Yeah I said it. Yeah, I know who the fuck I am talking about. The nigga you kids worship. The nigga you stay tryin to imitate, steady tryna duplicate. The nigga that stays in ya stereo, the nigga that spits at the click of your internet page, the nigga that you try to joc ya swag from. Ha, yes. Dwyane Carter, Lil wayne, Weezy, Weezy f. Baby, F. Baby, Mr. Carter, The Best Rapper Alive. Scratch that. The Best Rapper Dead. Don't get me wrong, I jam weezy. But for him to be one of my idols, or for me to try n joc his swag by titling myself b.weezy, or b.carter is personally degrading to myself. I am a lover of hip hop. Not just the sound, but the message and culture. Common. When I listen to this man, I am informed of what is going on in the world around me. My intellect is being stiumlated by his metaphoric messages. This is the sound I love. This is the melody that causes me to stay faithful to hip hop. Common is mostly positve, though I don't know him personally, I never read any negative statements, or see him conducting himself in a disgraceful manner. He seems like a gentleman yet strong. Weezy f baby, as you guys like to call him... this nigga is slowly killing himself and doesn't even know it. Yes he is lyrical talented, I am no hater, nor am I knocking his gifts. But why doesn't he embrace his talent and allow it to take him to possibilities he never even dreamed of. Jay-z, Nas, Andre 3000, these niggas not only made bread while they killed the rap game, these niggas have set a foundation in life. I don't know their personal business, but I doubt they have stooped to the levels of lil wayne. Some know, some don't but Lil wayne is a drug addict. Not just a weed head, like some people think. This nigga regularly, and I mean regularly sips on codine. He also snorts a lot of cocaine. If he only knew what he was doing to his body and how slowly he is killing himself. Why? Its like dude, you are an investment in life yourself. You have fans, family, finances and freedom. Why slowly take yourself away from all that? Why claim the title of Best Rapper Alive, hell nah not even claim it, NIGGA you demanded the title, and the listeners approved, yet you really should be ready to call ya self Best Rapper Dead. I am not wishing death, but the way we conduct our lives really shows what our futures maybe. Have you seen intervention? That shit is sad, and honestly makes me want to stay away from marijuana which is my drug preference. Though it may not have as harmful side affects as other hardcore drugs, it still kills the human mind. The mind that, if you studied it, you would be amazed at god's creation. They say the human mind is far more advanced than any computer and has the capacity to absorb 97% more information than what humans actually use. When I read these studies I was embarrased. Since we only use about 3% of our brains, I know by using marijuana for quite some time now I have only decreased that percentage. It really kills me when I think of the time I wasted not learning new things. I would have loved to expand my mind by learning new instruments, or a new language, or even read more books. I can't turn back, so I plan to just turn around. I am teaching myself to appreciate my mind as a gift from god. There are people that are unfortunate and have mental illnesses which brings them much suffering. They can never really live normal lives. I am not apart of that group. I have my mind, and it is healthy. I should embrace it and nourish it with knowledge. I am not dis'n lil wayne, hell I digg him in a weird kinda way. But he isn't making really wise decisions and the sad part is he is proud of this. I have a lil sympathy for those that I see on Intervention that feel bad about their habit, but when you can walk around promoting it and praising it, you have a problem. This nigga is proud of himself. He goes to his shows fucked up on all kinda shit and doesn't give a fuck. Cuz he can. Yeah that nigga can, but one day, if he don't chill he isnt goin to have the chance.
Im out. Its time 2 lay it down.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Mary J.
Take me away.
It's 10:58 pm. Only a little over four ours since I've been away from my computer at work, yet this screen's been on my mind all day. I was itching to write while processing some orders earlier, but there was just too much to do. Got my headphones on, enjoying the sensual sounds of Ms. Jill Scott's "The Real Thing" soothe my soul. Let me light my blunt. Man, I've been smoking Ms. Mary J for, well lets see, I am 20, smoked my first blunt after my Grandmother's funeral, which was March 2002 I believe, so over six years. Damn. What is it about Ms. Mary, that keeps me so faithful to our one on one sessions? I can go without her, as I've done for long periods of time, but why do I miss her, think about her, feel as if I need her? Is it the incredible feeling she gives my body and mind, taking me on imaginative trips to fantasy worlds? To worlds I am not even able to describe. She soothes me, comforts me, and when I am stressed, she eases my mind. Reminds me to let go, and not too worry about the uncontrollable. Damn, she went out. Let me relight. Oooh. The exhale. It feels so wonderful, like the weight on my shoulders is lifted into the skies above. I can now reach, and break free of gravity and trickle the tips of my fingers through the clouds. The stressful day I had at work is erased from my memory, and a peaceful, tranquil, rain pours down on my skin. I exhale. Then inhale again. Seal my lips. And she flows through my lungs, though sitting up, I feel as if I am laying in a field, pillowed with beautiful, flowers. Tulips. Red. The smell delightful. It's dark outside. The sky perfectly lit. The stars beam as I gaze into this illustrious creation of God. Art at perfection. I love this place. I needed this place. I am at peace with the moment and in tune with all five senses. I can feel the grass between my toes, as I watch the moon fade behind the skies. My nose captured by the aroma of tulips, while my mouth is tasting the purity in the air. The sound. Piano. Such a melodic tune. Each chord flowing to the next, creating a harmonious ambiance around me. I must play. Man, I miss playing. Though I love to write, playing, smh, playing is powerful for me. I am high as hell and these sounds keep repeating themselves in my mind, like a broken record, can you hear it? Lol, nah I know you can't, I'm not that damn high. But I feel like pulling a bench up to the beautiful, grandiose, black and white keys. I want to indulge right now, and let this sound come to life with my fingers. I want the vibrations from my keys to flow through my body, and make me shiver. I want to close my eyes while I play, I don't know why I like to do it. But it really lifts me, I don't see who's listening, or who's not, I just see my notes flying up above me directing me my next chord. Damn. My unknown masterpiece probably won't last too long. I must play. Soon. Very soon. Lol @ this rambling. I just realized this was one big ass paragraph. I'll blame that on Mary J, so I won't feel so dumb. Well my mind is yawning, it must be time to lay in the bed and shut down so I am well rested for another stressful day. But I'll at least get to enjoy the anticipation of meditation as the hours unwind to come home to Ms. Mary J.
It's 10:58 pm. Only a little over four ours since I've been away from my computer at work, yet this screen's been on my mind all day. I was itching to write while processing some orders earlier, but there was just too much to do. Got my headphones on, enjoying the sensual sounds of Ms. Jill Scott's "The Real Thing" soothe my soul. Let me light my blunt. Man, I've been smoking Ms. Mary J for, well lets see, I am 20, smoked my first blunt after my Grandmother's funeral, which was March 2002 I believe, so over six years. Damn. What is it about Ms. Mary, that keeps me so faithful to our one on one sessions? I can go without her, as I've done for long periods of time, but why do I miss her, think about her, feel as if I need her? Is it the incredible feeling she gives my body and mind, taking me on imaginative trips to fantasy worlds? To worlds I am not even able to describe. She soothes me, comforts me, and when I am stressed, she eases my mind. Reminds me to let go, and not too worry about the uncontrollable. Damn, she went out. Let me relight. Oooh. The exhale. It feels so wonderful, like the weight on my shoulders is lifted into the skies above. I can now reach, and break free of gravity and trickle the tips of my fingers through the clouds. The stressful day I had at work is erased from my memory, and a peaceful, tranquil, rain pours down on my skin. I exhale. Then inhale again. Seal my lips. And she flows through my lungs, though sitting up, I feel as if I am laying in a field, pillowed with beautiful, flowers. Tulips. Red. The smell delightful. It's dark outside. The sky perfectly lit. The stars beam as I gaze into this illustrious creation of God. Art at perfection. I love this place. I needed this place. I am at peace with the moment and in tune with all five senses. I can feel the grass between my toes, as I watch the moon fade behind the skies. My nose captured by the aroma of tulips, while my mouth is tasting the purity in the air. The sound. Piano. Such a melodic tune. Each chord flowing to the next, creating a harmonious ambiance around me. I must play. Man, I miss playing. Though I love to write, playing, smh, playing is powerful for me. I am high as hell and these sounds keep repeating themselves in my mind, like a broken record, can you hear it? Lol, nah I know you can't, I'm not that damn high. But I feel like pulling a bench up to the beautiful, grandiose, black and white keys. I want to indulge right now, and let this sound come to life with my fingers. I want the vibrations from my keys to flow through my body, and make me shiver. I want to close my eyes while I play, I don't know why I like to do it. But it really lifts me, I don't see who's listening, or who's not, I just see my notes flying up above me directing me my next chord. Damn. My unknown masterpiece probably won't last too long. I must play. Soon. Very soon. Lol @ this rambling. I just realized this was one big ass paragraph. I'll blame that on Mary J, so I won't feel so dumb. Well my mind is yawning, it must be time to lay in the bed and shut down so I am well rested for another stressful day. But I'll at least get to enjoy the anticipation of meditation as the hours unwind to come home to Ms. Mary J.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
HIP HOP.
IS. NOT. DEAD.
You just gotta look for it. Grab ya shovels, and digg deep.
I will admit, HIP HOP has changed, but in this case, I don't agree it is for the better. Listeners keep stressin, saying b.shit like man give it up, its 2008, its all about that hyphy, and weezy movement. I say I guess. WTF, of course Hip Hop will change, and age with time, but why does it have to be taken, crumbled, and then reconstructed into something that it wasn't at first? This is where we go back, way back to before I was even born. The beginning of hip hop. Her birth.
Not tryin to dis anyone who's got pride in their city, but New York is who birthed Hip Hop. The big apple's streets nurtured, and took care of hip hop. New York is her mother and a loving mother she was. Most don't know, but she is related to the griots of West Africa. Which were traveling singers and poets whose musical style was reminiscent of hip hop. Some of these musicians came to the New World (the U.S) because they were purchased as slaves. In the 1960's, toasting became very popular in the African American culture. Toasting was the act of talking or chanting over a beat or rhythm. From toasting, the people started developing dances to go along with the music. So Hip Hop is actually over 50 years old, and she continues to age gracefully.
Some may know the famous Kool Herc, who was actually Clive Campbell who was born in Jamaica in the 50's I think. I only know of him because my Dad used to talk about him. Growing up when I would play Biggie, or Pac, my dad would always come and tell me how much Hip Hop had changed. How she had been poisoned by gangsters and thugs. Lol. I dunno if I agree with him completely, but he would throw on a Cool Herc record, and we would both jam, enjoying the energy beaming from the speakers. That's when Hip Hop and I really made a connection. It was a feeling, or a moment for me. I was watching my dad bop his head to the beat, while I tried to keep up, at the time I was only eight. Hip Hop embraced me with her open arms, and took me on a never ending journey.
Not knocking gangster rap, but man, back then pioneer rappers weren't about flaunting their bling, or their tight ass rims. They weren't about spitting out gangster and street tales. The had a different purpose, and that was primarily to display their skills on the mic, in a celebratory and fun manner. And of course there were those that would speak to the people. Like Public Enemy, they covered socio political issues and life.
Hip Hop is said to dead now. Nah, she can't die, cause she is loved by way too many. Hip hop lives strong, in 2008 more beautiful than ever. You can find her in Common, Talib Kwali, Mos Def, MURS, The Roots, Lupe Fiasco, Jill Scott, Nas, Rakim, Andre 3000 and many more. I mean these artists remind me of that day when I was eight, jammin old school tracks with my dad. Their lyrics link together and tell a story, or talk about a movement. Their metaphors touch your soul, and make you think about the words that just spit out their mouth's. Like damn, did he really just say that. One verse I wanna really stress is the MURS track, he said "People chase money, cause they too afraid to chase dreams!" TRUTH.
All hip hop is portrayed as is this big money making industry. I miss those artist that spit cuz they didn't have a choice, it was their favorite hobby, and they would do it just to get people to feel them. Not to stack them Benjamin Franklin's. Where is the passion? Everything is, kill this nigga, fuck this bitch, get these ho'z, stack this paper. LOL. What happen to talkin about dreams, love, life, imagination, celebration, family, and the struggles? Let me stop, these things still get talked about, by the artists I mentioned in the previous paragraph. They stayed true to Hip Hop, and never abandoned her. They are the ones who nurture her back to health, after she's been banged up by these imposter's that claim her all over tabloids and media!
Hip Hop will never die. She is loved by too many.
You just gotta look for it. Grab ya shovels, and digg deep.
I will admit, HIP HOP has changed, but in this case, I don't agree it is for the better. Listeners keep stressin, saying b.shit like man give it up, its 2008, its all about that hyphy, and weezy movement. I say I guess. WTF, of course Hip Hop will change, and age with time, but why does it have to be taken, crumbled, and then reconstructed into something that it wasn't at first? This is where we go back, way back to before I was even born. The beginning of hip hop. Her birth.
Not tryin to dis anyone who's got pride in their city, but New York is who birthed Hip Hop. The big apple's streets nurtured, and took care of hip hop. New York is her mother and a loving mother she was. Most don't know, but she is related to the griots of West Africa. Which were traveling singers and poets whose musical style was reminiscent of hip hop. Some of these musicians came to the New World (the U.S) because they were purchased as slaves. In the 1960's, toasting became very popular in the African American culture. Toasting was the act of talking or chanting over a beat or rhythm. From toasting, the people started developing dances to go along with the music. So Hip Hop is actually over 50 years old, and she continues to age gracefully.
Some may know the famous Kool Herc, who was actually Clive Campbell who was born in Jamaica in the 50's I think. I only know of him because my Dad used to talk about him. Growing up when I would play Biggie, or Pac, my dad would always come and tell me how much Hip Hop had changed. How she had been poisoned by gangsters and thugs. Lol. I dunno if I agree with him completely, but he would throw on a Cool Herc record, and we would both jam, enjoying the energy beaming from the speakers. That's when Hip Hop and I really made a connection. It was a feeling, or a moment for me. I was watching my dad bop his head to the beat, while I tried to keep up, at the time I was only eight. Hip Hop embraced me with her open arms, and took me on a never ending journey.
Not knocking gangster rap, but man, back then pioneer rappers weren't about flaunting their bling, or their tight ass rims. They weren't about spitting out gangster and street tales. The had a different purpose, and that was primarily to display their skills on the mic, in a celebratory and fun manner. And of course there were those that would speak to the people. Like Public Enemy, they covered socio political issues and life.
Hip Hop is said to dead now. Nah, she can't die, cause she is loved by way too many. Hip hop lives strong, in 2008 more beautiful than ever. You can find her in Common, Talib Kwali, Mos Def, MURS, The Roots, Lupe Fiasco, Jill Scott, Nas, Rakim, Andre 3000 and many more. I mean these artists remind me of that day when I was eight, jammin old school tracks with my dad. Their lyrics link together and tell a story, or talk about a movement. Their metaphors touch your soul, and make you think about the words that just spit out their mouth's. Like damn, did he really just say that. One verse I wanna really stress is the MURS track, he said "People chase money, cause they too afraid to chase dreams!" TRUTH.
All hip hop is portrayed as is this big money making industry. I miss those artist that spit cuz they didn't have a choice, it was their favorite hobby, and they would do it just to get people to feel them. Not to stack them Benjamin Franklin's. Where is the passion? Everything is, kill this nigga, fuck this bitch, get these ho'z, stack this paper. LOL. What happen to talkin about dreams, love, life, imagination, celebration, family, and the struggles? Let me stop, these things still get talked about, by the artists I mentioned in the previous paragraph. They stayed true to Hip Hop, and never abandoned her. They are the ones who nurture her back to health, after she's been banged up by these imposter's that claim her all over tabloids and media!
Hip Hop will never die. She is loved by too many.
Kinda new to this.
But I'll give it a shot.
The name is Rebecca. I usually go by Becca, or what I prefer B. It's short, and simple, which describes me to a T. I am short, lol, but a very simple person. I want this to be therapeutic for me actually. I write from time to time, but there is never a real purpose behind it. It comes out as a just because, or just to do. I want to really use writing as I've seen others done, a release. A redemption. emancipation. liberation. I want to get lost while I write, go on a journey. And when I arrive back in my chair, where it all started, I want to be able to relive the journey by reading my words. I am so stuck on being content with others writing, that I don't care to do it myself. I don't want to be content with just reading what is on everyone else's mind, and their life experiences.
It's my time. My turn. The Virgo shall speak. Brace yourselves.
The name is Rebecca. I usually go by Becca, or what I prefer B. It's short, and simple, which describes me to a T. I am short, lol, but a very simple person. I want this to be therapeutic for me actually. I write from time to time, but there is never a real purpose behind it. It comes out as a just because, or just to do. I want to really use writing as I've seen others done, a release. A redemption. emancipation. liberation. I want to get lost while I write, go on a journey. And when I arrive back in my chair, where it all started, I want to be able to relive the journey by reading my words. I am so stuck on being content with others writing, that I don't care to do it myself. I don't want to be content with just reading what is on everyone else's mind, and their life experiences.
It's my time. My turn. The Virgo shall speak. Brace yourselves.
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