“Too much vision, them niggas soundin’ blind/They must be in the dark, downing swine/A titan… Yeah, but I’m enlightened/Should build museums from all the shit I’m writin’/Y’all niggas weak, check my speech, start bitin’/I don’t speak too much; words’ more potent/Live niggas say it with me; herbs, don’t quote it…”
– KA – “Cold Facts”
The Witty Unpredictable is wilting in a world where the wiliest words of no worth whirl wonder…
There were these wild ideas of glory out of Pelan and I learned it as Knowledge Reigns Supreme Over Nearly Everyone could utter it. South Bronx to Gunset! Where the damned imperialist yankees couldn’t crack this fitted. But the revolucion de Hip Hop gave me Lavoe—la voz—that voice of revolt. It was the evolution of a taped talking that inspired this lost-found to search outside for his insides. And MCing becomes voiceless, B-Boy uprocks to pages, DJ cuts into paragraphs by powerful punctuating and now my graffiti violates with published colors chiseled in the walls of your mind.
So I study myself and write Art on Art and my counter-culture counters the confetti of commercialism floating around…and down to the story of a nigga that does Just As You-Zealously. Off the block with talent to forever switch schemes a jigga presses to pause pitch and play project postpartum product. From tops that topple to Cipher Divines that savagely encircle, we get Das’ diggety, Cuban Linx’ lite, Blueprint with lesser Supreme Clientele and Magna Cartas that sail my 5 Percenter family down mainstreams. They promise these Cipher Divines are A&R’d fully but the eq levels are closer to repertoire where the four elements just can’t seep through the niggafied bass of bliss. Yo, God, a master bartender that Jay-Z is who can mix the knowledge of self you earned and shared? He can mix, dilute and tamper it into flavored mind drinks that make the blind, deaf and dumb want to gulp and vomit off of it. You still don’t #RespectFAKE?!!
Knowledge of self is a core of Hip Hop. It’s elemented by Herc but it’s from we, the Gods, that learnt from a man known as Allah, the Father of the Nation of Gods and Earths. This knowledge can’t be owned because it is as true as any math equation but a lot more work. But it can be bitten and tossed out confusingly. And when Allah left the Nation of Islam to do one thing, it was something no one else with that knowledge was doing in that Temple number 7. So Malcolm X left to focus on the negative knowledge around us—who the oppressor really is. And Allah left to share a positive knowledge—show and prove to the youth that the Original man is God and the Original woman is the Earth. A A-like Allah, we realize that there is no mystery god, energy, being or force that controls our reality and actualize that it is us, only. As large as the quantum thought that sparked the universe and as simply profound as the metaphor of Sun, Moon and Star, the Black, Brown and Yellow family is found as Creators in their own Creation.
Them shady folks try to come amongst us to write unscholarly books on the Gods and Earths from Wakeel to Knight by a fraud’s penly sight. But there’s no dianetics on our side to quasi-measure the stress of being lesser than Fard Muhammad or the Honorable Elijah Muhammad who did their great work already. We are merely who we are, right now, Gods and Earths, not muslims submitting to the will of Allah who came in the person of somebody who ain’t here but coming on a spaceship someday…And so when Jigga points to the sky for God punctuating his verse then yells, “Peace to the Gods!” what confusion is beholden to us? And at this Brooklyn Hip Hop Festival, in front of exuberant fans experiencing songs that propagandize my life, Jigga can pimp pass a golden version of our flag he hasn’t honored to Jay Electronica. And Jay who can’t Elect even draped in the mighty Fruit of Islam uniform, wears my Universal Flag, as a tool of Hov. All as his beloved Wesley, who scholarly hunts a whitened Fard in any scripture and disrespectfully calls my brothers the ambulance to the NOI hospital. All just like an overeducated pompous white man they think they ain’t like. So who then has solden a worthless mix of spiritual gumbo for niggas to sambo off of near the heart of Medina?
Who is left here to #RespectFAKE?! We can excuse all as refuse that we ourselves may be profuse of but Hip Hop is an Art where we daringly stop any wrong, even ones made normal, from occurring again. And there is a difference in an artist that sincerely works to learn himself, intellectually and spiritually, as he presents himself. But how many hot dumbers will you get from jigga before it ain’t so?! Will you sit up and listen to a mystery bar to bar yourself?
“And why is it everytime that a multi-platinum artist always use the underground to make a comeback?/Is it fair to the hardcore niggas that rap?”
–Redman – “Basically”
Hip Hop is a Genesis of idea, simply LXG as it takes Love, a sincere intention, through the unknown (X) creative aspects of one’s mind to share their Greatest through. So when Busta Rhymes becomes another knowing veteran to sloppily jack beats one must question the harm. There are coincidences of note as when 1992 to 93 saw many sample “Ode to Billy Joe” but Gensis LXG’s “Calm Down” was bitten. Just like J Hood bit Arewhy’s artwork for Genesis for his newest mixtape. And the root of Creativity in Originality that Hip Hop is founded on is slightly marred again. You didn’t know?! Well then, you better #RespectFAKE so you won’t fuckin fall victim! Cause the old jiggas know how to repackage the best they never could do back then. The eminems will use their white privilege to have you assume they’re more than a silly rhyming auctioneer. And the busted up rhymers will take no care in what they do as they plop theyselves on the pop steeplechase.
Boom Bap Hip Hoppas, the enemy ain’t no mystery either so the God #RespectFAKE. The longer the catalog, the stronger the stench we must all bathe of to do Hip Hop right and exact. Learn yourself to change and grow sincerely, creatively and originally. There must be a fire for integrity that bombs the wack not merely a lust for the insult that thrusts one up a chart. The difference must always be told not sold. The daring challenge to repair our flaws is the nature of a living perfection that must be taken. And Creators creating Creation is only done by the realest. That’s the Sunset Style of Art on Art and no fake fuck can fuck with that. #LoveTheREAL
“Name a crew that can stop the force that I strike wit/Let alone try to hold the pen that I write wit…”
–GZA – “General Principles”