Dr. Noo Bes

[nonoviobes]

Archaeology of Light - VR180 I’m chillin’

[nonoviobes]

Tainted meat.

Antisocial behavior is contagious. I got bit awhile ago.

[sakura-haruka]

@andyandnormski: Rick taking a polaroid picture of Negan cowering behind the ruined cars with an injured leg is my new aesthetic for the rest of 2017.

[andyandnormski]

Rick taking a polaroid picture of Negan cowering behind the ruined cars with an injured leg is my new aesthetic for the rest of 2017.

[nonoviobes]

[kushandwizdom]

Grown 💛

[iamlocd]

[blacknaturals]

♕  @dreadedbeauty_

[knowledgeequalsblackpower]

Racist rant gets tennis player disqualified mid-match

“I know that you are friends. I am sure about it.”

See, this is why some Black people feel the need to avoid other Black people in white spaces… smh. It’s a zillion white people everywhere at all stages of the game/his career in control of what happens, but the 1 black player and 1 black umpire on the court are in cohoots… 

[nonoviobes]

Visit Original Link

Classic!!!!!!!!

[cecileemeke]

Support the #StrollingSeries (See full discussion HERE)

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[racismstillexists]

Representations of Black People in Film

One day in 1967, Audre Lorde, a Black woman who was a noted poet, writer and activist, was out shopping at the supermarket.  Her two-year old daughter was along for the ride in the shopping cart, like many other children with their parents.  A young White girl in her mother’s shopping cart passed Lorde and her daughter and when she saw Lorde’s daughter, she called out, “Oh look, Mommy, a baby maid!” [1]

The idea that Black women are maids was so strong that even for this very young child, that is the first thought she has about a Black girl.  Because this incident took place in 1967, it is easy to think that those kinds of ideas were common then, but wouldn’t be heard today.  In fact, portrayals of Black women as servants and maids continue to be widespread, particularly in film and television. 

Octavia Spencer at the 84th Academy Awards

When Octavia Spencer won the Academy Award for Best Actress in a Supporting Role in 2011 for her portrayal of Minny Jackson in The Help, she became the sixth African-American woman to win an Oscar.  While Spencer’s acting may have been excellent, the troubling fact remains that of all the roles Black women have played, in many movies, for many decades, this is the role that the Academy Award decided to reward with an Oscar. A role where Spencer plays a maid.  The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, which is responsible for deciding who will win the awards, is mostly men, and 90% White. [2]  Patricia Hill Collins argues that “because the authority to define societal values is a major instrument of power, elite groups, in exercising power, manipulate ideas about Black womanhood.  They do so by exploiting already existing symbols, or creating new ones.“ [1]  The idea about Black womanhood that is exploited here is the notion of Black women being servants or mammies. 

More than 350 Whites have been nominated for Best Actor and Actress compared to just 21 of Blacks.  Even Babe the Pig was nominated before Denzel Washington, demonstrating that the achievements of Black actors largely remain invisible within the academy and are often not taken seriously. [3]  Even fewer Black actors have actually won awards.  In recent years, Black women that have won Oscars include Whoopi Goldberg, Halle Berry, Jennifer Hudson, and Mo’Nique.

Whoppi Goldberg as Oda Mae Brown in Ghost (1990)

Halle Berry as Leticia Musgrove in Monster’s Ball (2001)

Jennifer Hudson as Effie White in Dreamgirls (2006)

Mo'Nique as Mary Lee Johnston in Precious: Based on the Novel "Push” by Sapphire (2009)

As shown in the table below, only six Black women have received Oscars for acting. 

The first was Hattie McDaniel.

Hattie McDaniel (1941)

She was not only the first Black woman, but the first African American ever, to win an Academy Award.  In 1939, she won for playing the character “Mammy”, in the pre-Civil War movie Gone With the Wind. The film, and the book upon which it is based, unapologetically evoke nostalgia for the “Old South”.  Celebrated are Black people as slaves, and White landowners enjoying an affluent and cultured lifestyle from the riches provided by slave labor. In the film, Mammy is an enslaved woman who works in the O’Hara family’s house.  One of her primary responsibilities is taking care of the O’Hara girls, especially Scarlett.  In the book, the first time Mammy is introduced, the text reads:  “Scarlett heard Mammy’s lumbering tread shaking the floor of the hall…Mammy felt that she owned the O’Haras, body and soul, and their secrets were her secrets…Mammy emerged from the hall, a huge old woman with the small shrewd eyes of an elephant.  She was shining black, pure African, devoted to her last drop of blood to the O’Haras…"  [4]  This imagery of black women as mammies—overweight, obedient servants who love, nurture, and are loyal to White superiors—is common in American society.  It is one of the controlling images that shapes the public face that Whites expect from Black women today. [1]  Between 1890 and 1920, mammies appeared in books, magazines, and films, on restaurant menus and cookbooks, and as the shape for a variety of products like salt shakers and cookie jars. [5]  Stories of mammies as loyal protectors of White children were important in Southern childhood, and a lot of attention was paid to their bodies, such as descriptions of large breasts and fat bodies being a source of comfort and support. [5]

Again, these kinds of ideas are not just relics from the past.  It is important that McDaniel won an Oscar for playing Mammy in 1939, and 73 years later, Spencer won for playing Minny.  Not much has changed.  Hollywood is still happiest to see Black women as servants.  As Ralph Ellison once noted, “Movies are not about Blacks but what Whites think about Blacks.“ [6]  It is also important that the context for Black women’s roles as domestic workers is never discussed; Black women simply appear on the big screen as servants, suggesting that is their natural station in life.  The Help takes place in the 1960s, when occupations were segregated along race and gender lines, making domestic work one of the few wage-earning positions that Black women had available to them.  Black women in both the North and the South worked in the homes of Whites, often enduring sexual harassment, disrespect, exploitation and many affronts to their dignity—just to earn a living and support their families.   Although the film purports to tell the stories of resistance amongst a group of maids protesting their poor social and working conditions, this is only possible through the hands of a White, college-educated woman.  In this way, The Help undermines the agency of Black women to affect positive change within their own lives.  And, the book on which the movie is based, was written by Kathryn Stockett, who is a White woman.  Some have questioned whether she is capable of accurately portraying the experiences of Black domestic workers and African-Americans in general.  The Association of Black Women Historians have pointed to the use of exaggerated Black southern dialect (“You is smat, you is kind, you is important”) and depictions of Black men as drunks, domestic abusers, or all together absent. [7]  They argue that this is evidence that White writers often rely upon stereotypes when creating Black characters. [8]  Other stereotypes are evident in the film’s dialogue.  At one point, as Minny instructs a White woman in cooking, she states, “Frying chicken just…tend to make you feel better ‘bout life.  Hm, I love me some fried chicken.”

Black actors face a difficult quandary in the face of such stereotypical portrayals.  Either they can work in roles that demean Black people, or they may not work at all.  Also, they often do not benefit when they take these difficult roles.  In the special feature “Gone With the Wind:  The Legend Lives On” (available on the special features disc for the movie DVD), Butterfly McQueen, one of the Black women who acted in the film, hated her role.  She did not think that in 1938 she would be playing a slave, and she stated that it was a difficult part for an intelligent person to play.  But, she “did everything they asked me to.  But I wouldn’t let them slap me and I wouldn’t eat the watermelon.”  Apparently, Hattie McDaniel was more cautious, and warned McQueen that she would not enjoy future roles in Hollywood if she “complained too much”.  And yet, McDaniel was not able to “cash in” on her role as Mammy.  First, MGM stipulated that she would be released from her contract if she lost weight.  Second, despite the prestige associated with winning an Oscar and the greater prospects in terms of the number and types of roles offered to actors, McDaniel was unable to benefit from this accolade.  Her roles became less challenging and the amount of films she appeared in declined compared to other White Academy Award winners. Third, her status as a star was not enough to shield her from experiencing racism when White property owners attempted to evict her from her mansion in the West Adams Country Club neighborhood using then legal restrictive covenants that prevented Blacks from living in White neighborhoods. [6] 

Although space does not permit a full discussion of the many other stereotypes of Black women, it is worth briefly noting just a few here.  While the mammy is a non-sexual, non-threatening Black woman, the Jezebel is the exact opposite.  This stereotype depicts Black women as promiscuous, over-sexualized temptresses.  They are also threats to White women and White women’s relationships.  Halle Berry’s role in Monster’s Ball, for which she won the Academy Award for Best Actress, is a manifestation of the Jezebel stereotype. Further, hyper-sexualized images of Black women appear frequently in music videos, where their bodies appear as mere accessories in a landscape that is dominated by masculinity.  The Jezebel stereotype imagines Black women as naturally sexually promiscuous and makes Black women’s sexuality deviant.  Another stereotype is the Sapphire, or more widely known today as "the Angry Black Woman”.  The name comes from a character on the radio minstrel show Amos ‘n Andy. Sapphire Stevens constantly berated her husband, George “Kingfish” Stevens. Women in these roles are “sassy”, rude and insulting, arrogant, and denigrating to Black men. These characters are “tart-tongued and emasculating, one hand on a hip and the other pointing and jabbing (or arms akimbo), violently and rhythmically rocking her head.“ [9]  Characters in past television shows that employ these types of behaviors range from Aunt Esther on Sanford and Son, Pam and Sheneneh on Martin, Florence on The Jeffersons, and Maxine on Living Single.  More recent examples are evident on shows such as Basketball Wives and Flavor of Love. 

LaWanda Page as "Aunt Esther” in Sanford and Son

Martin Lawrence as Sheneneh Jenkins

And, although we focus our discussion on Black women, Black men have also been stereotyped as servants in film, television and radio.  Donald Bogle argues that “No other period in motion-picture history could boast of more black faces carrying mops and pails or lifting pots and pans than the Depression years.“ [10]  These faces included characters/actors such as Stepin Fetchit, Sleep n’Eat, Mantan, and Bill “Bonjangles” Robinson.  Black men are also perniciously stereotyped as clowns and buffoons, brutes, criminals, and violent animals.  In Hollywood Shuffle, Robert Townsend parodies this treatment by the film establishment:

Taken together, what is the impact of these kinds of images and portrayals in film, TV, and other media?  Stereotypes in film demonstrate how forms of systemic racism permeate our society.  Today, American popular culture continues to reduce Black people and culture to a singular stereotype of deficiency and deviance.  Common imagery projects Black people as contentedly subservient at best, or “loathsome and ridiculous” at worst. [11]  In 1999, sociologist Darnell Hunt wrote The African American Television Report (sponsored by the Screen Actors Guild). [12,13,14]  The study examined 384 episodes of 87 primetime series on ABC, CBS, NBC, FOX, UPN and WB (now defunct).  The study found major disparities based on type of show, network, and day of airing.  More than half of all African-American characters appeared on situation comedies (compared to less than a third of all White characters); were heavily concentrated on UPN and WB; and appeared mostly on two nights of the week (Monday and Friday).  Further, most of the Black characters who appear only have minor roles that are usually irrelevant to the plot. [14]  Overall, Hollywood fails to portray the richness, diversity and complexity of African American lives, sticking to a very narrow and stereotypical set of images.  As Cornell West admonishes: “With all the richness in black life right now the only thing Hollywood gives us is black pathology”. [15]

Stereotypes are problematic not simply because they are false, but because they often stand in for real knowledge and actual life experience.  When stereotypes are highly visible and persistently exposed in the media, they tend to be adopted by individuals who do not come into contact with African Americans frequently.  High levels of residential segregation in the United States means that many Whites and others do not have day to day contact with Black people.  As a result, negative images in the media become associated with Black folks, regardless of evidence to the contrary.  Further, as Professor Mark Anthony Neal from Duke University states, stereotypes are used to “keep black people in their place by reinforcing the notion of their inferiority”. [16]

Cover of DVD for the first season of The Cosby Show

Apart from the ground-breaking program The Cosby Show, according to Dr. Vishette Merritt, chair of the Radio, Television, and Film Department at Howard University’s School of Communications, “the mindset in Hollywood is that positive images of blacks on the big screen don’t sell”. [3]  Thomas Carter, a television and film director remarks: “What we don’t see is black working people.  Most black people go to work every day.  Most black people are not on welfare.  Where are those people?  Most black people are trying to keep their families together.  Where are those people?” [17]  And of course, for those African American individuals or families who are struggling to make ends meet with public assistance, are out of work, or dealing with prison and the criminal justice system, television and film does not address why this is so.  Discrimination in hiring, law enforcement and criminal justice, education, and housing plays a major role in poverty, unemployment and other outcomes. [18,19,20,21]  Broad changes in the country’s economy and labor structure are also critical.  But images of both fictional and real African-Americans contribute to widespread belief in the “culture of poverty” argument that explains life circumstances on individual characteristics such as laziness (another common Black stereotype).

Racism in the industry has led to very few African Americans off-screen in both elite and creative positions.  Black directors only make up four percent of the Directors Guild of America [22] and of the 839 writers employed on prime-time television dramas and comedies, only 6.6% were black, with 44 out of the 55 employed at UPN or WB. [23]  As a result, it is quite common for Whites in creative departments to work on shows targeted to African-Americans.  Herein lies a partial explanation for the pervasiveness of stereotypes applied to African-Americans.  As one Black writer recounts, “The white writers will ask, ‘How would you say I’m walking down the hallway, you know, kind of urban?’  Now I’m put on the spot to make this show hip, and happening, and black, when what I would say is, ‘I’m walking down the hallway.’" [23]  And, the absence of Blacks employed in top-level positions means they are not at the table when negative portrayals of African-Americans are arguably green-lighted. [24]  These executives are more concerned with the bottom line rather than achieving equity (Black life on TV realism or stereotypes). [17].  In the words of Oscar Micheaux, the first African-American to make his own full-length feature film in 1919, “Unless we tell our own stories, we will never win.“ [3]

References:

[1] Hill Collins, P.  (2000).  Black Feminist Thought:  Knowledge, Consciousness, and the Politics of Empowerment.  (2nd Ed.).  NY: Routledge.

[2] Grosz, C.  (2012, May 21).  Diversity can drive biz.  Variety, 427(2), pp. 1, 10.

[3] Bennefield, R.M.  (1998, January).  1998 Image Awards: NAACP celebrates the positive as blacks seek power in Hollywood.  The New Crisis, 104(3), 31-33.  

[4] Mitchell, M.  (1936, 2011).  Gone With the Wind.  NY:  Scribner.

[5] Hale, G.E.  (1998).  Making Whiteness:  The Culture of Segregation in the South, 1890-1940.  NY:  Random House.

[6] Simmonds, Y.J.  (2012, March 1).  Black women and the Academy Awards winners and nominees.  Sentinel, 78(9), p. A8. 

[7] Association of Black Women Historians.  (n.d.).  An open statement to the fans of The Help. 

[8] Turner, P.A.  (2011, August 29).  Dangerous White stereotypes.  New York Times, p. A23. 

[9] Jim Crow Museum of Racist Memorabilia.  (n.d.).  Sapphire caricature.  Retrieved from: http://www.ferris.edu/htmls/news/jimcrow/sapphire/

[10] Bogle, D. (2000). Toms, Coons, Mulattoes, Mammies & Bucks: An Interpretive History of Blacks in American films. (3rd ed.). New York: Continuum.

[11] Means Coleman, R. (1998). African American Viewers and the Black Situation Comedy: Situating racial humor. New York: Garland.

[12] (2000, March 3).  SAG Study: Blacks segregated on TV.  Back Stage, pp. 4, 6. 

[13] (2000, July).  Blacks ‘ghettoized’ on TV says SAG report.  Jet, 98(5), 48. 

[14] (2002, June).  Black TV characters more likely to appear on sitcoms and comedies study finds.  Jet, 102(1), 12. 

[15] Dargis, M. & Scott, A.O.  (2011, February 13).  Hollywood’s whiteout year: few Blacks on silver screen.  New York Times, p. AR1. 

[16] Lee, F.R.  (2009, November 21).  ‘Precious’ spawns racial debate: she’s ‘demeaned’ or ‘angelic’.  New York Times, p. C1. 

[17] Wilkerson, I.  (1993, August 15).  Black life on TV: realism or stereotypes?  New York Times, p. H1.

[18] Bertrand M, & Mullainathan S. (2004). Are Emily and Greg more employable than Lakisha and Jamal?  A field experiment on labor market discrimination. American Economic Review, 94(4), 991-1012.

[19] Pager, D. (2003). The mark of a criminal record. American Journal of Sociology, 5, 937-975.

[20] Massey, D. S., & Denton, N. A. (1993). American Apartheid: Segregation and the Making of the Underclass. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.

[21] Alexander, M. (2009). The New Jim Crow:  Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness. New York: The New Press.

[22] McClintock, P. & Appelo, T.  (2011, March 11).  Where are all the Black actors?  Hollywood Reporter, 417, 62-65. 

[23] Frutkin, A.J.  (1999, November 15).  Uphill battle.  Adweek, 40(46), 50-51. 

[24] Hughes, Z.  (2000, October).  The new TV season: what’s new what’s black, what’s back.  Ebony, 55(12), 138-141, 144-146. 

[sandandglass]

The Nightly Show, July 23, 2015

Larry Wilmore covers the Sandra Bland case

[happynewfears-deactivated201701]

this happened in my city a couple days ago smfh

[b3hold-a-lady]

wow i was just down there wtf

[monroeler3b]

This is my city. Please boost.

[sandandglass]

The Nightly Show, July 23, 2015

Larry Wilmore covers the Sandra Bland case

[solitics]

Shit even trump agrees. Yet there are still people on here who worship cops’ asses and are blaming her

[thr0atmistress-deactivated20191]

“And I’m a huge fan of the police” is what got me …

[onesweetboi]

something is odd…

[crestmoon24]

😒😒

[africa-will-unite-deactivated20]

Well documented.

[nonoviobes]

Notice a pattern?

[talibkweli]

25 of My favorite Hip Hop verses of all time!!!!

Not every rapper is an MC, and not every MC is a lyricist. There are great songs with stupid lyrics, and lyricists who have never made great songs. It’s usually the beat that grabs you first. Sometimes it’s the hook. But for the true hip hop fan, it’s the verses that bring it home. A verse could be dope because of how it feels when you rap along with it, like Greg Nice on Dwyck or Nas on Live at the BBQ. Or it could be the content that gets you like Rass Kass on Nature of the Threat. For style, some of the best verses ever are on Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s Shimmy Shimmy Ya. For me, a great verse is one I could hold up as an example of how truly poetic hip hop is. Jay Electronica, creator of many incredible verses, once told me that Shakespeare got nothing on the best MCs. When you read thru these verses, I bet you’ll agree. shout out to www.rapgenius.com on the new deal, go there for accurate (almost! the closest I’ve ever seen!) translations of some of these lyrics 25 of my FAVORITE HIP HOP VERSES…OF ALL TIIIMMMEE!!!!!!!! 1. RAKIM, FOLLOW THE LEADER, VERSE ONE- ERIC B. AND RAKIM

Follow me into a solo Get in the flow - and you can picture like a photo Music mixed mellow maintains to make Melodies for MC’s motivates the breaks I’m everlastin, I can go on for days and days With rhyme displays that engrave deep as X-rays I can take a phrase that’s rarely heard, FLIP IT Now it’s a daily word I can get iller than ‘Nam, a killin bomb But no alarm - Rakim will remain calm Self-esteem make me super superb and supreme But for a microphone still I fiend This was a tape I wasn’t supposed to break I was supposed to wait, but let’s motivate I want to see who can keep followin and swallowin Takin the making, bitin it and borrowin Brothers tried and others died to get the formula But I'ma let ya sweat - you still ain’t warm You a step away from frozen, stiff as if ya posin Dig into my brain as the rhyme gets chosen So follow me and were ya thinkin’ you were first? Let’s travel at magnificent speeds around the Universe What could ya say as the Earth gets further and further away Planets are small as balls of clay Astray into the Milky Way - world’s outasight Far as the eye can see - not even a satellite Now stop and turn around and look As ya stare in the darkness, ya knowledge is took! So keep starin soon ya suddenly see a star You better follow it cause it’s the R This is a lesson if ya guessin and if ya borrowin Hurry hurry step right up and keep followin The Leader 2. INSEPCTAH DECK, TRIUMPH- WU-TANG CLAN

I bomb atomically, Socrates’ philosophies And hypotheses can’t define how I be droppin these Mockeries, lyrically perform armed robbery Flee with the lottery, possibly they spotted me Battle-scarred shogun, explosion when my pen hits Tremendous, ultra-violet shine blind forensics I inspect view through the future see millenium Killa Beez sold fifty gold sixty platinum Shackling the masses with drastic rap tactics Graphic displays melt the steel like blacksmiths Black Wu jackets Queen Beez ease the guns in Rumble with patrolmen tear gas laced the function Heads by the score take flight incite a war Chicks hit the floor, diehard fans demand more Behold the bold soldier, control the globe slowly Proceeds to blow swingin swords like Shinobi Stomp grounds I pound footprints in solid rock Wu got it locked, performin live on your hottest block 3. EMINEM, RENEGADE- JAY-Z

Since I’m in a position to talk to these kids and they listen I ain’t no politician but I’ll kick it with 'em a minute Cause see they call me a menace; and if the shoe fits I’ll wear it But if it don’t, then y'all’ll swallow the truth grin and bear it Now who’s these king of these rude ludicrous lucrative lyrics Who could inherit the title, put the youth in hysterics Usin his music to steer it, sharin his views and his merits But there’s a huge interference - they’re sayin you shouldn’t hear it Maybe it’s hatred I spew, maybe it’s food for the spirit Maybe it’s beautiful music I made for you to just cherish But I’m debated disputed hated and viewed in America As a motherfuckin drug addict - like you didn’t experiment? Now now, that’s when you start to stare at who’s in the mirror And see yourself as a kid again, and you get embarrased And I got nothin to do but make you look stupid as parents You fuckin do-gooders - too bad you couldn’t do good at marriage! (Ha ha!) And do you have any clue what I had to do to get here I don’t Think you do so stay tuned and keep your ears glued to the stereo Cause here we go - he’s {*Jigga joint Jigga-chk-Jigga*} And I’m the sinister, Mr. Kiss-My-Ass it’s just a RENEGADE 4. AZ, LIFE’S A BITCH- NAS

Visualizin the realism of life and actuality Fuck who’s the baddest a person’s status depends on salary And my mentality is, money orientated I’m destined to live the dream for all my peeps who never made it cause yeah, we were beginners in the hood as five percenters But somethin must of got in us cause all of us turned to sinners Now some, restin in peace and some are sittin in San Quentin Others such as myself are tryin to carry on tradition Keepin the effervescence street ghetto essence inside us Cause it provides us with the proper insight to guide us Even though, we know somehow we all gotta go but as long as we leavin thievin we’ll be leavin with some kind of dough so, and to that day we expire and turn to vapors me and my capers-ll be somewhere stackin plenty papers Keepin it real, packin steel, gettin high Cause life’s a bitch and then you die 5. ANDRE 3000, RETURN OF THE GANGSTA- OUTKAST

It’s the return of the gangsta thanks ta’ Them niggas that’s on that blow That run up in yo’ crib which contains Your lady and an 8 month old Child to raise plus you true blue 'bout this music but They do not want to hear it because they’d Rather be bouncin’ and shootin’ and killin’ and bouncin’ And shit get down Return of the gangsta thanks ta’ Them niggas that thank [think] you soft And say y'all be gospel rappin’ But they be steady clappin’ when you talk about Bitches & switches & hoes & clothes & weed Let’s talk about time travelin’ rhyme javelin Somethin’ mind unravelin’ get down Return of the gangsta thanks ta’ Them niggas who got them kids Who got enough to buy an ounce But not enough to bounce them kids to the zoo Or to the park so they grow up in the dark never Seein’ light so they end up being like yo’ sorry ass Robbin’ niggas in broad ass daylight get down Return of the gangsta thanks ta’ Them niggas that get the wrong impression of expression Then the question is Big Boi what’s up with Andre? Is he in a cult? Is he on drugs? Is he gay? When y'all gon’ break up? When y'all gon’ wake up? Nigga I’m feelin’ better than ever what’s wrong with you You get down! 6. PHAROAHE MONCH, PRISONERS OF WAR- ORGANIZED KONFUSION

Wake up to the mathematics of an erratic rap Rejuvenator of rhyme, that sort of come automatic Poetical medical medicine for the cerebellum I divert em and flirt em insert em then I repel em A breakdown, poetical shakedown Fifty-two pick-up a stick-up so get on the floor facedown The ammo to keep the people steppin Breakin open the vault because I’m like a verbal assault weapon I’m mathematical, acrobatical Attack the wack take rap to the maximum You’re strung out you’re hung out when you heard the style That I brung out of faint air must come out my mouth Where I stick my tongue out in the at-mos-phere Take a good look at what’s happening here On the microphone, I’m rappin Pickin-em-stickin-em up, breakin-em-shakin-em up, and bashin The lyric dictator, the aviator of antonym All beware to prepare for the guillotine Rhymes go express, expert, extreme Be up to par with wisdom and intellect Detatching one’s head directly from one’s neck Still I’ve been illing and drilling your brain Like a villain I came in the darkness to spark the literature for sure When I rhyme for the prisoners of war 7. NAS, NY STATE OF MIND, VERSE ONE

Rappers I monkey flip em with the funky rhythm I be kickin Musician, inflictin composition Of pain I’m like Scarface sniffin cocaine Holdin a M-16, see with the pen I’m extreme, now Bulletholes left in my peepholes I’m suited up in street clothes Hand me a nine and I’ll defeat foes Y'all know my steelo with or without the airplay I keep some E&J, sittin bent up in the stairway Or either on the corner bettin Grants with the ceelo champs Laughin at baseheads, tryin to sell some broken amps G-Packs get off quick, forever niggaz talk shit RemIniscing about the last time the Task Force flipped Niggaz be runnin through the block shootin Time to start the revolution, catch a body head for Houston Once they caught us off guard, the Mac-10 was in the grass and I ran like a cheetah with thoughts of an assassin Pick the Mac up, told brothers, “Back up,” the Mac spit Lead was hittin niggaz one ran, I made him backflip Heard a few chicks scream my arm shook, couldn’t look Gave another squeeze heard it click yo, my shit is stuck Try to cock it, it wouldn’t shoot now I’m in danger Finally pulled it back and saw three bullets caught up in the chamber So now I’m jetting to the building lobby And it was filled with children probably couldn’t see as high as I be (So whatchu sayin?) It’s like the game ain’t the same Got younger niggaz pullin the triggers bringing fame to they name And claim some corners, crews without guns are goners In broad daylight, stickup kids, they run up on us Fo’-fives and gauges, Macs in fact Same niggaz’ll catch a back to back, snatchin yo’ cracks and black There was a snitch on the block gettin niggaz knocked So hold your stash until the coke price drop I know this crackhead, who said she gotta smoke nice rock And if it’s good she’ll bring ya customers in measuring pots, but yo You gotta slide on a vacation Inside information keeps large niggaz erasin and they wives basin It drops deep as it does in my breath I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death Beyond the walls of intelligence, life is defined I think of crime when I’m in a New York state of mind 8. PRODIGY, SHOOK ONES PART TWO- MOBB DEEP

I got you stuck off the realness, we be the infamous You heard of us Official Queensbridge murderers The mobb comes equipped with warfare, beware Of my crime family who got nuff shots to share For all of those who wanna profile and pose Rock you in your face, stab your brain wit’ your nosebone You all alone in these streets, cousin Every man for theyself in this land we be gunnin’ And keep them shook crews runnin’ Like they supposed to They come around but they never come close to I can see it inside your face You’re in the wrong place Cowards like you just get they’re whole body laced up With bullet holes and such Speak the wrong words man and you will get touched You can put your whole army against my team and I guarantee you it’ll be your very last time breathin’ Your simple words just don’t move me You’re minor, we’re major You all up in the game and don’t deserve to be a player Don’t make me have to call your name out Your crew is featherweight My gunshots’ll make you levitate I’m only nineteen but my mind is old And when the things get for real my warm heart turns cold Another nigga deceased, another story gets told It ain’t nothin’ really Hey, yo dun spark the phillie So I can get my mind off these yellowback niggas Why they still alive I don’t know, go figure Meanwhile back in Queens the realness is foundation If I die I couldn’t choose a better location When the slugs penetrate you feel a burning sensation Getting closer to God in a tight situation Now, take these words home and think it through Or the next rhyme I write might be about you 9. BLACK THOUGHT, ACT TOO: LOVE OF MY LIFE- THE ROOTS

The anticipation arose as time froze I stared off the stage with my eyes closed and dove into the deep cosmos The impact pushed back, the first five rows But before the raw live shows I remember I'se a little snot-nosed Rockin Gazelle, goggles and Izod clothes Learnin the ropes of ghetto survival Peepin out the situation I had to slide through Had to watch my back my front plus my sides too When it came to gettin mine I ain’t tryin, to argue Sometimes I wouldn'ta made it if it wasn’t for you Hip-Hop, you the love of my life and that’s true When I was handlin the shit I had to do It was all for you, from the door for you Speak through you, gettin paper on tour for you From the start, Thought was down by law for you Used to hit up every corner store wall for you We ripped shit, and kept it hardcore for you I remember late nights, steady rockin the mic Hip-Hop, you the love of my life So tell the people like that y'all (that y'all) And it sounds so nice Hip-Hop, you the love of my life We bout to take it to the top.. 10. CHUCK D, BLACK STEEL IN THE HOUR OF CHAOS- PUBLIC ENEMY

I got a letter from the government The other day I opened and read it It said they were suckers They wanted me for their army or whatever Picture me given’ a damn - I said never Here is a land that never gave a damn About a brother like me and myself Because they never did I wasn’t wit’ it, but just that very minute… It occurred to me The suckers had authority Cold sweatin’ as I dwell in my cell How long has it been? They got me sittin’ in the state pen I gotta get out - but that thought was thought before I contemplated a plan on the cell floor I’m not a fugitive on the run But a brother like me begun - to be another one Public enemy servin’ time - they drew the line y'all To criticize me some crime - never the less They could not understand that I’m a Black man And I could never be a veteran On the strength, the situation’s unreal I got a raw deal, so I’m goin’ for the steel 11. CAPPADONNA, WINTER WARZ- WU-TANG CLAN

You heard of the rasp before but kept waitin for the sun of song, I keep dancehalls strong Beats never worthy of my cause, I prolong Extravaganza time sits still No propaganda, be wary of the skill As I bring forth the music, make love to your eardrum Dedicated to rap nigga beware of the fearsome Lebanon Don, Malcolm X beat threat CD massacre, murder to cassette I blow the shop up, you ain’t seen nothin yet One man ran, tryin to get away from it Put your bifocal on, watch me a-cometh into your chamber like Freddy enter dream Discombumberate your technique and your scheme Four course applause, like a black dat to dat You’re stuck on stupid like I’m stuck on the map Nowhere to go except next show bro Entertainin motherfuckers can’t stop O in battlin, you don’t want me to start tattlin All upon the stage cause y'all snakes keep rattlin Bitch, you ain’t got nothin on the rich Every other day my whole dress code switch So just in case you want to clock me like Sherry All y'all crab bitches ain’t got to worry Can’t get a nigga like Don dime a dozen Even if I’m smoked out I can’t be scoped out I’m too ill, I represent Park Hill See my face on the twenty dollar bill Cash it in, and get ten dollars back The fat LP with Cappachino on the wax Pass it in your think, put valve up to twelve Put all the other LP’s back on the shelf And smoke a blunt, and dial 9-1-7 1-6-0-4-9-3-11 And you could get long dick hip-hop affection I damage any MC who step in my direction I’m Staten Island’s best son fuck what you heard Niggaz still talkin that shit is absurd My repertoire, is U.S.S.R. P.L.O. style got thrown out the car and ran over, by the Method Man jeep Divine can’t define my style is so deep like pussy, my low cut fade stay bushy like a porcupine, I part backs like a spine Cut you like a blunt and reconstruct your design I know you want to diss me, but I can read your mind Cuz you weak in the knees, like SWV Tryin to get a title like Wu Killa Bee Kid change your habit, you know I’m friends with the Abbott Me and RZA ridin name printed in the tablet under vets, we paid our debts for mad years Hibernate the sound, and now we out like beers and blunt power, born physically power speakin The truth in the song be the pro-black teachin 12. BIG L, EBONICS, VERSE ONE

Check it, my weed smoke is my la A ki of coke is a pie When I’m lifted, I’m high With new clothes on, I’m fly Cars is whips and sneakers is kicks Money is chips, movies is flicks Also, cribs is homes, jacks is pay phones Cocaine is nose candy, cigarettes is bones A radio is a box, a razor blade is a ox Fat diamonds is rocks and jakes is cops And if you got robbed, you got stuck You got shot, you got bucked And if you got double-crossed, you got fucked Your bankroll is your poke, a choke hold is a yoke A kite is a note, a con is a okey doke And if you got punched that mean you got snuffed To clean is to buff, a bull scare is a strong bluff I know you like the way I’m freakin’ it I talk with slang and i'ma never stop speakin’ it 13. MOS DEF, THIEVES IN THE NIGHT- BLACK STAR

Yo, I’m sure that everybody out listenin agree That everything you see ain’t really how it be A lot of jokers out runnin in place, chasin the style Be a lot goin on beneath the empty smile Most cats in my area be lovin the hysteria Synthesized surface conceals the interior America, land of opportunity, mirages and camoflauges More than usually – speakin loudly, sayin nothin You confusin me, you losin me Your game is twisted, want me enlisted – in your usury Foolishly, most men join the ranks cluelessly Buffoonishly accept the deception, believe the perception Reflection rarely seen across the surface of the lookin glass Walkin the street, wonderin who they be lookin past Lookin gassed with them imported designer shades on Stars shine bright, but the light – rarely stays on Same song, just remixed, different arrangement Put you on a yacht but they won’t call it a slaveship Strangeness, you don’t control this, you barely hold this Screamin brand new, when they just sanitized the old shit Suppose it’s, just another clever Jedi mind trick That they been runnin across stars through all the time with I find it’s distressin, there’s never no in-between We either niggaz or Kings We either bitches or Queens The deadly ritual seems immersed, in the perverse Full of short attention spans, short tempers, and short skirts Long barrel automatics released in short bursts The length of black life is treated with short worth Get yours first, them other niggaz secondary That type of illin that be fillin up the cemetery This life is temporary but the soul is eternal Separate the real from the lie, let me learn you Not strong, only aggressive, cause the power ain’t directed That’s why, we are subjected to the will of the oppressive Not free, we only licensed Not live, we just excitin Cause the captors.. own the masters.. to what we writin Not compassionate, only polite, we well trained Our sincerity’s rehearsed in stage, it’s just a game Not good, but well behaved cause the ca-me-ra survey most of the things that we think, do, or say We chasin after death just to call ourselves brave But everyday, next man meet with the grave I give a damn if any fam’ recall my legacy I’m tryin to live life in the sight of God’s memory Like that y'all 14. RA THE RUGGED MAN, UNCOMMON VALOR- JEDI MIND TRICKS

True story… Call me Thorburn, John H. Staff Sergeant, Marksman Skilling, killing, illing I’m able and willing Kill a village elephant, rape and pillage your village Illegitimate killers, US Military guerillas This ain’t a real war, Vietnam shit World War II, that’s a war, this is just a military conflict Soothing, drug-abusing, Vietnamese women screwing Sex, scampling and booz, and all the shit is amusing Bitches and guns, this is every man’s dream I don’t want to go home, where I’m just a ordinary human being Special OP, Huey chopper gun shit, run shit Gook run when the mini-gun spit, won’t miss, kill shit Spit four-thousand bullets a minute Bit the Charlie, hit trigger, hit it I’m in it to win it, get it The lieutenant hinted the villain, I’ve ended up killing The killing, I did it, cripple, did it, pictures I painted is vivid, live it A wizard with weapons, a secret mission we about to begin it Government funded, behind enemy lines bullets is spraying It’s heating up, a hundred degrees The enemy’s the North Vietnamese, bitch please Ain’t no sweat, I’m told “be at ease” Until I see the pilot got hit, and we about to hit some trees Till the rotor broke, crash land, American man Cambodia, right in the enemy hand Take a swig of the whiskey to calm us Them yellow men wearing black pajamas They want to harm us They all up on us Bang, bang, bullet hit my chest, feel no pain To my left, the captain caught a bullet right in his brain Body parts flying, loss of limbs, explosions Bad intentions, I see my best friend’s intestines Pray to the one above, It’s raining and I’m covered in mud I think I’m dying, I feel dizzy, I’m losing blood I see my childhood, I’m back in the arms of my mother I see my whole life, I see Christ, I see bright lights I see Israelites, Muslims and Christians at peace, no fights Blacks, Whites, Asians, people of all types I must have died, then I woke up, suprised I’m alive I’m in a hospital bed, they rescued me, I survived I escaped the war, came back But ain’t escape Agent Orange, two of my kids born handicapped Spastic, quadriplegic, micro cephalic Cerebral palsy, cortical blindness, name it they had it My son died he ain’t live, but I still try to think positive Cause in life, God take, God give 15. KRS-ONE, WHY IS THAT, VERSE ONE- BOOGIE DOWN PRODUCTIONS

The day begins, with a grin And a prayer to excuse my sins I can walk anywhere I choose Cause everybody listens to the B.D.P. crew We’re not here for glamour or fashion But here’s the question I’m askin Why is it young black kids taught {flashin?} They’re only taught how to read, write, and act It’s like teachin a dog to be a cat You don’t teach white kids to be black Why is that? Is it because we’re the minority? Well black kids follow me Genesis chapter eleven verse ten Explains the geneology of Chem Chem was a black man, in Africa If you repeat this fact they can’t laugh at ya Genesis fourteen verse thirteen Abraham steps on the scene Being a descendent of Chem which is a fact Means, Abraham too was black Abraham born in the city of a black man Called Nimrod grandson of Kam Kam had four sons, one was named Canaan Here, let me do some explaining Abraham was the father of Isaac Isaac was the father of Jacob Jacob had twelve sons, for real And these, were the children of Isreal According to Genesis chapter ten Egyptians descended from {Hahm,Kam} Six hundred years later, my brother, read up Moses was born in Egypt In this era black Egyptians weren’t right They enslaved black Isrealites Moses had to be of the black race Because he spent fourty years in Pharoah’s place He passed as the Pharoah’s grandson So he had to look just like him Yes my brothers and sisters take this here song Yo, correct the wrong The information we get today is just wack But ask yourself, why is that? 16. JAY-Z, WHAT MORE CAN I SAY, VERSE THREE

Now you know ass is willie When they got you in a mag For like half a billi And your ass ain’t lily White That mean that shit you write must be illy Either that or your flow is silly It’s both I don’t mean to boast But damn if i don’t brag Them crackers gonna act like I ain’t on they ass The Martha Stewart That’s far from Jewish Far from a Harvard student Just had the balls to do it And no I’m not through with it In fact I’m just previewin it This ain’t the show i’m just EQ'in it One, Two and I won’t stop abusin it To groupie girls stop false accusin it Back to the music The Maybach roof is translucent Niggas got a problem Houston What up B They can’t shut up me Shut down I Not even P.E. I'ma ride God forgive me for my brash delivery But I remember vividly What these streets did to me So picture me Lettin these clowns nit pick at me Paint me like a pickaninny I will literally Kiss Tee-Tee in the forehead Tell her please forgive me Then squeeze until your forehead I’m not the one to score points off In fact I got a joint to knock your points off Young Hova the God nigga blast for me I’m at the Trump International Ask for me I ain’t never scared I’m everywhere You ain’t never there Nigga why would I ever care Pound for pound I’m the best to ever come around here Excluding nobody Look what I embody The soul of a hustler I really ran the street That CEO’s mine That marketing plan was me And no I ain’t get shot up a whole bunch of times Or make up shit in a whole bunch of lines And I ain’t animated, like say a, Busta Rhymes But the real shit you get when you bust down my lines Add that to the fact I went plat a bunch of times Times that by my influence On pop culture I supposed to be number one on everybody’s list We’ll see what happens when i no longer exist Fuck this 17. ICE CUBE, BIRD IN A HAND, VERSE ONE

Fresh out of school cause I was a high school grad Gots to get a job 'cause I was a high school dad Wish I got paid like I was rappin’ to the nation But that’s not likely, so here’s my application Pass it to the man at AT&T 'cause when I was in school I got the A.E.E. But there’s no S.E. for this youngsta I didn’t have no money so now I  gotta punch the Clock at a slave, and be happy man But whitey says there’s no room for the african Always knew that I would clock G’s But welcome to Mcdonalds can I take your order please Gotta sell you food that might give you cancer 'cause my son doesn’t take no for an answer Now I pay taxes that you never give me back What about diapers, bottles, and similac Do I gotta go sell me a whole lotta crack For decent shelter and clothes on my back? Or should I just wait for help from Bush Or Jesse Jackson, and Operation Push If you ask me the whole thing needs a douche A Massengil what the hell crack’ll sell in the neighborhood To the corner house bitches, Miss Parker, Little Joe and Todd Bridges Or anybody that he know So I got me a bird, better known as a kilo Now everybody know I went from poor to a nigga that got dough So now you put the feds against me Cause I couldn’t follow the plan now the president see I’ll never givin’ love again But blacks are too fuckin broke to be republican Now I remember I used to be cool Till I stopped fillin’ out my W-2 Now senators are gettin’ high And your plan against the ghetto backfired So now you gotta pep talk But sorry, this is our only room to walk Cause we don’t want a drug push But a bird in the hand is worth more than a Bush 18. NAS, REWIND

The bullet goes back in the gun The bullet hole’s closin this chest of a nigga Now he back to square one Screamin, “Shoot don’t please” I put my fifth back on my hip It’s like a VCR rewindin a hit He put his hands back on his bitch My caravan doors open up I jumped back in the van and closed it shut Goin reverse, slowly prepared My nigga Jungle utters out somethin crazy like, “Go he there” Sittin in back of this chair, we hittin the roach The smoke goes back in the blunt, the blunt gets bigger in growth Jungle unrolls it, put his weed back in the jar The blunt turns back into a cigar We listen to Stevie, it sounded like heavy metal fans Spinnin records backwards of AC/DC I give my niggas dap, jump out the van back first Back upstairs, took off the black shirt I’m in the crib with the phone to my ear Listen up so y'all can figure out the poem real clear The voice on the phone was like, “Outside right we” So with my mouth wide, holdin my heat Bullets I had plenty to squeeze, plenty for ya 'Cause Jungle said, “Block your on enemies the” Hung up the phone, then the phone rings (phone ringing) I’m laid in the bed thinkin 'bout this pretty young thing Who left, she came back, her clothes just fell to the rug She fell to my bed and gave me a hug I told her, “No hell” She talkin 'bout, “Me kiss” Bobbed her head then spit the nut back in my dick Started suckin with no hands, a whole lotta spit Then got up and put her bra back on her tits Got fully dressed and told me, “Stressed really I’m” Picked up her Gucci bag and left her nigga behind Walkin through the door, she rang the bell twice I vomited Vodka back in my glass with juice and ice The clock went back from three, to two, to one And that’s about the time the story begun That’s when I first heard the voicemail on the cell It said, “Son we found that nigga we gotta kill” Message Beep Ay yo son, ay yo son, you hear me, you hear me? Listen man, this dude right on the block, right now, man I found him, right now, I see him right now! Let’s kill him) Message Beep “Yo, this Nas, leaving, Peace” 19. JEAN GRAE, #8- JEANIUS

Possibly I could, drop in some knowledge I should But I ain’t finish college and I’m not a Kanye, got it, good Intelligent rhetoric, brain packed like a tenement Aim back at the tenants my face crack in a venomous rage I really wanna blaze all you, burn you like 8 whores do Pearl you like Florida store furniture Permanent marker Jean is tagging blacking up your partners penis Pardon the phoenix while I mark you plus I bark the meanest Hardly elitist, I know the struggle I mostly bubble underground like a soda below some broken rubble At ground zero I get down nigga, like them brown people Saturday night like Geechi Suede and Sonny Chiba lift ya I’ll levitate the scriptures just so I can see em better Each and every letter was conceived by Jean I’m the Coretta Scott King of my day I mean, stand by my mate, my king Planning for Jamaica honeymooning, vacationing CD break it in, skipping on this track like I been scraping it, scraping it, scraping it, bring it back Sicker than rap, I’ll stick you with a picket axe Pick up your soul and then control it what’s bigger than that? You don’t like the way I flow? “She needs more emotion” no I’ll give you emotion, it’s you, holding your broken nose I’ll leave you comatose with a pound of Columbian snow At your side so when the cops arrive, they’ll just say you overdosed This ain’t a battle, I would make your cranium rattle Skull in pain as if a hundred veins had popped, a dangerous madam The Heidi Fleiss of words, like a verse, find a purse I could make you love me if you fuck with me violence occurs New York pimp game the worst chic since the birth of words That I first met on a Thursday I think I’m cursed Don’t blink niggas, cuz I will figure A way to kill you in a second with my ring finger Think quicker, my vision multiplied like liquor drinkers I’ll kick your sister til she’s crippled make you step with her Cuz I could mark you too, show you what a dart could do When your aorta’s a target, nigga, pardon you 20. BIG PUN, DREAM SHATTERER, VERSE ONE

Ay-yo I shatter dreams like Jordan, assault and batter your team Your squadron’ll be barred from rap like Adam & Eve from the garden I’m carvin’ my initials on your forehead So every night before bed you see the “BP” shine off the board head Reverse that, I curse at the first wack nigga with the worst rap 'cause he ain’t worth jack Hit 'em with a thousand pounds of pressure per slap Make his whole body jerk back, watch the earth crack Hand him his purse back I’m the first Latin rapper to baffle your skull Master the flow, niggaz be swearin’ I’m blacker than coal Like Nat King, I be rapping and tongue’s packing The ones, magnums, cannons and gatling guns It’s Big Pun! The one and only son of Tony…Montana You ain’t promised manana in the rotten manzana C'mon-pana we need more rhymers Feel the marijuana snake bite anaconda I’m in Havana with Juana, try to match my persona Sometimes rhymin’ I blow my own mind like Nirvana Comma, and go the whole nine like Madonna Go try to find another rhymer with my kinda grammar 21. BUSTA RHYMES, SCENARIO- A TRIBE CALLED QUEST

Watch, as I combine all the juice from the mind Heel up, wheel up, bring it back, come rewind Powerful impact BOOM! from the cannon Not braggin, try to read my mind just imagine Vo-cab-u-lary’s necessary When diggin into my library Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Eating ITAL stew like the one Peter Tosh UH uh UH, all over the track, man UH, pardon me, UH, as I come back As I did it yo I had to beg your pardon When I travel to the Sun I roll with the squadron RRRRRROAW RRRRRRROAW like a dungeon dragon Change your little drawers cause your pants are saggin Try to step to this, I will twist you in a turban And have u smelling rank, like some old stale urine Chickity-choco, the chocolate chicken The rear cock diesel buttcheeks they were kicking Yo, bustin out before the Busta bust a nut the rhyme the rhythm is in sync (UHH!) the rhymes are on time (TIME!) Rippin up the sound just like a radio Observe the rhyme and check out the scenario!! 22. JAY-Z, REGRETS, VERSE TWO

I found myself reminiscin, remember this one When he was here he was crazy nice with his son I miss him, long as I’m livin he’s livin through memories He’s there to kill all my suicidal tendencies In heaven lookin over me, or in hell, keepin it cozy I’m comin life on these streets ain’t what it’s supposed to be Remember Newton, mutual friend well me and him feudin On your life I tried to talk to him But you know niggaz, think they guns can stop four niggaz Frontin like they’re, Big Willie but really owe niggaz Hoe niggaz, this year I’m show niggaz think I’m slippin I’m bought to send you a roommate, no bullshittin For my hustle’s goin too well to hit him You was right niggaz want you to be miserable wit em Anyway, I ain’t tryin to hear it, I think I’m touched This whole verse I been talkin to your spirit, a little too much 23. NOTORIOUS B.I.G., NOTORIOUS THUGS

Armed and dangerous, ain’t too many can bang with us Straight up weed no angel dust, label us notorious Thug ass niggaz that love to bust, it’s strange to us Y'all niggaz be scramblin, gamblin Up in restaurants with mandolins, and violins We just sittin here tryin to win, tryin not to sin High off weed and lots of gin So much smoke need oxygen, steadily countin them Benjamins Nigga you should too, if you knew What this game’ll do to you Been in this shit since ninety-two Look at all the bullshit I been through So-called beef with you know who Fuck a few female stars or two Then I blew like, nigga who, like Mike, shit Not to be fucked with Motherfucker better duck quick, cause Me and my dogs love to buck shit Fuck the luck shit, strictly aim No aspirations to quit the game Spit yo’ game, talk yo’ shit Grab yo’ gat, call yo’ click Squeeze yo’ clip, hit the right one Pass that weed, I got to light one All them niggaz I got ta fight one All them hoes I got ta like one Our situation is a tight one Whatcha gonna do, fight or run? Seems to me that you’ll take B Bone and Big, nigga die slowly I'ma tell you like a nigga told me Cash Rule Everything Around Me Shit, lyrically, niggaz can’t see me Fuck it, buy the coke Cook the coke, cut it Know the bitch 'fore you caught yourself lovin’ it Nigga with a Benz fuckin it Doesn’t it seem odd to you Big come through with mobs and crews Goodfellas down to the Mo Thugs dudes Who’s the killa, me or you? 24. COMMON, COMMUNISM

Chick-a chick-a i’m Chick-a chick-a on Chick-a chick-a my My, own shit Like an entrepreneur, that stepped in manure Man I’m newer than a jack I went up the hill with Jill And jacked Jill’s big booty I did the booty up, I told the bitch she better have my money Or step to the AMG You know Com Sense, OK him be That nigga that be making all the bid-by-by-bye sounds But since then, Common calm down! I’m on some calm shit watch com get complicated Simple motherfuckers say the way that com communicated Was too complex, I got a complex not to complain On my brain no complain and so will my community And I prefer compliments So I complement at an angle, of ninety degrees It’s the nineties, and easy got known for grease I got a sense of direction and a compass Come past mc’s with compassion, though I heard the screams of em But I ain’t Shai, so why shall I comfort Com should’ve been at the fort with jeff I’m so ill But I chilled in my compartment with no company and no meals Now com can get the pan(t)y, but I want my own company And Com is on a mission not to work for commission It’s a common market and it’s so much competition But to me, competition is none To my comp I’m a ton I get amped like Watts in a riot My compact disc is a commodity, so buy it Instead of competing with pete Com compromised, com made a promise Not to commercialize, but compound the soul With other elements, compelling sense into communism 25. GHOSTFACE KILLAH, IMPOSSIBLE- WU-TANG CLAN

Call an ambulance, Jamie been shot, word to Kimmy Don’t go Son, nigga you my motherfuckin heart Stay still Son, don’t move, just think about Keba She’ll be three in January, your young God needs you The ambulance is taking too long Everybody get the fuck back, excuse me bitch, gimme your jack One, seven one eight, nine one one, low battery, damn Blood comin out his mouth, he bleedin badly Nahhh Jamie, don’t start that shit Keep your head up, if you escape hell we gettin fucked up When we was eight, we went to Bat Day to see the Yanks In Sixty-Nine, his father and mines, they robbed banks He pointed to the charm on his neck With his last bit of energy left, told me rock it with respect I opened it, seen the God holdin his kids Photogenic, tears just burst out my wig Plus he dropped one, oh shit, here come his Old Earth With no shoes on, screamin holdin her breasts with a gown on She fell and then lightly touched his jaw, kissed him Rubbed his hair, turned around the ambulance was there Plus the blue coats, Officer Lough, took it as a joke Weeks ago he strip-searched the God and gave him back his coke Bitches yellin, Beenie Man swung on Helen In the back of a cop car, dirty tarts are tellin But suddenly a chill came through it was weird Felt like my man, was cast out my heaven now we share Laid on the stretcher, blood on his Wally’s like ketchup Deep like the full assassination with a sketch of it It can’t be, from Yoohoo to Lee’s Second grade humped the teachers, about to leave Finally this closed chapter, comes to an end He was announced, pronounced dead, y'all, at twelve ten

[nonoviobes]

July 4, 1776 - July 2, 1964

1 Long Independance Day

[nonoviobes]

C'mon cuntface

C'mon cuntface