- published: 21 May 2016
- views: 698881
Rikers Island (/ˈraɪkərz/) is New York City's main jail complex, as well as the name of the 413.17-acre (1.672 km2) island on which it sits, in the East River between Queens and the mainland Bronx, adjacent to the runways of LaGuardia Airport. Supposedly named after Abraham Rycken, the island is home to one of the world's largest correctional institutions. The island itself is part of the Bronx, though it is included as part of Queens Community Board 1 and has a Queens ZIP code of 11370. The jail complex, operated by the New York City Department of Correction, has a budget of $860 million a year, a staff of 9,000 officers and 1,500 civilians managing 100,000 admissions per year and an average daily population of 10,000 inmates. However, it is notorious for abuse and neglect of prisoners in recent years, which has attracted increased media and judicial scrutiny that resulted in numerous rulings against the New York City government. In May 2013, Rikers Island ranked as one of the ten worst prisons in the United States, based on reporting in Mother Jones magazine.
Well listen to me, you young hoods, this is some advice
You do the crime, you're payin the price
Cause if you're in the drug spots, sellin crack on the block
Snatchin chains, bustin brains, like a real hardrock
If you ever hear a cop say you're under arrest
Go out just like a trooper, stick out your chest
Cause you might have been robbin, you might have been whylin
But you won't be smilin on Riker's ISLAND
Just to hear the name it makes your spine tingle
This is a jungle where the murderers mingle
This ain't a place that's crowded but there's room for you
Whether you're white or you're black, you'll be black and blue
Cause in every cellblock, there is a hardrock
with a real nice device that's called a sock lock
Don't ever get caught in a crime my friend
Cause this bus trip is not to Adventure's Inn
They have a nice warm welcome, for new inmates
Razors, and shanks, and sharp edged plates
Posses will devour, punks with power
After the shower it's, rush hour
So watch your back before you get sacked
These a bunch of maniacs that's about to attack
If you're a hustlin pro, keep a low profile'n
Cause you won't be smilin on Riker's ISLAND
C-74, adolescents at war
Put your ear to the floor, you can hear the roar
They take you out of BC, they now found you a cage
All eyes are glued to you like you're up on stage
If you're soft as a leaf, don't get into a beef
And God be with you chief if you got gold teeth
Some try to be hard, front and say I'm God
Don't know a lesson say a blessin, you're gonna get scared
(Yo call the C.O.) That won't be necessary
He'll watch him beat you down, and take your commissary
Inside the lunchroom, you meet your doom
Someone is lookin at your sharper than a tablespoon
Use your hands like a man, don't go out like a chump
Never 'fess, bench press so that you can be pumped
If you don't got a game, you get beaten as lame
And scared as a mouse in a house of pain
So to all the jailbirds that listen to hip-hop
Move your pelvis like Elvis do the Jailhouse Rock
You might be coolin, you might be stylin
But you won't be smilin on Riker's ISLAND
If you're on a drug tip, don't be a Dumbo
Police investigate like Columbo if they think you're sellin jumbo
But don't get me wrong, it might be your thing
Whether smilin on the Island, or singin in Sing-Sing
The way you're takin pictures and you're givin a smile
Cheerin, the priveledge for a long long while
So keep your money pilin, keep profilin