The Rhyme Asylum was formed in backstreet alleyways on the east-side of Los Angeles ( yeah, from Lincoln Heights to Montebello). Born to a generation of bastard sons raised on hip hop, it provided soul escape from an over-aggressive (indeed hostile) task force. Using an ancient technique deemed half mental exercise, half spiritual release, devout members found shelter from society's corruptions- in another dimension. Intense tribal feuds and illicit drug trades seduced disillusioned youth daily, but the sanctuary comforted even the most tired, poor, tempest-tossed dregs of the neighborhood. Once safe-gaurded from external influences, the power of inspiration protected and relieved the followers internally. This method took root under city street lights, but quickly flourished in the ever-growing jail system. In fact, the harsh conditions of the prison-complex forged the hearts of the captives like pieces of raw steel... heated with affliction and pounded by conflict. Emerging from the obscurity of the dungeons yelling, "our word is our weapon!", the sons of criminals bore witness to a morally-decayed race being oppressed by a foreign-based regime. Aside from the gestapo tactics employed by the State to lock up the prophets in kamps or destroy them with poison substances, the order still exists today. Utilizing this sacred practice of meditation, they offer testimonies over rhythmic percussions. Some people consider it Vocal Insurgency. Others label it Urban Artistic Expression... we call it The Rhyme Asylum.