“Prison is a State of Living Not the State of Me!”
One light year away from hell, a million miles from where I wanna be.
Seems like yesterday I was sittin’ in a federal detention center; no food to eat; going to sleep, one eye shut, to the sound of grown men wailing, too G-d to be put out of their misery. October 27, 2009 is the day I walked outta hell, escorted by federal marshals. Some say prison don’t change you, it makes you worst. Violence, drugs, crooked cops, informants, state pen ain’t no different from the streets. Only difference is the square footage.
But I was never in jail because “prison is a state of living not the state of me!” My state of mind and this faith of mine allowed me to be a general and face this time. My moniker’s Shyne but I got the soul of Moses, living proof that the desert grows roses. I’ve transformed, just in case you haven’t noticed, I’m on a level higher than I ever been—I am HIM!!!”
I remember the pain but I can’t tell you what hurt more… The shackles cuffed so tight my blood couldn’t circulate. The time me and that 6’7” fool got it in and he was washing me ‘til I smashed him in the head with the weight bar! The time my moms said they were going to evict her and I had to beg and borrow because all my millions went to trial and appeal lawyers. Probably ain’t hurt as much as that Friday evening when they said guilty of attempted murder. I could hear my moms’ and grandmothers’ hearts shatter into a billion pieces.
What about the pain of listening to the radio wishing that was you performing. The pain of guilt knowing you ruined so many lives. The pain of watching young kids going to trial for multiple homicides. Can’t help but think I caused that. Maybe he listened to one of my songs and started tripping. Nah!!! Poverty and desperation cause that not hip-hop. My music is merely a reflection of obscenity and vulgarity that exists on the ground when politicians and leaders sell their souls to Wall Street and billion dollar industries. But maybe I could’ve done more to help my lil bros. Speaking to them, feeding them. I hate watching a baby serving life in prison. I hate myself for not being on the other side of the b wall to help!!!