Behind Enemy Lines - Dead Prez

That’s it—five more minutes and that’s it

Back to work fellas, back to work!

Yo, lil' Kadeija pops his locks, 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

Four o’clock in the mornin, it’s terrible but it’s fine ‘cause

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

To see him organize the gang brothers and sisters

So he had to be framed, yo, you know how the game go

Eighteen years because the five-o said so

They said he set a fire to a a-rab store

But he ignited the minds of the young black and poor

Behind enemy lines, my niggas is cellmates

Most of the youths never escape the jail fates

Super maximum camps will advance they game plan

To keep us in the hands of the man, locked up

(Hello?) Collect call from Nes

(How are you?) You know, shit is crazy Boo

(Have you been alright?) You know I miss you

(I feel lonely, lonely, lonely) Yo woman… Can you put some money in my

commissary?

Lord can’t even smoke a loosey since he was twelve

Now he’s 25 locked up with a L

They call him triple K cause he killed three niggas

Another ghetto child got turned into a killer

His pops was a Vietnam veteran on heroin

Used like a pawn by these white North Americans

Momma couldn’t handle the stress and went crazy

Grandmamma 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

Tattoes all over his chest, so you can know his name

But y’all know how the game go

D’s kicked in the front door and guess who they came fo'?

A young nigga headed for the pen, coulda been, shoulda been

Never see the hood again

Behind enemy lines, my niggas is cellmates

Most of the youths never escape the jail fates

Super maximum camps will advance they game plan

To keep us in the hands of the man, locked up

You ain’t gotta be locked up to be in prison

Look how we livin', thirty thousand niggas a day

Up in the bing, standard routine

They put us in a box just like our life on the blocks

(Behind enemy lines)

You ain’t gotta be locked up to be in prison

Look how we livin, thirty thousand niggas a day

Up in the bing, standard routine

They put us in a box just like our life on the blocks

(behind enemy lines)