[Hook] Yo, they got us locked down, in a cell under the ground Tryin' to push for a mainstream sound Yo, they got us locked down, in a cell under the ground Tryin' to push for a mainstream sound Every artist locked down, in a cell under the ground Tryin' to push for a mainstream sound Every rapper locked down, in a cell under the ground Tryin' to push for a mainstream sound [Dice Raw] Man, it used to feel like hip-hop had a lock on my soul And a deal was the only way I'd get parole I got knocked years ago when I wrote my first rhyme Ever since then, I been locked down doin' time Payin' dues with a lot to gain, but more to lose I play the game, but they keep changin' the rules The studio's a holding cell for lyrical criminals Doing demo tapes, hold mics like shanks Battlin', that's like a fight in the yard Lines chase n***as down like Lieutenant Gerard But I love it there, and some say that I'm institutionalized Freestyling's our only form of exercise I don't lift weights, lift my mind to a higher state If your sh**'s wack, you just can't relate I have nightmares of bein' back on the streets But when I wake up in my cell, I feel relief Bein' on tour is like bein' transferred to jail And the companies reattempt to boost your sales In my last case, they came at me with a deal The D.A., I mean A&R, said "You can still keep sh** real But instead of Raw, be Dice Chill Give us some hits with some commercial appeal" I refused, then sent back to my cell And from next time, a poet's memoirs from jail [Hook] [Steve G's] The prisoner, verbal incision They strangle me with barbed wires of fire, f** a mainstream vision The label is the feds, they wanna find me and sign me With a market and promotion behind me, but they slimy My cellmate Dice Raw is nice, y'all I a**a**inate rehearsal, if I go commercial I'll slice y'all Studio's solitary, so I'm soliterrorizin' MCs Steve G's, freeze, melt, refreeze Mics get raped on my cell block, we battle for commissary Parole boards for adversary I lost the trial, I lost the case What a waste, judge threw the rhyme book in my face But my brain left and right is like the unstoppable engine Locked down, pushin' for mainstream like syringes f** a C.O., my sh**'s gone gold like C3PO Ask Kelo, he know we go T-O The top, this is cell block hip-hop Yo, the underground keep the shank hot Locked down with MCs doin' life bids Beware when the pen zags and zigs [Hook] [Black Thought] Aiyyo, it was far from warm, the middle of a storm And 5th Dynasty was on our way to perform It was me, Steve G's, Dice and the Quick Drawn And we got pulled over, we knew something was wrong The law wasn't concerned with license and registration Insurance information, or our point of destination But peep, they got us up out the Jeep five deep And took a look and saw the mics up under the seat And start'd snappin', flippin' and sh** like "Who's rappin'?" Got on the radio and signaled back to the captain Who warned them we was known for action "Use caution, and get them contracts from when they brought us back" and The fingerprints matched and linked identities D.T.s was like "sh**, it's the 5th MCs" Ain't no escapin', locked us in a lab and started tapin' Mandatory, the judge said "f** jury deliberation" Maximum incarceration In these camps for concentration we call radio stations A place where hip-hoppin' is against the law Forever locked down within a lower corridor Of sound, where they sniff out cells with bloodhounds Pure MCs, MCs' remains is found Pick the park when a record executive's around Yo, we bubble to the top notch round [Hook]