lol, only in america dude!

Haha!

This is very funny but only in America does it qualify as news.

Seriously.

chicken chasing fame?

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pure mack on a record!

What’s hood y’all?

There’s something on the air right now. If its not in your ear, I don’t know what is.

ALBUM: DA BEENZ (Brooklyn & Queens)
ARTIST: T-MACK (TMACKTHEARTIST)
GOVERNMENT NAME: TERRY MACKIE
PRODUCER: Cooler Ruler Divine.

Fine, I’m gonna leave the hip hop blogging to hip hop bloggers, but I thought I should let y’all know about my new favorite thing. When Producer “Cooler Ruler” first sent me the link to “the-mark-of-a-crazy-kid” he said it was a “test run” – funny guy… This was Tmack’s freshman cd and it was released back in June 2009.

I only got to hear it around December. It sounded to me like young Terry Mackie had passed the test. I fell in love with “I run NY” and “Paid a Grip”. Before anything could really grow on me though, I got on to the next one; so to speak…

TMACK

Cuz six months later, on January 23rd 2010, DaBeenz (Brooklyn & Queens) drops. I think its sick but don’t take my word for it. Check it out for yourself: Download DaBeenz and give it a listen, or get the download link from Tmack’s site Let me know what you think.

More importantly, let him know.

Nuff sed mayn!

Baadaye!

beginnings

Dedication: To Sharon. A friend. A sister. Fondly remembered. Embrace your new beginning baby.

she sat on the couch, not really watching CNN
not really holding the pen;
not really craving the end.

didn’t feel the mosquitoes, digging their teeth in her flesh
sucking the blood from her veins
spitting disease in her “self”

she didn’t even notice the light was not really on
the candle flickering out
her spirit withering down

she thought about her life and how she didn’t really live it
how she never did love it
and how through all the pain
she couldn’t wait to say fuck it!

she thought of her mama and how she didn’t really care
about the pain she would suffer
the heavy load she would bear.

she thought about God and wondered if he was laughing
if the trick He was playing
had angels on the floor rolling.

she didn’t even hear the little voice in her ear
my child u need not a fear
this storm will certainly clear.

she took a swig from the bottle and shed a few million tears
for the seed in her belly would never live to a year.

she reached for the pills and silently declared
that the pain she endured
would be the last she would bear.

she’d said to me though that this was hardly the end
that she’d fight to the death
that she’d never relent…

the note that she wrote didn’t end up on the news
she didn’t cause any waves
nor did she cause any blues.

so this is not a song.
this is hardly a verse.
this is a dirge like my forefathers wrote for fallen soldiers
sad rhymes like mothers penned for fallen daughters.
every word is a tear; every bar a screaming wail.
for that sweet little flame that died just how it had lived.

Baadaye!

vanilla ice cream

What’s hood y’all!

I never do lyrics but I just had to post this one.
A certain special someone just cracked my ribs when he reminded me of this song.

Vanilla Ice Cream – Stephen Lynch

Have a seat and listen, please don’t say a thing
The matters of the heart sometimes, the truth will ever sting
Just don’t take it personally, this is no attack
But we will never last because I am white and you are…also white

I only like black girls the brown girls, the café au lait
Caramel girls, and mocca girls just blow me away
If your a nubian, I want you to-be in every fantasy
But if you’re a whitey, say nighty-nighty, your just not the girl for me

Oh I hate vanilla ice cream, I like chocolate instead
I hope she likes her soul food with a little Wonder Bread
Don’t call it Jungle Fever cause that just isn’t right
I am not a racist, some of my best friends are white

I just prefer black girls, the brown girls, the café au lait
A caramel girls and mocca girls just blow me away. If you’re a cracker, you better get blacker or else you best get out
It is no mystery, I like a sister see that’s what I’m talkin about

Our wedding song will be “Ebony and Ivory”, and we’ll sing Christmas carols round the old Kwanzaa tree
But color is not the issue here, it’s dignity, it’s class
It’s all about her heart, okay it’s partly about that ass
I want me some black girl, the brown girl, the café au lait
A caramel girls, and mocca girls, just blow me away
If you’re a honky, you’re singin the wrong key, it’s the honest truth
The skin that she’s dwellin in, must contain melanin, that is the Fountain of Youth.

Thomas Jefferson.

Robert DeNiro.

David Bowie.

To a certain extent…Ted Dansen.

Strom Thurmond!!! Strom Thurmond!!! yeeeahh…

Drowning

In my shoes, just to see what it’s like, to be me/ I’ll be you, let’s trade shoes just to see what it’d be like to/ Feel your pain, you feel mine Go inside each other’s mind/ Just to see what we find, Look at shit through each other’s eyes/ But don’t let ’em say you ain’t beautiful… – Eminem

Ever had your head held down under water?
So long;
You felt first; anxiety,
Then fear,
Then the water started seeping in through your nose
because you couldn’t hold your breath anymore?

Then you got lightheaded and all the other valves in your body thought it was
“all systems go”?
Then you stopped caring or pushing;
because you were bleeding under your fingernails;
and from your knuckles?

And you’d peed and crapped on yourself already;
so you had no dignity left anyway?

And you’d cried like a bitch because you could feel the distinct release;
that meant your soul was slipping away?

Then it became almost orgasmic;
as you caught the glint of that infamous white light?

At which point…
Did a strong pair of hands grab you;
and pull you back up to safety?
Did they get you hoping again?
Trusting again?
Believing again?

Is that how it happened for you?

Just checking

ash

yours truly…

What’s Hood!

I’m a very indisciplined writer but once in a while something bugs me enough to get me to write about it. This is one of those things.

Dear Daddy,

It’s been like 8 years since you left and its been like 8 times i’ve been left since then.

Since then, I’ve been bad and I’ve been virtuous but I’ve seen stuff that in your day wuda put the fuck in ridiculous!

Since when was a female forced to go to these lengths for a brother to treat her right n show her respect?

Since then, these brain cells been drowned n suffocated by booze n Maryjane so i can’t remember shit well.

But listen…

Please. Refresh my memory. Did you choose to love her or was it involuntary?

Did you listen to her voice when she whispered in your ear? Did you think she was special or simply ordinary?

I have stared at the backs of way too many quitters and I can’t help but wonder if you treated her different.

Did you turn your back in the still of the night? Did you still show her love with the chill of the morning?

Did you call her your queen, was she enough for you?
Did you force her to photoshop her life for you?
Stretch this, crop that, sprinkle more spice for you?

Were you crazy about her?
Did your heart skip a beat?
Or was it the same every damn day like the shit on this rat race…?

Cuz at times…

My heart is like a equalizer display and in those times I’ve been totally unprepared for this pain. So listen…

Please. Send me an answer quickly cuz at this rate this hate game may just crush me completely!

Baadaye!

ash.

the game

1st quarter

You are fresh on the team. Its your first time on the court after warming the bench for what seemed like eternity, so you are full of zeal. You will do anything to impress the coach, since to you, he’s God.

You end up doing more than you really should. You play with too much emotion. You let your passion for the game and for your wonderful coach show too soon.

He knows he’s got a loyal player. One he can count on.

2nd Quarter

You are still enjoying the game. And the coach’s attention. He’s showering you with it. Simply because for him, you’re the newest kid and your zeal is more than a little amusing.

His enthusiasm and attentions egg you on. You do even more to show him how much you love and appreciate the game. You’re insatiable.

You start doing him little favors, like fetching his coffee before he asks, and you get it just right. You even surprise him with lunch once in a while!

Your little post- it notes say “thank you” for the opportunity to play in this great team.

You’re in heaven.

He realizes he’s got a worshipper. One he can bench at any time at all, with no reason at all and you wouldn’t complain.

3rd Quarter

He’s getting bored

You’re fascinated by him and everything about him. You see brilliance in every little tip he gives at practice. Only you laugh at his jokes.

You squeal when anyone says anything against him. He rewards you with more time on the court. You’re not playing a full game though because as he says; ‘You’re just not ready yet’. You agree and work even harder.

You call him at home and send him text messages. He picks up your calls and texts back but never calls or texts first.

He realizes now that he’s got a tick! One that will not go away unless its forcibly pulled out.

4th Quarter

He only picks up a quarter of your phone calls. When you text, he doesn’t text back. your smiley faces are starting to really piss him the fuck off!

You visit him at home. He doesn’t ask you in.

Your conversations are getting shorter and losing intensity. you rarely talk about the game or how much you both love it, anymore. More importantly, you rarely play together anymore.

You complain about the lack of special attention. You accuse him of favoritism because he’s letting the newest kid play more time than you. He says you’ve grown into a prima donna without the work and chucks you out of the team.

Your world crumbles.

You don’t know what it is you did wrong.

You are devastated, but helpless and most importantly, clueless.

You start hunting for another team and your criteria is to find a coach with totally different characteristics from your previous one. A coach who will appreciate your “talents” and affections.

Your previous coach had “issues”.

Hopefully the next one wont.

Eventually you DO find another team to play for. The coach seems nice. He pledges his unconditional loyalty to his star player; YOU.

And the cycle starts again…