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.