Fakin the Funk

Main Source featuring Neek the Exotic. Circa 1992. A fuqin classic. I can now sleep in peace. Good night.

[Large Professor]
At the age of 19, heard the scene
A lot of M.C.'s that do not come clean
Fronting on dealing hard times in rhymes
You see him in the streets and you see no signs
Of the hell, and they get on stage and tell
Some cornball war story, ring the bell (word)
You're fakin the funk
Talking that extra hard junk, you're probably a punk
And Imma let you know, that this way
You just don't cut with the artificial flow

[Neek the Exotic]
Neek the Exotic breaks backs and necks
When fakes try to front, they get smoked like blunts
My rhymes penetrate like skunk
Ayo word up, I think you're fakin' the funk

[Large Professor]
You do a song about a current event
Get on television and seem hesitant to represent
And that's what we call fraud
You can't kick the streets with a look I sold out a board (word)
And everywhere has streets
That's not trying to hear the same wack rhymes
Over the same stink beats
Cause times are real, and I can't feel
Putting...down on the reel to reel

[Neek the Exotic]
Now I'm a let you know
With those weak style of raps, it's time to go
I eject rejects that step
I'm a vet ready to snap your neck
I shine and rhyme at the same time
The mastermind of the sport called the rhyme
Now it's my time to dump chumps that front
(Ayo Professor what's up?)

[Large Professor]
The era of the wack M.C.
Is getting shut down when the Main Source stomps through your town
Cause we don't play the role of a clown
And keep things jumping with the real rap sound

So to all the people stealing beats (You're fakin the funk)
To the crossover rapper with the pleats (You're fakin the funk)
To all the chumps that's claiming the streets (You're fakin the funk)
Fronting incredible feats (You're fakin the funk)
To the girl acting like a prostitute (You're fakin the funk)
Wearing that hooker type suit (You're fakin the funk)
To the rapper with the big space suit (You're fakin the funk)
To the artist that doesn't pay dues (You're fakin the funk)

[Neek the Exotic]
Cause, exotic and then you're torn with the hyper tone
I can't be blown because my rhymes are hard like stone
So prepare for the scare, because I'm you're worst nightmare, punk
Cause you're fakin the...

Frustrated

Aside from describing my mood right now, as promised, here is the text of the poem that I wrote at Carter Park for BlackOut that Tuesday night, July 19th. The title? Frustrated. Situational irony at its finest. But then I hear Bahamadia's U Know How We Du and I'm snapped back to the reality of what life is all about - being happy and enjoying every second. Word.

Without trying to be overly complex
I find myself stranded at a crossroads
A fork in the road arose
From being too frustrated with wack-a$$ rappers who get big-time play from wack-a$$ journalists
Yet my peoples that really keep it real still have to accept muted critical acclaim

Frustrated with having too much to do on day
To being bored the next
Frustrated with too little sex
And not being able to flex...as much as I'd prefer
To not just being able to stroll the streets at night - my primetime
Similar to my prime which is a moving target 2 months away

I steadily find myself both yearning to find a way and a better tomorrow
And hoping that my little midget can enjoy life's highs ad avoid much of its sorrow
Sometimes I wish I could borrow his pain and claim it as my own
But I know that these are the breaks
Which ring most true in his own shoes
So I'll resort to making sure he keeps his eyes and his ears wide open
While I pay better attention to my words, wordplay, and how I treat women
Because I know that's the surest way
For him to avoid claiming the pain of my frustrated baby daddy complex

I Need to Get Back to Writing Reviews...

...because this dude, Scott Chitwood, is a fuqing retard. I'm sayin, son, how the hell are you going to have someone write a review that has no clue about the subject matter and furthermore, doesn't even like the music in the first place. And it's one thing to have someone reviw something to give it a different take coming from a diffrent perspective, but to actually write the moronic stuff he wrote in his review is plain stupid But hey, maybe that's just my opinion. But nontheless, somebody should get slapped twice (with gloves on) for allowing this to be released. Where's a copy editor when you need one?

Pak Thai Noodles

I have a new addition to my favorite foods menu. I also need to start telling cats to go check out the Pan Asia Restaurant on Browadway in South Boston. Very tasty. Very delicious. Mucho yummy, son.

Growth Spurts

So I get a phone call yesterday morning from Mom Dukes about how she heard from my logically-challenged sister that the midget is still sleeping in his crib. So basically, the whole point of the call was to instruct me to go out and buy a real bed for the boy ASAP. Now, you see, I'm usually one for being rather obedient when it comes to parental requests, however, in general, I have never really been a fan of doing something simply because someone else wants me to. Especially, if the quasi-request comes off as more of a demand than an inquiry or suggestion. Plus, I was still a bit crusty-eyed, so I think she caught on to the non-verbal clues (disinterest, grunts, 'no', huffing/pufing, quick hang-up) that I was emitting while we were on the phone. Hence, I got a more somber call later in the morning while downtown at the job piece.

Outcome? He's gonna stay sleeping in it until he ougrows it. I understand he's gotten bigger but he still only takes up only about 2/3 of the length of the bed. Don't get it twisted, the kid is hella big. We were out and about this past week and its strange when kids his size or smaller are running, jumping, bouncing basketballs, and speaking and enunciating syllables, while the midget simply grunts. Mind you, these other unrelated midgets are all a full 1-2 years older than this dude. For whatever reason, basketball destiny bypassed my genes. My pops is 6'5" and my midget a$$ can barely get credit for 60 inches. I guess these are the breaks. I'll just live my sports career vicariously through him.

They Say

They say you can see the future through the eyes of the little shorties.

They say "Dude think he righteous"
I write just to free minds, from Stoney to Rikers
Amongst the lifeless, in a world crazy as Mike is
On my paper, whether its weed or Isis
They say "life is a game," so I play hard
Writin for my life cause I'm scared of a day job
They say "Sef kept the hood together"
I tell the young, "We can't play the hood forever"
Play my cards right, they say I went to left
They showed me strange love, like I was Mr. F
Played chess in this game of, pawns and knights
Now I claim "King" like Don, or Frank White
They say my life is comparable to Christ's
The way I sacrificed, and resurrected, twice

"They Say"
--Common

Can't Fade Me

Yeah, I pray every day for a better life
I think it's gon' get better but it's like I'm never right

Disclaimer: I am not a Cassidy fan. However, the track, "Can't Fade Me", featuring Nas and Quan is so hot to death that I'm literally melting for it in my ear right at this very moment. Last year, Nas and Quan laced the "Just A Moment" song with some truly dope rhymes and the beat on Fade takes it to another level. I actually enjyed Cassidy's entire verse for the first time, seeing how it did appear on his album, I guess we can give him a day pass on the strength of this banger. The hook is what kills me. Very laid back and mellowed out. Some thugness, some struggle spitting, some gangsta shT, with just a dash of reality. Not too shabby...

Y'all &@&! is crazy.
Y'all &@&! can't fade me
From the bottom to the top, from the booth to the block
Anyway I got to get it, I'm givin it all I got
Y'all haters can't hold me.
And y'all don't want to zone me
So when I get, I'm gon' get it, in my life how I live it
and whips I be whippin, smokin on the exquisite

Hung

I stumbled upon a review for a new book by Scott Poulson-Bryant entitled, Hung. Yes, keep your eyebrows raised. I don't think the review does the book's subject enough justice, but it is possible that it did if the book isn't really all that int he first place. I wouldn't say it's at the top of my list right now of boks to read, but it is on the radar.

I am feeling the description though.

HUNG: A Meditation on the Measure of Black Men in America

The title's double entendre isn't just sexual, explains the author, a founding editor of Vibe and now senior editor of the quarterly America. As used here, "hung" refers both to the legendary size of the African-American man's penis and to the method used in the not-so-distant-past to lynch black men, often due to fears of miscegenation.

In other unrelated and quasi-related news, Larry Brown may be the next coach of the NY Knicks. Why am I not feeling this? Just retire already! I'm saying, son, he's a great coach and all, but can you let some other people get their shine on. He's kinda like Hubie Brown. Great coach. Gray hair. Great track record. Great. Now step aside and let the young coaches breath. It would be so sweet if they made Herb Williams the coach instead of the interim coach. Hopefully, they won't hang Herb out to dry...

More HUNG news. In reading some background information on Oakland's famed street festivals - Carijama and the Festival on the Lake - I think back to my own experiences growing up and attending large events where at times the n!gga ratio would get higher than it should have been. You know the Comic View joke about how Black people see people running and start running too. Yeah...I've seen way too much of that. We can't keep hanging ourselves. But I have experienced a lot of growth (and frustration) this year and there have been a lot of new people that have opened my eyes to a wider world view and I only hope to be able to reciprocate their generosity and share their worlds. Or maybe I'm just caught up? Hmm....

Fuq that tofu I need a pork chop on my plate

Friday was a fairly busy day that emodied the whole nature of my job. I started it off by bouncing from Downtown to West Roxbury, then to Dorchester, then to Brighton, back Downtown for a meeting at City Hall, back to the office in Roxbury for the rest of the day, then to East Boston to scoop up MikeA from the airport, then to Mattapan to link up with the li'l shorty and my sis and to visit Debi and the fam, then to the crib in Jamaica Plain to consolidate whips, then to Cambridge for dinner, the South End to drop off the love birds at the Hampton Inn, then back Downtown once again to shout out Buckshot at WERS, and finally...yes finally back to the lab to tuck the midget in. Damn...I'm tired just writing that.

Unlike last week's heatwave, the weather has been mild and exceedingly fly (nice) the last few days (save for the torrential rains that fell Friday night). I made my way down to Stamford, CT yesterday for my man KY's engagement party. It was a beautiful event with great apptizers that flowed all night and an open bar that had cats hurting before 9pm. He and Dee make a great couple and I wish them the best of success and the brightest of future happiness together. I don't feel as bad now that my engagement went down the tubes. Somebody's gotta make good on their promises. I'll stick to being happy and instead of making a living - making a life. Love, happiness, wealth, fame, fortune, and all that other stuff should follow suit as they may. I just need to get over this guilty conscience that has me on the brink of tears every night I tell the midget 'good night' and 'bye-bye' as I walk through the door and head home. I guess I'll get over it eventually. I hope.

Sometimes I rhyme slow. Sometimes I rhyme quick.

Sometimes I rhyme slow sometimes I rhyme quick
I'm sweeter and thicker than a chic-o-stick
Here's an ice cream cone honey take a lick
Or go to Bay Plaza and catch a flick
Wore my Timberland boots so I can stomp ticks
Scandalous get a wiff of this mist
Just like the Yar Boys now I'm blissed
I feel good per say good state of mind
Drive a red Sterling and the seats recline
I love it when a lady treats me kind
Go to Tavern on the Green have a glass of wine
He say, she say I heard it through the grapevine
No static, got an automatic
Too much of anything makes you an addict
Teasin, skeezin, all so pleasin
Don't ask why I got my own reasons
Smooth B Greg Nice Slick Nick click
Sometimes I rhyme slow sometimes I rhyme quick...

Chemistry

Yes, yes, y'all. I copped Chemistry the other day and it exceeded my expectations. Wow.

As the cliche goes, words cannot express the excitement with which I yelled, 'you hear this, b!tches"' out of the window of my truck as I breezed through the first three tracks from the album. 9th Wonder has truly served up a perfect sonic backdrop on which literally caught wreck - like a mutha.

I think I'm going to have to keep this in HEAVY rotation throughout this entire weekend and really let in setlle in. This album is truly hip-hop for the soul. Buck comes off in his usual unassuming and straightforward way with razor-sharp rhymes that big-play artists only wish they could emulate on the best days. This is breath control at its finest. Take a minute and read some the following articles I found online for other perspectives on this gem.

• BallerStatus
• HipHopDXaa
• Cleveland Scene
• AllHipHop

I'll save a discussion on what constitutes chemistry for another date. But the album has some pretty good descriptions as well.

God's trying to tell you something

After hitting up Bob's Southern Bistro for some good food, we strolled around the corner to find a large group of people waiting to get into the Piano Factory for last night's BlackOut performance. If you don't know about BlackOut Boston, it is part of a larger organization called the Blackout Arts Collective. They've been doing the damn thing for a while now and I have attended and participated in the past. Well somehow, there ended up being a room scheduling mix-up, but my girl Nuri took it in stride and we got real grass-roots with it and took the fifty-plus people with us as we walked two blacks down the street to Carter Park.

Well, let's just say that things have a way of working out as they do for a reason. The vibe was great. They crowd was feeling the setting. And drew an even more diverse crowd of ball players, old-school tennis cats, random joggers, tired students, and disgruntled street lurkers (and loud and obnoxious at that!). So anyways, as usual, I neglected to come prepared. I just planned on attending and enjoying the vibes, but of course Nuri coerced me into jacking her moms for a pen and I ended up scribbling some words down on my stack of blue post-it notes. It was a good thing I did, because one of my favorite performers and good friend, Big Brother Sadi, came through and you know how Sadi gets down! So I did my little piece to a decent reception and Sadi blazed the (non-existent mic) as usual. Plus, I finally got to see my homegirl Toya for the first time in a few months and I learn for the first time that another friend, NancyC, is a big-time Boot Camp Clik junkie. We've eloped just before midnight! (let it marinate). So maybe I'll find some time to type up what I wrote as I leaned against the fence sometime this weekend and share it with you all. It sure did feel good to get a response from the crowd though...

Welcome Back

Let's celebrate!

Delta flight # 630 is delayed

Oh...the agony! Imagine going a big-time job interview and there are butterflies in your stomach and your palms are all sweaty and sticky and you throat is dry. Just plain fuqing nervous like a mutha. Geesh. I'm sayin, son, could the midget get here already!! I think I may have to take the L and acatually park at the airport and go inside to meet them. And I love my sister and all, but man, that chick is slow, son. What was the first thing out of her mouth this morning when I called? Yup, you guessed it, "You taking us out to eat, right?" And no, it was not in the form of a real, non-rhetorical question. I quoted her verbatim, B.

I've seen your kind before, you're not original

Lord Jamar spit that line on Brand Nubian's seminal jam, "Slow Down." I quoted it here because in the same vein that cats say 'game recognize game,' I realize I've been delinquent in keeping in touch with some close peoples who I usually link up with every now and then.

Just a sick, mixed-up individual

Gotta stay true to the true fam. So my action items this week are to holla at LeroneJ, FrancisO, VDavis, LavarM, TriaG, JoeB, AntBarks, CalvinM, and RonF. And for the last time, if I go one more day without copping Chemistry, please consider this my last will and testament. Buckshot will probably never get his just due, but I just heard another track off that album, and it is literally mind-blowing. Hip-hop music for the soul. Original. Simple. Beautiful. Timeless.

T-Minus 48 Hours

I'm kind of nervous that the li'l light-skinned midget may not even remember my face when he comes back on Tuesday. His arrival is 2 days away and as little emotion as I like to exude - dude, i am LIKE, soooooo stoked - to see this dude. I guess I did miss him. I really do hope he still recognizes my face or voice. And I will not be surprised whatsoever, if he is 3 feet tall with a deep voice talking in complete sentences. My fam is thorough like that. That ending scene from The Color Purple keeps flashing in my head. Hopefully, he says more than dude did.

In other news, I don't think I'm going to make it to the Lizard Lounge tonight. I haven't really written anything new in a minute (slang for long time). I realized that as much fun and free time that I've had the last 2 months, I cold have been a bit more prudent and productive with my extracurricular activities. I cannot even find my PMP study guide and my bedroom is in shambles. I need to just go play some ball and come back to the crib and do some work to prepare for the coming week.

You have to come to the people as they are

Had some interesting conversations the last 2 days that really put a lot of things in perspectice.

For starters, much props to Horace Small of the Union of Minority Neighborhoods for hosting us at his crib Friday night. My duns Tobin, LSoove, and I got the email forward and decided to hit up what had been billed as a Black Men's Cookout. What it turned out being was initially not quite what I had expected, but it quickly became apparent that is so much more. Much like the talks and mind thoughts amongst my scattered network of crew and peoples, this small gathering was part of an effort to not just foster a sense of unity amongst Black men, but add more tangible value to an otherwise dispersed, distance, and fragmented disconnect between varying ages and socioenonomic status. I've got to give Horace his props for blindly allowing us to come through, eat his food, and politik with him and his buddies - Smokey Montgomery, Woullard Lett, Chuck Turner, and Charles Yancey. I really appreciate the effort on their part to be willing to mentor younger like us and sit down without frills and build on issues that affect our community and society as a whole - youth violence, temperamental politics, and leadership development. I'm definitely going to have to stay in touch with that crew. I think that activist itch that my man Kwadjo pricked is starting to expand. Apparently, he's going through some serious stuff right now - as always. Somobody better step up and take the weight and not make me have to move back home and stir shT up.

On the 41st side, I got an email from my main man ALow of an interview with Saigon by Cedric Muhammed of BlackElectorate.com. Now, me and Sai already go a ways back, because he's ill like that. But I'm really feeling how he shares a lof of inspiring and insightful articles with the crew. I'm glad we're on the same team. He's a serious street scholar - I only aspire to read as much, as frequently, and with as much insight as he does. Well anyways, Saigon spit some real words talking about his music, his bid, and his game plan. He's definnitely an artist with something to say and I'm proud to say I bought one of his albums. and I'll keep being a fan as long as he keeps coming with the real. For a point of reference, peep his track, The Color Purple, which stirred a little bit of controversy - but didn't get nearly as much critical acclaim as it should have. Kinda reminds me of what Phife Dawg said back in the day.

Let me take this time to say R.I.P. to Phyllis Hyman
Who never got the props that she damn well deserved

And lastly, speaking of props, Wyclef is one soulful dude. I caught an episiode (#34) of Def Poetry Jam last night and it was incredible. First of all, it seemed as though there were about ten performers, which is amazing, because it always seems as if every episdoe is shorter than the next and only 4 poets get featured. It was a great show, with Wyclef kicking it off with a piece called, The Immigrant. He used that high-pitched, ever-so-indicative of Haitian descent accent in a way that was both humorous and introspective. I can remember when I first heard his first album and thinking how souldful and forward-moving the music and content was in those songs. He lost me a bit over the years, but it was a beautiful thing to see him on that stage. I seriously need to get back to my spoken word days. Hell, I almost bought a Saul Williams album last night and my girl Iyeoka is having a performance this Monday night in Providence with Ursula Rucker. If the name isn't too familiar, just think back to some of the Roots albums. I may have to hit up either that show on monday or the Lizard Lounge on Sunday.

Got on the flight and I ended up in Boston

Phife Dawg. He penned that line, which was preceeded by, "Now everybody knows I got to Georgia often" on Midnight Marauders' Problems. It was song full on random things and thoughts that happen to everyday people from around the way. And it's not like my life is full of problems right now or anything like that. It's just more of a reflection on how much life can change in a short span of time. It makes me think of that other chain email that goes around counterbalancing the value of different spans of time with scenarios when they would matter than anything else. At time, it can see as if though is moving so slow that no's hope in sight. And then conversely, life can be moving so fast that there's no hope in sight. Deja vu? Oh well, I think I'm going to the same game-plan that I've had all along. Live life to its fullest, take calculated risks, and be easy. The chips will fall as they may. And if I don't like it - then F it - I'll get mine, B.

"That's how the ball bounces, the cookie crumbles"
-Mobb Deep

Another long week is coming to an end. My first full month at the TCG helm has also come and gone. I'm no longer a rookie/virgin on the scene. It's time to make good on all the hype surrounding my arrival and rep for Chucktown, duke. I've made a lot of good contacts already and I have yet to meet all of our stakeholders, clients, partners, and students. Yes, there are a whole bunch of the shorties that I've yet to meet. It's been a month of meetings and greetings, surprises, change, shock, bewilderment, fun, and fire-fighting. Now is the time to take all that I've learned over the last five weeks and turn this mutha out. Say Word.

Elevation (Free My Mind)

The B.U.M.S. (Brothas Unda Madness) were a group from the Bay area that came out with a pretty tight album (Life'N'Tyme) about a decade ago. The top track off of that LP was Elevation (Free My Mind) , a free-spirited crtitique of hip-hop integrity.

From sand docks to auction blocks to R&B from hip-hop, how many rappers flip-flop to get props? Signed the dotted line but didn't read through the costs (When your album sits on the desk) "That's when ya lost!"

Great emcess never seem to get their just due. Even in South Carolina, it was obvious what was up. So here's two cheers for Evocalist and D-Wyze. Hope they're still holding it down for the real hip-hop wherever their paths may have led them.

On a mission from God, to make the concious souls nod
when I'm rhymin, I take tracks of coal and then
compress em to a diamond, I'm in the mindstate
to escalate, when all rappers participate
it's fate for rap to elevate.

And Nightime is More Trife Than Ever

Nas' One Love should go down as one of the dopest tracks ever. It takes me back to a time and place that consisted of turmoil, trials, tribulation, joy, pain, hardship, luck, love, strife, and success. I can't even remember if I've made mention of how I used to claim that hip-hop raised me. Nights were equally scary in certain neighborhoods, but just being able to walk with shoulders back was enough for me to get through just about anything. This isn't to say there wasn't plenty of danger out there. But nowadays, it seems as though the daytime is just a treacherous. I don't even like taking public transportation, but found myself on the T today and ended up running into old friend on both journeys, both times commenting on how random the London blasts were.

When we start the revolution all they probably do is squeal

One Love puts me in a trance when I hear it. Q-Tip laced the original version with the dumb fly xylophone samples, and Large Professor's remix is even more ridiculous with the fading horns. It's frustrating reading stuff already in print and circulaton in your know inyour heart and gut that are plenty of people around the WORLD who feel just like you and all of you simultaneously said, 'ayo, this shT is garbage' when you read the erronesous list of the top 10 hip-hop artists of all-time or the forum on ideas on how to improve Downtown Crossing (DTC). I even had to add my 2 cents to the DTC posts. It's amazing how people can start generalizing and making stereopypes. Too many cyber-thugs out there hell-bent on excoriating and exterminating the 50 Cent mentality, yet they're hanging over their keyboards poppin the same 'ol shT. Doesn't the saying go, 'don't talk the talk if you can't walk the walk'? While I agree that the teenager issue is a serious concern and even empathize for some of the people that feel intimidated by some of the decidely 'hood kids that do hang out down there, it still doesn't allow for the granting of free passes to people to start running at the mouth like this is the pre-Civil Rights Era. Do they not know that I'm a computer geek? If I want to find you - I will find you.

Shorty's laugh was cold blooded as he spoke so foul
Only twelve trying to tell me that he liked my style

I won't even get into work-related topics today. Seasons change and the more things change, the more they stay the same. Had some odd occurences in addition to a couple of epiphanies, but those are quite secondary in my mind right no. It was a busy day and will continue to be a busy week, but I think I'll have enough hours committed so that I can just chill on Friday..hopefully. Although I have no benefits whatsoever, this contractor steelo does have its quirks and perks.

Activism is a Strange Fruit

It's been a while since I've last logged onto BlackPlanet. I bring thi up because my BP screename is "activist." Activism is a term I customarily consider to mean going against the gran or tranditions for something in which you believe is justified. A recent article in the NY Times, So Who Are the Activists?, took an different route to assess the activism of the Supreme Court and its findings, while probably unnerving, make sense given the methodology and the 'common sense' required to reach sucha conclusion.

On the other activist front, I am appreciative of the media coverage for yesterday's Peace Walk by both all three of the local daily papers; Herald, Globe, and Metro. But there were more than just Cape Verdeans there. It ain't an isolated situation at all. Next step, we need to get my man Big Shug to stop referring to Mattapan as MurderPan. And even before that, how about the teenager on the bike that rolled up with some G-Unit shorts on; with glocks stitiched all over the place. Or how about this cat from the Globe article, "One man wore a black T-shirt with a blue Welcome to Dorchester sign on the front. Scrawled on the sign were the words ''Welcome to The Hood . . . No snitching." Silly muthafuqas...man i tell ya...an endless muthafuqing cycle.

But conscious rap they don't respect it

That line was from a dope KRS verse a few years ago when he really ripped the entire track. Just read an interview with Shyheim and he had some really poignant things to say about hip-hop and life in general.

I got my times where I talk about street s**t, but then I flip and say but these are the consequences if you go this route. But what I noticed that when I’m not rhyming about the reality of the streets as far as consequences that follow the negative actions, no one wants to hear it, but if I come out talking about, yeah nigga I’ll stab you in the face, it’s acceptable.

Some really insightful stuff from this fella who almost went the way of Gary Coleman and all those other teen stars that lost their way. Hoepfully, he can bring things back to reality and make good on his original potential.

Clockers

I never really had a chance to really sit down and truly enjoy that Spike Lee joint. Clockers introduced the world to Mekhi Pheifer, but even more importantly, shed light on the callous tendencies of the concrete jungle to bring both joy and pain. 'so Many Tears' could be the title of this partiular post. I attended the annual Walk for Peace today, partly organized by the Louis Brown Peace Institute among other groups.

I am really glad that my man ALOw was able to come through, and in a way, so was he, because he and his boys from high school all lost a close friend (RIP Jaison 'Belly-J' Jenkins) last year to senseless violence. But nostalgia can leave you feeling pretty weird when it's not necessarily good thoughts that you are reflecting upon. Being there in Upham's Corner today and seeing all of the buttons of young lives lost took me all the way back to a place and time that i will never forget; January 7, 1994. I will always be a resident of Durant Avenue no matter where I go in life (ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever). If I ever evolve and 'make it,' like BIG said, 'from ashy to classy,' I gotta always rep for the poor, underprivileged, unexposed, hungry masses of people on Section 8, EBT cards, SSI, and low-incomes that are the pulse and lifeblood of communities oft-ignored, forgotten, or gentrified.

Bloggers learn price of telling too much

Here's a nice scare-tactic blog-related article about the perils or posting too much personal information on one's blog. It made me think back to a NSBE buddy of mine from the D who sent me an email venting because I had restricted the ability to post comments on this blog for only Blogger-registered users. I've since done away with that restriction, but still get wary of the anonymous comment posters out there that will inevitably surface. I figure I'll just delete 'em. Anyways, I'm still not sure if my 'verse-of-the-day' route is making much headway. And at the same time, I grapple with the idea that those litle short and scattered posts are just not my steelo. So maybe it's time for a new game plan. We'll see. The PEACE WALK is in a few hours so I need to get some shut-eye. I really do hope and pray that nothing pops off tomorrow. If so, it will be inetersting to see what gets highligted more in the local media.

But IF I were to stck with the wordplay, then I'd definitely have to shout out Fox Boogie's "Candy."

Now we can role play, you be the pilot
I'll be the stewardess boy I ain't knew to this
When I lay on my stomach and throw my legs back
Y'all probably won't know how to act

Situational Irony

A look in the mirror for America is a thoughtful op-ed piece by Boston Globe columnist Derrick Jackson that ever so eloquently shines light on the inherent irony and regret evidenced in the stark contrast of innocent victims and the implications or war and terrorism. Say word.

Making Me look bad

Police find alligator in S.C. apartment

Hip-Hop Across the Globe

SPIN.com: Various Artists Live From Iraq (4th25 Entertainment)

Hip-Hop in Vietnam

Black August - I NEED to go this year. Young hustle...holla.

Sizzla, Homophobia, and Free Speech - is TOK next?

Don't Expect Much From VH1

VH1 And It Stopped, finally is a great blog on the 4-part VH1 documentary, And It don't Stop, that chronicled hip-hop last fall. I didn't get to see the entire show, but what I saw brought the same thoughts too mind. just reading this cat's post makes me wanna go and find my DITC album and reminisce.

What it takes to be a bona fide `full-grown' man

Some recent wordsby Barack Obama. Good food for thought. I might have to share this one and critique it later.

Humility

Be Easy.
Be Happy.
Be Humble.

I think I just found my new motto. Had a decent day and a chill evening at the 33 Restaurant and Lounge maxin' and relaxin' with the crew. I also got to catch up with my homegirl April who moved back to the area recently. Something that she said caught my ear though. We spoke about a lot of things, among them Boston's social scene, life in general, and why LSmoove would not be successful with any women from Nashville. But the real highlight came when she mentioned that she was more focused in her life and came back with a specific plan in mind. Originally, she was here looking to do one thing and found that it was not quite what she expecetd. Then, when she ended up on the left coast and and she resorted to being focused on making career moves, the atmosphere flipped the script on her. So now she's back in Mass with a renewed purpose; intent on being happy, fostering that career, and letting some people fall by the wayside. It's not like I plan on dropping any friends anytime soon, but I felt what she was saying. It's kind of like that chain e-mail that goes around about being either being positive influences in your life (adding & multiplying) or negative ones (subtracting and dividing). I always like to claim that I'm still the same 'ol crazy Eric who laughed like a hyena and used to have hoop dreams up through 9th grade.
But I bet there's sure to be someone who disagrees. But you know, I got my goals; just like I wrote in my high school yearbook - Never Ignorant Getting Goals Accomplished.

Been like that since back in the day

Black Moon had a track on Eclipse ith a SICK horn called, "Why We Act This Way." That song can literally put you in a trance.

If you see me and I don't give you dap
Don't worry I coulda been in a hurry or I might not like you
See I change like Michael but I don't mean skintone
Did a lot of traveling and been home

I've seen your kind before you're not original

That line came to mind because I peeped an episode of OZ last night in which Lord Jamar appeared. For the ignorant, LJ of BRan Nubian. If you're still clueless, keep it moving. So anyways....why was there a hurricane today in Boston. I literally got so wet in 10 seconds that it made all of the collective sweating I did the previous three days seem completely irrelevant to life itself. You'd have thought someone flushed on us.

Now back to some Lord jamar gems:

Even Monty Hall can have himself a ball if his assets are in order

What's really scary is you're somebody's daughter

You thought you had a sweet vic, a nice pick,
but you didn't anticipate that I might be sick.

Then you're gonna taste blood in your mouth, it's gonna flood south
to the ground, and you're gonna know I don't fcuk around.

Lord Jamar will live long, cuz I give strong blows the heads of my foes.
Dread flows, gives me power as it grows.
Watch how rass-clot or you'll catch the speed knot,
heed not, and hell will be your home,
Lord Jamar, Sadat, as we swell your dome.

Let us rewind to a time we was right and just
Nowadays we just fight and bust

Word is bond and bond is life

Just Do You

Apparently, the United Church of Christ, a national religious organization, has passed a resolution in favor of gay marriage. Ok, no show-stopper here. Now can we just keep it moving. More fuss than necessary.

And to reiterate, I love Black people. But the niggas need to go, son. Two more shootings last night in Dorchester; one of them at a family cookout. July is here. We gotta do something else to get the gats off the street. Just because you're grown doesn't mean you are truly a grown-a$$ man.

Suspended in Time

Nowhere near simple
My mental, flex more complex than mozarts instrumental

I saw the Group Home's video for "Supa Star" last night for the first time ever! Wow. So captivating. Most people would probably be like, 'yo, son, that video was garbage and the song was forgettable.' Obviously, that's a MFer that'd get dropped quick. Livin Proof was truly a hip-hop classic that probably will never get its just due just like many other quality albums that fade from collective memories with each passing year and reincarnation of the prime-time gangsta/hustla/prima-donna with weak-ass rhymes and a heft marketing budget. Fake A$$ Gansters...

Feared by bandits
Hated by chicks
Loved by kids
And I never did a bid

Short and sweet trash talk that speaks volumes when paid due attention.

Among the many shoot-the shT discussions that came up today; a friend posed the question of what would you be doing if you were not a(n) ?? So, I said, 'outreach worker,' which apparently wasn't up to snuff because I got told that I'm already kinda doing that. So I brought that up with not much of a plot in mind except that I was humbled that someone thought of me that way, yet I don't see myself doing nearly as much as others are doing. Chilling and listening to Mariama last week left me in awe at the amount of heart that she pours into her work daily. I only aspire to have as much impact as her and others truly on the grind working to make things better around the way for the shorties. Don't talk the talk if you can't walk the walk. Word...life.

It ain't hard to tell

Wisdom be leakin out my grapefruit troop
I dominate break loops, givin mics men-e-straul cycles
Street's disciple, I rock beats that's mega trifle
And groovy but smoother than moves by Villanova
You're still a soldier, I'm like Sly Stone in Cobra
Packin like a rasta in the weed spot
Vocals'll squeeze glocks, MC's eavesdrop
Though they need not to sneak
My poetry's deep, I never fell
Nas's raps should be locked in a cell

self-explanatory....word up.

I'm gettin' looser than a crackheads hair weave

Could it be I've stayed away too long
Seems MC's be wishing I was gone
Because they wanna be where I are
But ya can't get that far
So stop wishing on a star
Its only one Grand P
So honey do what you did on the night you creeped with me
Its no doubt I come real with that
The butter track
The one that makes the honeis hit the bed mat
Im energetic, poetic, athletic, with good credit
So just move like I'm simon and I said it

"I Like It"
-Grand Puba

Worn out

Just finished about 2-3 hours of b-ball at the Fens. It was way too beautiful outside to be holded up indoors. So now I can hop in the shower at hit up the nightime soiree. But I can't explin why I have not really eaten anythign today aside from some cheddar Triscuits. I need some chicken...ASAP! Plus, i need to call SC. Maybe the li'l homie will speak to me today. Either way, I was supposed to call MOMS back from Friday night. Uh oh....It's odd how even when I initially start writing and try to think of something slick and witty, it's just some plain 'ol boring shT. Oh well. Tomorrow shoudl be a nice day and maybe I get my place cleaned up real nice and presentable, and maybe get a little work done while I'm at it. We'll see about that. Plus, I need to find out about the funeral arrangements for Kareem.

But I'm mad I missed this

THoward is one of my favorite actors. That performance will last him a lifetime. I am sooo jealous right now it isn't even funny.

I miss the li'l shorty

Black-on-black crime was way before our time

I miss Stetsasonic. MC Delight appeared on the "Self Destruction" track along with a host of other rap vets. That was then.

Took a brother's life with a knife as his wife

This is now. That was when I recited the words; syllable by syllable and was able to grasp both the complexity of what they were saying and the urgency in which the song was even made.

It's time to stand together in a unity
Cause if not then we're soon to be
Self-destroyed, unemployed
The rap race will be lost without a trace
Or a clue but what to do
Is stop the violence and kick the science
Down the road that we call eternity
Where knowledge is formed and you'll learn to be
Self-sufficient, independent
To teach to each is what rap intended
But society wants to invade
So do not walk this path they laid.

D-Nice dropped the above verse and it is great to see him blogging nowadays. I'm not even sure I had made the link before, so I'll do it again. It appears that egos are to blame for there not being another cut like it recently, save the posse cut about police brutality a few years ago (One Four Love, Hip-Hop For Respect). Strange how it never gets brought up. Maybe something Project Hip-Hop can help spur along with other orgs? Hmm....

"I never ever ran from the Ku Klux Klan

and I shouldn't have to run from a black man"
-Kool Moe Dee