Re: Hip-Hoppas Unite!
Issachar, on host 207.30.27.2
Wednesday, May 8, 2002, at 06:34:17
Re: Hip-Hoppas Unite! posted by uselessness on Monday, May 6, 2002, at 15:55:31:
> ...if you ever get a chance to see KJ-52 in concert DON'T PASS IT UP! He came here to Florida last November and put on an amazing show -- complete with breakdancing and a freestyle competition. He even sprayed some awesome graffiti upstairs in the coffeehouse (don't worry, they wanted him to).
Dang, that sounds great. For a long time I thought breakdancing had gone the way of the dodo and I was psyched to find out a couple years ago that it still thrives in the hip-hop underground. Not that I can breakdance myself, mind you, but I love to see it performed.
> ...Ill Harmonics ...Pigeon John ...John Reuben ...Knowdaverbs ...MG! The Visionary
Other greats: LPG, Future Shock, Sup the Chemist, Mars ILL, LA Symphony, 4th Avenue Jones, Raphi, Mark J...there's mad talent out there that most folks never heard of.
> Well, that made my day. I was just talking to somebody yesterday about how tiny the Christian rap underground is. Heh. Small world.
Cool, I was happy to see that someone else around here knows about this stuff too. Now I'ma embarrass myself still yet even more by posting up some stuff I did last Fall when I was sort of in a groove and writing a verse every day. These bits aren't superb or anything, but they were fun to write and I still like them pretty well.
Iss "little do they know that Pigeon Jiggy got fame" achar
* * * * *
As I amble through the preamble it's understandable If I shout props to JoJo for rhyming the word "mandible" I really dug that raw line about his jawline It came on me like a tsunami crashin' upon the shaw'line Went through me like the water I swalla in Guatemala It's God the Father, not Allah ya gotta follow That last line was gratuitous, it had nothin' to do with this But good rhymes and Cocoa Puffs is kind of hard for me to resist It's ludicrous, the path of my thoughts is like pachinko Yet soothing like gingko, yo if you copy, say "Kinko's" Try counting to cinco, both in Russian and Swahili If you can do that, maybe you can understand and feel me
**********
Right now it's reading "underachiever" on my slumber-meter From summer heat and no sleep, feels like I'm hung a meter Above reality, and wishin' I had brung a liter Of Mountain Dew to get me down to earth like Thumbelina O Come Redeemer is my prayer from the hymnody Come into me and let your blood be my indemnity-- Wait, y'all didn't bargain for all this jargon Man, it's like I'm sparkin' in spectacles and a cardigan Let's start again and get the brag on, the verbal vagabond Pourin' out my flagon for thirsty Cro-Magnons Makin' heads say "daggone, who let the dragon out the dungeon?" Bring on the funk so I can plunge into somethin' pungent While y'all was grungin', I listened to SFC When Sup dropped The Bomb it's like he was addressin' me Now y'all can't step to me 'cause I come tighter than Speedos After rockin' the cantina, yo -- I'm out like Greedo
**********
My brain once got picked up on flagrant charges of vagrancy And placed in a hospice under the auspices of the Agency For Recovering Mental Meanderthals, where zanies like me are trained to be Inured against the lure of mental detours and vagaries Now this cranial vacancy did not deter me from rising early Settin' my jaw firmly and requestin' a blessin' upon my journey I'm out to burn me some head shrinkers who kidnapped my thinker Snapped on my lap-strap and rolled out with boom-bappin' speakers Arriving, I saw the place was essentially a penitentiary Eventually I ventured around to see where the back entrance be Cracked it open an inch or three, then slipped in on my tiptoes Slid low under a laser beam, gotta watch not to trip those My lip rose in a sneer as I drew near the door to a lab Marked "Free-Thinkers Rehab" -- now it's time to make my grab I broke in, saw consoles smokin' and men collapsed inside The feedback from my brain had left their circuits and synapses ...FRIED (heh)
**********
Reading too much literature can really make you bitter at your Own life, frittered away on figures that are miniature Poor caricatures of the characters between the bindings Where even tragedy had majesty, and silver linings Were there for the finding. You mentally compare and despair Distantly aware that the air you're breathin's more real than what you *want* to believe in In this gutless land love is anything *but* grand A man lives by the gland and takes the gold band off his hand People are proud, but petty and unsteady Ready to hate you for any reason as they drift around the eddy Of a life full of motion but empty of meaning While you've lost your thing for vain posturing and preening So you find retreat in lined sheets that contain worlds And hide away from the everyday plain world Til one story frees you from needing to be an escapist You start reading about a meeting on the road to Emmaus...
**********
I secretly despise every new guy that draws her blue eyes But like a fool I'm concealing my feelings behind true lies Before this glue dries I gotta peel my foolish heart from her But already I'm stuck fast and can't bear to be apart from her Like a carpenter I'm bitin' nails as I wonder whether I measure up to the fine-feathered fly guys who flock together Wherever she travels -- Lord God, why must I be bashful? I couldn't go on record with this if my middle name was Nashville My mind builds castles and then turns to knock down every block From fantasy to reality and back, as I stare at the clock Hours become weeks and all I can think is: what if she knew? I'd pour out my life for her if only she loved me too If only the smile I give her wasn't so phony If only she could know, if only, if only...
This old radio song ends. But driving on I still remember The ache of that young yearning still softly burning like an ember
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