’m really talking about;
_______Every Black person ain’t Black,
_______Black is where the heart is at.
Brothers not wanting peace and reconciliation,
Only helping the enemy (racism, capitalism, and imperialism) to oppress the Black Nation;
Black love, Black reconciliation and Black redemption is what we work for and need,
Brothers and sisters join in and defeat our enemies.
_______Every Black person ain’t Black,
_______Black is where the heart is at.
Black people wake up to what’s really going on,
don’t be deceived by the integrationist song;
In a white capitalist democracy,
A Black minority will never be accepted or treated equal by a white majority.
_______Every Black person ain’t Black,
_______Black is where the heart is at.
Black unity, Black pride and Black power is what our ancestors loudly proclaimed,
Let us uphold this legacy and proclaim today the same darn thing;
This is what we owe our ancestors, future generations, ourselves and each other.
True commitment to the Black liberation struggle will allow us to do nothing other;
_______Every Black person ain’t Black,
_______Black is where the heart is at.
Divided we fall, together we stand,
Black power and Black nationalism is our true call and demand;
And keep world liberation as our primary goal.
Let those present convey the message to those who are absent,
_______Every Black person ain’t Black,
_______Black is where the heart is at.

Black people, rise and unite!

Class hatred’s what i’m spewing,
because class hatred’s what they’re doing
“The beginning of all wisdom,”
that’s what Lenin said
The beginning of the end,
that’s what i say.

Take a look around and realize your role
Take a look around and put the shit on hold
Become the vehicle of expression
and make your weight felt
Too much practical knowledge to practically ignore.

Fuck a cop in killa Cali!
Is that all you saying?
Fuck that!
Our histories got much more weight than that!

Power to the People!
And all that good shit
Fair distribution & fuck the land sent!
From each according to his abilities,
to each according to his needs
For a world without oppression,
this is what we should strive for,
this is what we need
This is what we should fight for,
not against each other.

Putting it down on the underground,
above ground
United in a Movement,
a United Front.

Black & Brown, and white too,
if you’re progressive,
for that matter, Black & Brown
if you’re progressive.

Because we can never go nowhere
if we don’t get together
United in a front;
hence progressive.

Hunger of the mind, to educate myself politically;
these pigs can bend me backwards,
but they will never break me.

With the spirit of George Jackson, and the ideas of Mao Tse-Tung;
the heart of Che Guevara,
the revolution’s about to start soon

Don’t think you a gangsta, cuz you killing your brother;
call the next lady a bitch,
but you don’t think of your mother.

You hanging in the streets, gangbanging and busting;
you killing for colors,
that shit is for nothing

You better start waking up, and think outside of the bubble;
join forces with each other,
and throw down with the struggle

There’s this confusing aspect I’ve never quite been able to understand about christian morality. You see, I’ve sat alone for three years in the solitary superman control unit sensory deprivation dungeon. Where every emotion is sharpened a hundred fold but every avenue to share or express this feeling is cruelly taken away. Except mail. And my pen.

So it irks me to receive these fancy gilded colorful christmas cards from total strangers where they tell me they love me but damn me to the depths of hell in the same breath. Because I’m a sinner my soul is in limbo and its time for me to repent and prostrate myself to the all might glorious one, or burn!

But I love you. Brother. Take care.

Is this what a motherfucker needs? Maybe if you all got together out there and started chanting and holding hands these walls that hold amerikka’s 2.4 million political prisoners would crumble and we could join you with a psalm.

Well?

We’re waiting…

Of course, maybe because we are top notch “sinners” in your books the last thing you want is for us to be released. Does that thought frighten you! Is it a whole hell of a lot easier to pray for someone’s soul than it is to minister to their torturous mindfucked life? Because, in reality, christians and “criminals” are both mindwashed masses. I’d be surprised if one could exist without the other. The former needs the latter to lord over and condemn. And preach to from afar. (The further the better - no?) and what would a “criminal” do without the piles upon piles of guilt, shame, sense of inferiority and hurt his brother christian bestows? In shiny christmas cards.

The time has come to turn the tables.

Your religion and those U$ concentration kamps; your steeples and the judges pulpit; the church and the courthouse are one and the same. Tools of oppression. Both are filled with bigotry, racism and egotism. The priest and the judge. The gangster, the killer and the dope dealer. Who are the real sinners here? Who’s the bad guy? The true gang?

I heard once that to interact with the true insanity in a person one has to be aware of the fact that craziness likes to jump ship. Meaning a crazy person has the ability to make you feel like you’re the one that’s nuts. And I’d say the same applies to unjust systems in power. They have a way of mindwashing you into a nazi or a ‘mexican-border-fascist-crazed-minuteman.’

So father-elder-sister-brother our struggle is a fight to survive. Day to day. Minute to minute as human beings. Your creed and country are killing us as you pass around the collection plate and mail form letters to us to ease your consciences. Our struggle attempts to raise our fellow captives self-esteem and heal; not guilt-trip and destroy as your church does, the living, right here and now, interest us. Not some idealist bourgeois bullshit afterlife.

It is your imperialist system that must lay down and prostrate and ask for mercy. And not from the almighty or some winged man. But from your fellow man you’ll kneel in supplication.

And I”m going to go there. I must.

Why are we the ones hated? The prisoners. We who sit and study and starve to death. And why are they the ones supported? The soldiers. The ones who drop bombs on innocent people for a paycheck. Maybe because all we do is keep beds full and a handful of you employed we’re inferior? At least compared to those that keep your gas tanks full and new amerikkan colonies occupied we are. no?

But I digress.

Brother christian, I’ll wish you a merry christmas also. And I send my love. But please note I’m not parting with some “beefed up scare tactic ultimatum” that might leave you in tears tonight fingering your pistol. I understand that your kind, who keep medical science in a moral chokehold and evolution out of the elementary schools, are escapists and weak. I know a person who’s a citizen of earth’s most ‘murderous-racist-atomic-imperialist-hypocritical’ nation feels a need to bury the old head in the sand. I feel you. I used to hide beneath the needle myself.

I just ask you keep your demons to yourself. Please. Never once did I try to push my dope on you. So give me the same respect.

And as you stand bent over with your head in a stale hole. Know the rest of us have woken up and changed the CD. That bass beat you hear as you lose consciousness isn’t the stars and stripes.

We’re rocking the anthem of international socialism round these parts. The international!
Let no one build walls to divide us,
walls of hatred nor walls of stone.
come greet the dawn and stand beside us,
we’ll live together or we’ll die alone.
in our world poisoned by exploitation,
those who have taken, now they must give!
And end the vanity of nations…
we want no condescending saviors
to rule us from their judgment hall…

And comrade christian…comrade!
nighty night.

With whom shall we unite?
As Maoists,
and as materialists,
one focus in this imperialist country should be on the economic interest of its various segments in order to determine with whom we should or shouldn’t fight.
Tactically speaking,
An enemy of my chief enemy is as fate would have it a friend to me.
Sometimes permanently,
many times temporarily,
it depends on their particular ideological and political stance you see.
The grave consequence of revisionism in the heart of imperialism is a subtle yet vicious schism between imperialist country so-called communist workers and the revolutionary practice of proletarian internationalism. Such division born of revisionism threatens the success of one revolutionary socialist mission. It puts us in a dire position which psycho-socially translates into an unhealthy state of nihilism and terminates any possibility of an anti-imperialist united front. It puts one’s enemy forces in a position to win but to begin with as dialectics teaches, it is the internal contradictions within our own camp that is the determining factor in making our foes into the triumphant champs.
So these contradictions must be speedily resolved.
They must be solved and we must consciously involve ourselves in their resolution beyond the limited subjective confines of our egotistic idealistic minds.
In short order,
we must refine our scientific use of the materialist method of analysis if we are to successfully persist in the massive work of building an expanded revolutionary united front.

A lot of people are always talking about what’s going on and what needs to be done but who’s trying to change anything? More action and less talking! You can’t just stand around and watch or talk about things no more cause they (prison officials and government) only respect “action.”

If you want to change the conditions in which you are confined, or how the government is running things “act on it.” A closed mouth don’t get fed. Real talk!

Start a group and write every week to publicize what is happening. We can’t just talk anymore. Did Dr. King, Nelson Mandela, Malcolm X, etc just sit back and talk? No! If you believe in something you’ve got to fight for it, like those before us did, nothing comes easy.

Each day I wake up don’t shit change
Everything’s still the same oppression & injustice
We all see it, talk about it, read about it
But who’s gon’ be the one 2
stand up fight & die about it
change by any means necessary
Maoist put the fire in me
Communism burn deep within me
& change & anti-imperialism is our goal
so stand up, fight, till the soul

My heart cries the tears of blood
As it feels for my ancestors’ pain and anguish
Our culture and territory was compromised
By plague-infested, greed-inspired pigs
Oppressed by racism and a foreign religion
Our ancestors watched as our culture was burned
But the culture could never be burned from our blood
So while my heart cries tears of blood
It beats pride and honor inherited from my ancestors

I find it necessary to breath,
or collapse, as my strength fades away.
I find it necessary to read,
or collapse, as my intelligence fades away.
By hiding the books the master controls the ignorant men,
How can we be “equal” or “greater”? If we don’t even
know what those words mean
Who makes the money?
Those who know how to count.
Who makes the music?
Those who know how to play.
A map is worthless, unless you know the way…

This is my application of resignation.

work is pointless. Hours long, and bad. I sleep like I do
some dirty agenda. And, And after, I tried hard as I could.
Characteristics all shot to Hells. The blood tracked in on my
boots inside this apartment, on my Algerian rug. The after-
work showers I take every night is stung is coated with the
blood-red asphalt. I have to hack away the dried blood-red
crayon plaster out of my fingers nails, toilet.

I would like very much wholeheartedly to be kicked out of the White Race.
A promotion rather, to unbear a historic bloody burden,
I could; after, be in my own mind then.