Pol Pot's Khmer Rouge were
back up by the Viet Kong,
and the North Vietnamese.
They were sent out to purify the Khmer race,
by creating a classless society.
They rose to power by taking over rural provinces.
By recruiting soldiers, poor illiterate peasants.
By the time Pol Pot took the capital Phnom Penh.
His military has reached over thirty thousands.
They emptied cities, bomb banks, and cleared out prisons.
Separated families, eliminated private property, and outlaw religions.
There was no warning shot, what's told was never twice.
It was total chaos, they destroy all aspects of social and cultural life.
Soldiers demanded that all families pack up
small supplies, of food and clothes.
They was told, "they'll be back in due time."
To leave their homes and march out of town in a single file line.
They said that: "the United States
was going to bomb Phnom Penh's heart."
But it was a lie, it was more like a dying death march.

It's about POWER, TERRITORY, and RICE,
And of course that comes with a hefty price.
Whenever there's WAR, there's always sacrifice,
And it's usually the innocent who lose their life.

They target all intellectuals, survivors.
Prisoners often ditch their eye glasses,
Teachers try to pass as taxi drivers.
No one was told who was running the country but ah,
Only that those in power was call "Angka".
Children's was brainwash into believing in them,
They was taught that: "there's no such thing as parents."
At camps, most execution occurred at night.
Soldiers awoke prisoners suspected of any crimes.
And quietly lead them into the field or forests,
Ordered them to dig their own grave those who mark for death.
They're either stab, beaten or bury alive to save bullets.
"This ain't no bullshit".
In the next four years, the horror of the killing fields rise,
With almost everyone in the country force to grow rice.
It was a tragedy base in part of the mistaken idea it seem,
they thought that that the ancient reservoirs
was a giant rice growing machines.

It's about POWER, TERRITORY, and RICE,
And of course that comes with a hefty price.
Whenever there WAR, there always sacrifice,
And it's usually the innocent who lose their life.

from : " DALAMA... the lost chapter." 
traX : # 4  ( copy righted 2003 ) 

some time when i'm alone,
i sit and stare at the skies.
my minds starts to wonder ,
about the whats and why,
are we here and whats
the meaning our our existences?
so i started reading and researching since...
i love my land to death,
a child of the killing fields.
now i'm on a quest,
for the truth to reveal.
cus i still feel the pain,
for all the lost souls,
from the khmer rouge regime,
that turn Cambodia into a hell hole.
i'm high tech into the future,
but i aint got no past.
cus all the pictures and memories,
all end up in ashes.
flash backs and stories,
is my only recolllection.
praCh gett'n school from by the oldies,
so i can pass it down to the next generation.
education of the lost chapter,
the hidden truth.
the fact about how Cambodia collapse,
cus pol pot ( spit ) got bought !
and got genocidal.
why tho do the good have to suffer?
i guess while they hidi'n in the woods,
the bad got tougher.
with weapons of distruction,
supply by the unknown.
no question or discussion,
till the prince is dethrown.
blown huts, open guts, hole in heads.
from hand grenade to AK's spray'em all dead.
baby thrown up, only to fall on knives.
crazy grown ups flip'n coins, live or die.
decided by the teens,
who carries machine guns, machetties.
if they don't like what they see'n ,
then your' bleed'n or beheaded.
with red scarves around their neck,
resepect their law.
your out there to grow crops,
if not then your toss in hot tars.
got stars but you can't look,
because imagination is a violation
if they catch you reading books.

a world of mayhem when man minds corrupted,
but no matter what happen
don't you ever give up.
escape the hell hole, wake up and rise.
hold on to your soul, take control of your life.
we travel a million miles across lands and seas,
into the millennium beyond the light speed.
for every dusk, there must be a dawn,
so hold on cus life goes on...

some time when i'm alone,
i sit and stare at the skies.
my mind starts to wonder,
about the whats and why.
are we here, what the
meaning of our existence?
so i started reading and reserching since...
travel'n the earth to my birth place born.
Cambodia got Angkor Watt,
but Battabong is where i'm from.
long time ago, no. seems like yesterday.
go ask the elders, thats what they'll say.
took their words for it,
when they show me their war wounds.
innocents civillions.
two millions murdered by the khmer rouge.
they show me pictures,
of hitlers in the making.
man made guerilla,
the killers off springs.
they came March'n in April,
middle of the month.
talk'n about " we come in peace."
sneaking in tanks and guns.
the revolution has begun,
now every one is equal.
but deep in their cross eyes,
they lying to the people.
time to go, pack your clothes,
and flee the city.
welcome to the new world order.
and it won't be pretty.
now all you need to know
is how to grow crops.
don't ask to many question
or you will get shot.
work'n on the field
from sun rise to sun set.
give you a rice soup meal,
so you can feel the sweat.
you got sumthin to say
raise your hand,
they take you away
and never hear of or seen again.
man i can go on and on
reminisce if it takes.
about the field and
how its fill with venomous snakes.
back brake'n jobs, it's your life,
gotta get it done. if ever again,
you wanna see your wife,
daughter, or son.
families divided, country crumbles,
all cus of...
the leader of the revolution...lost love.
" and that aint the only thing he lost,
that mo-fo, lost his mind. "

 

from : DALAMA...the end'n is just the beginnin."
trax : # 13  ( copy righted 1999 )

on December 31st, 1999
|the time on earth is 11:59
the planet will eline,
cause'n massive gravitation.
brought forth by the titans.
satin hell raisers,
demons, emerge'n out of shadows.
flame'n ashen acers,
its man kind final battle.
out breaks the plague,
the black death for humans.
threw the air it spreads,
there nuth'n u can do man.
contaminated waters,
shortage of oxygen.
a global warm'n,
and no o-zone protection.
nuclear weapons,
pointed every direction.
the pentagon panic,
so they press the red button.
destruction...
days turn to night,
in the middle of noon.
see flash'n lights,
then the cloud'd mushroom...
Ka-Booommm!!! Boom. Boom.!!!

the cycle of life twirls unpredicted,
its the end of the world as we know it.
( say what! )
the cycle of life twirls unpredicted,
its the end of the world as we know it.
( say what! )
the cycle of life twirls unpredicted,
its the end of the world as we know it !!!

i'm dress on disguise,
eye blunted red.
microphone by the thigh,
i'm hunt'n the dead.
is it sumthin i said?
to make 'em rise from there graves.
the seas turn red. skies turn bayes.
deep into darkness,
beyond outta space.
i'm race'n god speed into uncharted place.
light years away, from civilizations,
map'n out the stars, connect'n dots consultations.
got astronomers wait'n, scope'n out the skies.
got them wonder'n,
if i'll return like resurrected back to life.

from : NorthStarReurrec ( the album )
traX : # 1 ( copy righted 2001 )

beyond the killing field,
a quarter of a century after the genocide.
after 2 million people murdered,
the other 5 million survive.
the fabric of the culture,
beauty drips the texture.
i find myself in Long Beach,
the next Cambodian mecca.
beside srox Khmer, whale shrie Angkor Wat,
some people still struggling,
on the aftermath of Pol POt.
for some futures so bright, looks like high beams,
for other are lost in the American Dream.
for me it seems i'm on the road to no-where fast.
hitting speed bumps, drive'n in circles,
vehicle running out of gas.
they're a gap in our generation,
between the adults and kids.
but since i'm bilingual,
i'ma use communication as a bridge.
first i'ma knock down the walls,
between me and my parents,
listens to their stories an all
with out interference.
what they experience,
was evil at its darkest form.
their mind, body and heart,
shattered and torn.
the trauma of the war,
effect the refugee and foreigner.
suffering from deep depression,
post traumatic stress disorder.
it's a new world order,
new threats that we're facing.
terrorist and INS deportation.
you can try to fight it go ahead be my guest,
cause its one strike and your out of the U.S.
theres an epidemic thats killing us surely.
over things we don't even own,
like blocks and territories.
so call "OG" recruiting young ones.
jumping them in gangs,
giving them use guns.
not even old enuff to speak,
already hold'n heat,
walk'n a dangerous route,
talk'n about "code of the streets".

seek and your'll find,
the truth is where me hearts at.
i'm speak'm my mind,
and let my rhyme design this art of fact,
line to line from front to back,
from the heart of praCh,
comes the "art of faCt".

i've been asleep snore'n,
now i've awake'n from my nap.
my brain been storming,
so i put on my think'n cap.
digging deeper into my mind,
at times i find it hard to hack.
but i'm a messenger this time,
delivering you this "art of faCt ".
fast track, racers love cars,
spending every dollars and cents.
getting it all fix up, mix up in bad investments.
but thats there choice to choose,
some parents are still comfuse,
the different between,
discipline and child abuse.
i use to get whip and hit,
with wire and ta-bong.
it use to be a family matter,
until the law got involved.
for boys hang'n out,
thats ok, unlimited minutes.
for girls; what you talk'n about,
thats prohibited.
some is scared of it,
pushing them to the edge.
some parents still believe in,
fixing up marriage.
i inherited all of this,
the knowledge of the faCts.
being a Khmer that i am,
i feel the weight on my back.
but look what we're building,
right here in Long Beach.
a Cambodian Town,
down Anaheim streets.
the seed has been planted,
the foundation has been laid,
all it take is time,
and " wha-la " its all great!
i was raised not to be raciest,
so my judgement is color blind fold.
to judge one by their action,
and keep that mind frame on hold!
we're gonna stick together,
like cook rice in a bowl.
open stores, markets,
products, merchandise...sold!
Business Bureau and Agencies,
to Chamber of Commerce.
fields in teaching, medicals to law,
yall we even running for offices.
there hope in the kids,
their learning faster then we did,
traditional dances to classical music.
old method is still used,
you get sick, you get coined.
New Year Celebration,
every body in the world come and join.
i am proud to say;
" i'm a Khmer " with pride.
because i praCh,
refuse to let me culture die!

seek and your'll find,
the truth is where my heart at.
i'm speak'n my mind
and let my rhyme design this art of faCt.
line to line, from front to back.
from the heart of praCh,
come this " art of faCt."

from : " DALAMA...the lost chapter."
traX : # 19    ( copy righted 2003 )

i was welcome into this world,
nineteen seventy nine was the year.
those was the time,
the end'n of the killing field in Kampuchea.
i love Cambodia, cus i was born there.
but during those time,
my people was living in fear.
all cramp up in camp concentration,
millions of refugees can u hear me?
are u listening?
there just gotta be a way out of there.
so i " sah-ma sah-put-toe ta sac "
then disappear.
my country crumble'n
cus communist is conquering
from all the broke'n promises
anonymous sponsoring.
fleeing the country, knees deep in defeat.
i can't sleep. some make it threw,
the other may they rest in peace.
cus after one thousand, three hundred,
and sixty days, struggle'n for life.
dodge'n boobies traps land mines,
travel'n day and night.
we fight for our rights,
because we refuse to lose.
flee'n for freedom use'n flip flop for shoes.

i was welcome into the U.S.
nineteen eighty three was the year.
soon our feet hits the ground,
my mom busted in tears.
words can't describe,
a moment so rare.
and right by her side,
my father was there.
staring at the skies,
hold'n each other.
realize we survive the genocide,
and still together.
" twye ba kome (  loc yahy-loc tha )"
and praise to Buddha.
cus from that point on,
" it can only get BETTER! "
bright lights, big city,
we sheltered under shadows.
a refugee community,
two family per house hold.
needed clothes, neighborhood thrift store.
needed food, check the fridge for left over.
our first car was like a cart,
push it to start, and once it spark,
it's already dark.
days turn to night,
night turn to day,
something gotta change,
we couldn't live that way.
so we round up the spare changes,
from over the years we save.
then bless the rest,
and move west to the golden state.
California, Long Beach.

from : Dalama..." then end'n is just the beginnin."
trax : # 6    ( copy righted 1999 )

           

i was born in a hut,
umbilical cord cut.
alil bit torn up,
when the big storm erupt.
it mudded the the sand,
flooded the land,
rain drops threw roof top,
we had to use pots and pans.
it drown the town into a lake.
i had a close encounter
wit a venomous snake.
i was deep asleep
it was wide awake.
all it take was one bite,
my life would have ended that day.
but it went way,
so on earth i was kept.
i was already facing death,
before i even took my first step.
and worst yet,
threats surrounds us.
even though i was a new born,
innocent like a Unicorn,
i'll die too if the Khmer rouge found us.
bombs burst, the lands to bits.
and people disappear like they never exist.
nobody ask questions,
cause they afraid they'll be next.
so many rumors, nobody wanna say shit.
there's even stories about a massive grave pit.
love our land to death, but can't stay no longer.
it's life or death, we gotta make it...
" across the border."


watch out !
for boobie traps and land mines,
ain't no time to take breaks.
death is close behind,
night or day it's not OK !
gotta stay awake !
no matter what it takes,
we gotta make,
" the Great Escape ! "

we take, wait.
in past tence we took.
valuable belongings
wrap it up in sheets.
a pair of pot and pan,
so we can cook food to eat.
take what weight we can carry,
and leave the rest behind.
we had to move fast,
what we didn't have was time.
we wasn't' the only one,
there were hundreds apond thousands,
man, women, children,
swimming into the mountains.
look'n for hope,
like fishes searching for water.
our only chance was,
making it across the border.
we ran out of food,
eat what we could find.
plus we had to watch our steps,
for boobie traps and land mines.
thirsty no water,
we had to drink rain.
it got to the point,
where we need blood,
just to pump the vains.
when there total silence,
you know danger ahead.
and when the bomb goes off,
then you know some one is dead.
but forward ahead.
we gotta make it further.
no matter what it takes,
we gotta make it across the border.
we lost our heart,
but found the strength in our soul,
words can't describe,
but the stories must be told.
the fields, the jungles,
the mountains of death.
the struggles continues,
but we're gonna make it !

watch out!
for boobie traps and land mines
ain't no times to take breaks.
death is close behind,
night or day, its not Ok!
gotta stay awake!
no matter what it takes,
we gotta make...
"the Great Escape!"

from : Dalama..."the lost chapter."
traX : # 6  ( copy righted 2003)