|
| |
Marry Maladies | "THE NEVER ENDING BATTLE" Compilation
I
guess the story begins in the Highlands about 5 years ago. It's a neighborhood of The City,in close proximity to ours (one of the few with which we have not become deadly enemies). I don't remember the very reason for our visit to the hilltop apartment-complex on that particular day, but my partner and I did frequent their varrio a lot that season. We both saw the value of
maintaining good relations with an allied 'hood a few kilometers from ours. Plus, the young men of the Highlands proved to be straight-up hustlers, adapted to sharing communal values and keeping traditional order. But that day we couldn't find any of the guys. It was such a sunny afternoon, too. It didn't make any sense for them to be indoors on such a blessed spring day. Then, an older lady warned us, "la policia anda en friega, y qieren llevar a algien." (Translation: The cops are hot, and they want to take in somebody) As soon as she stopped speaking, I was staring at the hood of a C.R.A.S.H. unit squad car... and two of the LAPD's dirtiest stared right back at me. I turned
toward Bugsy and asked him what he thought the chances were of them leaving us in peace. He didn't even get a chance to answer. When they opened their cardoor's, we both knew we were sitting at the 0 percentage.
"Hello, officer, Nice day, today. Huh?" I initiated conversation.
"I want to see both hands on your heads, and drop down to your knees, Now!" They turned it into a
confrontation.
"But, Mister Officer, there must be some kind of mistake- we were conducting no evil. See we are
unarmed."
They both tightly gripped their pistols and threatened to release our souls, if we didn't comply. I looked around at the people of the projects and could feel their fear. I read the hopelessness in their eyes and understood their silence. After all, they were TERRORIZED by the same agency. As he handcuffed me, one of the pigs asked which pocket my Identification Card was in. I noticed he was brown... like me. So I said, "Hey Bro, my compadre and I were born in The City and hold legal citizenship. We earned High School Equivalency Diplomas, too, by the way. But, why are you gaffling us?"
The white cop interrupted, "We're conducting a criminal investigation that involves certain members of the Highlands Gang. We're taking all you bastards in for questioning."
"Oh, then there is your error! See, you assumed we were from the Highlands. But in actuality, we are not. Just read our tattoos."
They looked at each other, and then at their watches. Shift's almost over, boys. What do ya say we just chalk this one down as a weird experience and all go home, huh? No dice. The white cop thought of something to say, "So, which apartment do you live in. Oh, you don't live here. Then, what are you guys doing. Buying drugs? Gang-banging?"
"No, way!" We just laughed at his stupidity- to show him we weren't offended by his prejudice. "Our presence here isn't as complex as the scenarios you're devising. It is, in reality, very simple. Look, I'm a single man (...for the second time this week) and there's a house with three beautiful sisters here. Personally, I'm trying to get next to the youngest one. She should be
coming home from CalState any minute now. And to tell you the truth, officer, I've grown quite fond of her company."
"Well maybe she'll write to you in jail, dumb-ass", hollared the brown cop after running our info on the I.D. cards. "They're both in the gang database."
What gang database? You mean all those info cards the LAPD filled out on us in the early '90s were going into a computer. The only reason we cooperated with them was because we thought they were documenting the streets. You know, like a yearbook. We got caught up in the ghetto paparazzi. But who would have thought, volunteering to have our picture taken by the local police department
would come back to haunt us? Shit. In the '80s they gave me a Dodger baseball card collection; I had no idea they were scheming on my generation.
"You two aren't supposed to be hanging around each other. Not in this neighborhood, and not in even in your own 'hoods. Got that? As soon as the City passes the Injunctions, we're gonna stop all you bastards from congregating to plot crimes."
"But, I knew him from the elementary school playground. Our families lived four houses away from each other, down the alley. Who else am I supposed to associate with?" Trying to appeal to his common sense, I reasoned "If you really want to keep us seperated (to better society), why are you
going to lock us up in a dungeon together? You're defeating your purpose."
He wasn't trying to be reasonable (nor logical) at that point. As far as he was concerned, he was following orders (and was probably programmed to believe the same) No, mister officer had already decided my fate as he grabbed my elbow and pulled me towards his squad car. Helplessness turned to frustration and the gathering crowd began to voice my anguish. But the cops were trained
to ignore public opinion.
When the cardoor slammed shut, trapping me in a caged backseat, I caught a glimpse of a young boy throw an aluminum can at the cop car- then quickly disappear through the dark corridors of the projects. The white cop (with one foot in the car and one foot out) still had his door open, but was frozen with astonishment. "Did you see that little shithead! He just threw his trash at us!"
"Don't worry", said the brown cop comfortingly, "Ten years from now, we'll be arresting that little punk and all his friends". He gave his partner a devilish grin and added, "Just think of him as our job security".
(...to be continued)
WAR OF THE WORlDS/ two dubolow three
Hear We Come
The story you have just read is true and factual. Not even the names have been changed, because only Christ the King was innocent. We will PROTECT ourselves, and SERVE our Lord.
skribeOne
Los Angeles/ CalifAZTLAN
Dedicated to Cartoon from O.T.W. for
living, and dying, for dope rhymes and beats.
I seek ASYLUM from reality keeping time to RHYME melodies.
My abnormalities been predicted since convicted of felonies.
I'm balancing on a thin line (on the verge of insane)
Just a Divine Name's slave mindwave breaks chains
Providing escape from the ill-state of the mentally strange
Imagination daily saving C-razy Der-ranged
Homocidal, fatal, labeled sick lunatic status
Me vale poco Varrio loko using vocal apparatus
Locked in Straight-Jackets, face masks, legs in chains
A wristband around the hand is the master plan these days
From the cellblocks to street blox, all these cops are dirty.
and the 3 strikes law is like job security.
Maddest of the captives, bangin' bars gettin' active
Using assasin tactics, Attacking the gaurd soundz attractive.
Impacted hard by the war-zone. Syndrome: Stress, Postraumatic
Kick back with combat veterans and adrenaline addicts
Full-fledged fanatics for this word game, brang the sword blades to play
We came to blow-up like the World Trade, then best be on our way.
They say the cops are coming to get you and their numbers are scary
Never tarry, come take refuge in hip hop's Sanctuary.
Wearing Straight-Jackets, face masks, legs in chains
A wristband around the hand is the masterplan these days
From the cellblocks to street blox, all these cops are dirty.
and the 3 strikes law is like job security.
The impurity of the system's wicked
RA's how we kick it. Afflictin' Laws
got me tripping... existin' lost, tossed and twisted.
I risk it all and resist it
enlist the call to spit this witness
Up in this cause without limits
only ask Holy God for forgiveness
business is serious, profiting in misery
prison industry delirious
caught in their complex lies
designed to keep the people from hearing us.
Inmates are furious
at sherriffs deputies closely inspecting the visuals
Treat us like soul individuals not habitual criminals.
Locked in Straight-Jackets, face masks, legs in chains
A wristband around the hand is the masterplan these days
From the cellblocks to street blox, all these cops are dirty.
and the 3 strikes law is like job security.
Close to 4,000 men and women are serving 25 to life sentences
in prison for petty theft and simple possession of drugs.
THIS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE! F.A.C.T.S. has plans to put an
Initiative on the November 2, 2004 ballot to ammend this
vicious law so that only violent offenses can be used as strikes.
Are you with us?? Families to Ammend California's Three Strikes
(F.A.C.T.S.) We need your support!! Call: (213)746-4844
Join F.A.C.T.S.- We meet every Monday evening at 7:00 PM
4167 So Normandie Ave in Los Angeles
F.A.C.T.S. State office 3982 South Figueroa St. #210
Los Angeles, CA 90037
[email protected]
www.facts1.com
"THE NEVER ENDING BATTLE" Coming Soon!!
a double CD featuring hip-hop / spoken souldiers from throughout Cali.
This CD is dedicated to Steve "Cartoon" Rivera, his family, and for all of our fallen souldiers who fell victim to the streets...
All proceeds go directly to the family of Steve Rivera...
Featuring:
5th
Battalion, O.T.W., N'Cognito, The Answer, La Paz, Groundskeepers, El
Nuevo Xol, The Looters, El Vuh, Los Tumbados, Elements of the Outer Realm, Taco
Shop Poets, JDubs (Dissnfranchised), Krazy Race, Enhanced Vision Project, Rhyme
Asylum, Guaranteed 1 and D Boogie, Terminal Madness, Santos, Los
Illegals Comedy Click, Stricke 9, Robin Garcia, Global City, Pantera, Jupitersciples, Santos, and many many more...
BE ON THE LOOK OUT AT WWW.5THBATTALION.COM
and WWW.BROWNPRIDE.COM
|
|
|
|
