My Name be Jim Crow lyrics by Mark B. Springer and Fury Young Howdy folks! My name be Jim Crow! and I’m fiena’ take y’all on a history lesson! Hear me crow this jingo jango! I’m not a man or woman I’se a wall-a-be cracker! I come from ol’ Brit’iny I’se a European’s Jimmy! Firs I kill de Indy’s An den I slave de blackies Dey call me ol’ Jim Crow Because I base upon blacky! I row-a’-row for whitey Upon de stage so fun’ly N’ when ol’ Jim get off de stage Dey laugh so-oh outloudly! Now some dey call me Jimmy Some call me o’ racis’ Da smart ones call me smarty Because I right, de blacks are naughty! My name be ol’ Jim Crow And dis’ be yo’ history lesson!

Tired & Weary lyrics by Anthony "Big Ant" McKinney Dead man walkin’ in those penitentiary shoes I ain’t kill no damn body They put me on the news Charge me for a body I damn near cried the blues Gave me 28 to life I got everything to lose He lost his soul I lost my life I ain’t do it They said that ain’t right Lock him up Put him in a cell 28 to life Penitentiary is hell bound I’m in a cell now What I’ma do now Chillin’ at the spot with my girl Heard ‘bout 7 shots in my hood All you hear is shouts Mickey ran up out the house He said “Somebody shot!” I just can’t believe I just can’t believe They said that it was me They said that it was me The police can’t ID Their witness from the scene No positive ID Boy you better pray Boy you better pray When there ain’t no way out Boy you better stay out Cuz I really wanna break out Girl you better pray Girl you better pray When there ain’t no way out Girl you better stay out Cuz I really wanna All white all white all white No jury of my peers Lookin’ at me like a deer in headlights And I can’t fight 18 against one 12 jurors 1 judge 1 prosecutor 1 defense counsel 2 state witness Victim’s family all on the same team Shackled down from head to toe Chain gang? Hell no! Locomotive Train track No grease It’s a railroad And I know Standing in the courtroom ain’t got no friends Feel like I been Sippin’ on Hen Drunk and I bent When the jury verdict came in like No matter what the state say No matter how them robes rule I do what I gotta do They say they’re right I’m wrong Then they’re through with you, oh yeah They misinterpret all the rules So what am I supposed to do? FIGHT They’ll hold you down til you’re through WORK There’s so many things you can do FAITH Make you believe there’s not nothing left You got life there’s no second chance LIFE They say they’re right, I’m wrong Then they’re through with you They misinterpret all the rules So what am I supposed to do?

First Impressions lyrics by Charles "C-Will" Williams and BL Shirelle I gotta be honest, this my confession I ain’t know what was gon’ happen when I got arrested Thought I was gonna be mistreated cuz my skin complexion I gotta get up outta here, that was my first impression My first impression, my first impression Gotta join a gang so I can gain protection Or get accepted Man you get the message Drop on my knees like “lord, I learned my lesson” Shackled and chained I get off the bus Fist in a ball, a wrist full a’ cuffs So tight they leave a cut cross my vein Subliminal message - telling me to just slit it up They telling me to strip off my clothes - cough while I squat Girl next to me menstruals on - out drops a clot They telling me to wiggle my toes - all while they watch The word degrading Can’t define this situation As I walk to my unit, loathing and shameful Holes in my state shoes Snow to my ankles They call it DCC where they do the testing They poking and prodding asking all of these questions like How many times you been arrested? Are you a lesbian? How many times you been molested? It’s wretched I wonder is this a curse or a blessing This hurts I’m stressing That’s my first impression Bitterness live here, it stay up on me Can’t shake it off like a sweater with lint on it Just seen a pissy shower wanted to turn around Imagining an alleyway when I look at the ground Help - I need somebody and Not just anybody and This food - why it got no seasoning? And this water look like Hennessey in it Man it’s light brown, it’s crazy on the compound Outta ten people, just one smile Probably ain’t one smile, so they wilin’ out No money on the phone, can’t call mama house Look - I’m intimidated, frustrated Wanna do right but I don’t feel obligated My cellie just got his food took, confiscated He don’t know what to do, he layin’ in his bed shaking Tryna keep my patience in this situation Don’t wanna get stabbed, left open like a conversation Gotta keep my patience in this situation Don’t wanna get stabbed, left open like a conversation I got to be honest, this is my confession Un-ID’ed specimen in corners of the edifice Lifers pessimists they never gonna exodus Racism prevalent My first impression, my first impression C.O.s don’t give a fuck like they celibate Gotta get a girlfriend to mess with Bitches starin’ hard lord god don’t let me get aggressive My first impression

A215-162 lyrics by Mark B. Springer and Sedrick Franklin A410-907 That’s the number they gave me When I walked through the prison door They tell me I’m a ward of the state They tell me I’m a ward of the state I don’t wanna be a ward of the state no more I wanna go home. You’re a ward of the state You’re a ward of the state You’re a ward of the state You’re a ward of the state A215-162. This is your number. Remember it. This is how I’ll identify you. This is not up for debate. Strip. You will wear what I tell you. Spread your legs. Squat. Cough. Get dressed. I’m responsible for your life. You will eat, drink, and lockdown when I say so. Do you understand me? Yes sir. Now what is your number, convict? A215-162.

Plastic Bag lyrics by Carl Dukes You know, this is a drag. Dragging around this heavy plastic bag... With every damn thing I own... P.O. promised me A three quarter house This brace on my neck Now they tellin’ me I’m denied denied Back in this city Which way What street Train stop Bus stop I might be lost Off to Bedford and Atlantic To stand in line for four hours Just to get to the window And it went something like this “What bed you in?” “I’m here to get a bed” “Where you from Bellevue shelter?” “No I’m here to get a bed” “You gotta go to Bellevue” Denied again. Denied denied. Exhausted Beat Hungry But not broken. Finally get to Bellevue Fucking homeless shelter Now the man is tellin’ me “You can stay for the night You gotta leave by morning You got another shelter to go” So they sent me off to Wards Island Exhausted Beat Hungry But not broken. This Wards Island’s a breeding ground To return to the street And back down that rabbit hole To the penitentiary The penitentiary P.O. promised me A three quarter house Now this Ward’s Island’s sayin’ “You’re not in the system.” So they tellin’ me I’m denied Denied again. Back in this city Which way What street Train stop Bus stop I might be lost But I’m homeless Yes I’m homeless I’m homeless... Train stop Bus stop I’m lost What stop They could throw me away They could throw me away Like a plastic bag They could throw me away Like a plastic bag P.O. promised me a three quarter house Now they’re telliing me denied. They could just throw me away. Like a plastic bag. Denied. Denied. Denied. Denied...

Headed to the Streets lyrics by BL Shirelle I wake up sweatin’ sweatin’ I be sweatin’ in my sheets Everytime I go to sleep I be headed to the streets I be diggin’ findin’ searchin’ for whoever got it cheap I be rippin’ robbin’ murkin’ tryna settle all my beef I had a dream like Martin Luther It was killed by Freddie Krueger Gotta live to find my purpose Not accepting this defeat I wake up sweating in my sheets Everytime I go to sleep I be headed to the streets Another day another hope for a dolla’ I hit the pavement Been filling out 20 applications A day since I got out I see my old niggas and they shout out They like “What you need? I got you” They pull they knots out We start reminiscing The good times get my attention Gotta admit this shit is hard I’m getting tempted LIke fuck these hungry nights Fuck these fried bologna nights This shit is a lonely life Lonely night Lonely night Without a call back I’ll make a little wealth If I gotta chop a tree down make the paper myself As I chop a key down I’m truly truly hating myself Then out of a nightmare I awaken myself Give me my dreams or give me ya fiends I’m haunted by the penitentiary screams VICTIMIZED Shiesty bitches with schemes INSTITUTIONALIZED I carry razors in the slits of my jeans Hidden in seams Tell me what this liberty means Now that I’m out can I live and be free? Can I work for a company that pays more than minimally? Will I give up before I get to see what’s in it for me? This ain’t about material It’s about looking in the mirror seein’ inferior Society don’t trust you – they couldn’t get any learier I’m tired from my struggle – I couldn’t get any wearier I’m happy, I’m sad, anxious, angry, plain hysteria Mixed with terror New territory – always scarier I killed my old habits Drug ‘em to a wooded area But couldn’t seem to bury ‘em Bag of bones I carry ‘em Sick as fuck I cherish ‘em I wake up wake up wake up I wake up I be sweatin’ in my sheets Everytime I go to sleep I be headed to the streets I be diggin’ findin’ searchin’ for whoever got it cheap I be rippin’ robbin’ murkin’ tryna settle all my beef I had dream like Martin Luther it was killed by Freddie Krueger Gotta live to find my purpose not acceptin’ this defeat BUT – I WAKE UP SWEATIN’ IN MY SHEETS EVERYTIME I GO TO SLEEP I BE HEADED TO THE –