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Tech Omega - Imprisoned
(from the album Picture)
© copyright 2006

Verse 1: Tech Omega
I take stroll on the ave down through memory lane/
And pictured the pain of those who were vividly slain/
Tears fall shots bang ears instantly ring/
White folks say break cause if we bend then they gain/
Katrina came they was sending me blame/
Lives lost in vain from in which we came/
I move life on the mic as Iím spitting this rap flow/
I kick, kick, push like Lupe Fiasco/
Rappers passed away like we donít need them/
I need hip-hop like slaves needed they freedom/
My mind lies dormant with a beautiful scene/
Green lands waters streams itís a beautiful dream/
Life moves so fast I really canít even sleep yo/
Cause I hear my heart beat over this deep flow/
I love the rush I seek from my hip-hop people/
The fans get hype itís the love I wanna keep yo.

Spit whatís real and what I feel so take a second to listen and chill/
Cause I love Hip-hop You Love Hip-hop they said it would stop but it wonít cause/

Verse 2: Tech Omega
Young kids search for hope, but without a place to take it/
Ran for they dreams, but got too tired to try and chase it/
I came with a bang and gave the game a face lift/
Iím motivated living this for those who never made it/
We bow our heads in a moment of peace/
For those of you killed in the streets who died over some beef/
Brothers be killing they own just for stealing a buck/
We trying to move forward in life but were feeling so stuck/
And ever since we lost Pac we feeling so much/
Tried to lean on a shoulder now Iím feeling a crush/
Surrounded by liars and snakes I prefer to sleep awake/
Itís shame how many change when it comes to take cake/
How many rappers sellout for they fame and they break/
And how many sold they love just to gain some hate/
Ayo they said hip-hop died like the feeling is true/
But see we know thatís a lie Ďcause when it comes to you.


Verse 3: Tech Omega
Take a journey through my thoughts with the pen and pad/
Drawing pictures in the tracks when Iím spitting my raps/
Bullets and raps exchange like daps over these maps/
Blacks rock a style of shacks over they backs/
Pimps on the block control cops holding they strip/
Young chicks selling they beauty for the doe in the whip/
Showing they lips while cold hands stroking and holding they hips/
Made a lil cash now they stress smoking a cig/
Preachers in the church speak and preach a better wealth/
About self determination and respecting yourself/
But we love that yeah we love that ice/
Cause it shines so bright when we at the club right/
Pops said be yourself but the money had me caught/
And I was never free to learn the message he taught/
So I think about his words when I come to the day/
And pour a forty for those dead who never heard him say.