fuck this shit, fuck you all. i'm not even gonna tell you where i am, maybe i'm in l.a.yme (r) maybe i'm right across the room from you in phoebes, in brooklyn, drinking a fucking soy chai. maybe i'm smoking shit in the boogie down (south bronx, south south bronx). i could be cruising 8 mile, the fuckin pimp slappin female eminem (nah, i don't think so) or i could be sleeping in a puddle in the center of baghdad, my hearing blown out, saying raps under my breath and imagining other worlds far away from the army, posting made-up stories on blogger. (you're jingling baby. go 'head baby)
fuck everyone tryin to be a big shot, tryin to act like they know what time it is. fuck those vice boys. mama said canuck you out. fuck the pundit blogs, those close-to-being-middle-aged fucks with flabby arms and bushy facial hair who sound like they're typing with their dick, blessing us with a few milky pearls dripping from their superior consciousness. fuck you i already went to college.
it's afrika bambaataa's b-day.
he and his friends were so smart, they invented a new form of art.
hip-hop was born in parks by the river.
it was born out of love
in community centers and on cardboard boxes
under the neon lights of Times Square
What have you and you're friends created? What the fuck have you come up with?
Are you out there protesting the war, getting in everyone's face
and then driving off in your car?
You think everything's so fucking black and white, what the fuck do you know about violence?
What the fuck do you know about running towards the grey cloud,
the disaster scene
fucking ground zero
everyone running the other way
i get on the back of some kid's BMX
all of us looking up
eyes wide open not getting it
a feeling of unreality made us strangely nonchalant
the boy made figure eights on the bike
i didn't say anything
he was zoning out, unsure whether to go backwards or forward
it looked like the end of the world up there
a guy behind me muttered "get em get em" under his breath
when a row of fighter jets screeched over our heads
it was the only sign of emotion
that strange dust washed everything out of us
for me all that was left was a never ending tickertape in my mind
the same thing repeated
over and over
it read:
"sterling's somewhere in there i've got to find her
my best friend's in there i've got to find her"
i think war is when you stop thinking
your mind is shackled by the gravity of the situation
something else takes over
like during my blackouts
i live through hours
sometimes days
and i don't remember a thing
(i was central, i lost control)
i swear i don't remember a thing.
whatever that means.
sumo pop
We're the renegades of the atomic age.
And it's the atomic age of the renegades.
TRUEBOY never softens it.
I don't make it easy on you.
That's because I want to build something here.
Maybe with your help
Mr. Only Fierce
Hold off on that car
and buy a kingdom instead
a blog enterprise
for us by us
(rub your titties if you love hip-hop)
fuck selling out
fuck the 9 to 5s
i can't work for someone else
The future is upon me. Several years of partying have steeled me. Fuck all of you out there who don't know what drugs really are about. The fucking night vision that they give you. You need to have been around the block more than once or twice to start getting that kind of high.
I'm a black tailed rat, racing on all fours across the tracks of the evening train.
(and we'll kiss, as though nothing can fall)
Totally disconnected from reality, air born, laced-up. Fuck it, we're ready. Let's travel six heads deep down this highway. Let's leave the centuries and customers behind us. I want to return to year one, to an untold wealth of wisdom, the playground of the inner shining idiots.
listen to "new age" by the velvet underground
the live version if you can
then some public enemy
(beat is for sonny bono)
(beat is for yoko ono)
(beat is forever)
kidgod
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