You can still fall into dream even after the trauma
of the hollow shells and the stale resin.
The city of sounds and stress in piles
of bad notes and conformed thoughts.
A vile quartet singing songs of chaos
in the goodest measures, say you the slumbered.
But the characters that score your slumber are running bull–
The payolador is hated as he teases and waves a blanket of bloody airplay.
But the charging payolee,
filled of versed bull,
with his horns of payment
are knighted for giving you hot summers.
Will they ever overrap and choke on their #PrettyHiccup? Or…
A poor righteous teacher is the title of honor upon the men who have chosen themselves. Seeing themselves as the true and living. True–120 lessons known and understood into an endless million more, and the living–mathematics lived as supreme principles to every numerical degree. All is the nature of the Original man, God. Supreme beings have made the toughest world to see the depths of themselves once doubted. And now that hell is over. It’s fucking over. And only over when we make it end. Oh Lord?! We will need to end the mysteries we cry to when the calculations of generations seem to ravage only us into powerlessness. We gonna have to create to engage and not merely to escape. We gonna have to dare to innovate and challenge every disease we have within, that became without, from the tarnished lands to the other man, with a righteous illness. A game of death to play to see God cipher divine.
The premierely pioneering poor righteous teacher on wax, an MC of GOAT candidate level skill and execution, who, along with Brand Nubian, trailblazed the peak of spiritual identity–I am God, the knowledge of self of the 5% Nation of Gods and Earths. The dialect that codes the crucial core of Hip Hop’s lyrical structure, the slang that fuels so much of the cleverness, the content of depth that exalts the Black man from the ignorant rapper getting hype to the introspective MC finding himself in his versed journals. Wise Intelligent brought all this with his group Poor Righteous Teachers and their four supreme LPs from 1990-1996. A group career that never wavered in its depth, represented the knowledge of self of the 5%NGE as truthfully as possible (the only misstep was superimposing our Universal flag with the Kemetian symbol of creation commonly known as the star of David) with powerful understanding that literally has built a major core of Hip Hop’s working revolutionary spirituality. With his solo records, often marred by capable yet non stellar production, he continued to build and most notably constantly challenged himself technically from varied flows, patterns to dexterity. All this whilst continuing to amazingly innovate patois enhanced vocalizing. Essentially, Wise Intelligent was lost in his own illness in the #DarkAges where Hip Hop scores began to dilute and/or drift in quality and the deeper lyricism and MC showmanship was no longer coveted.
Enter the God Gensu Dean, part of this #InvisibleRenaissance, a brother who is just as unapologetically Black in Booming his Bap. Led by strong duet LPs as 2013’s Abrasions with Planet Asia and the compilation LP R.A.W. last year, Gensu Dean samples what we’ve heard, never heard and anything in between. With an affinity for the sharp snare and a surrounding clean where the basslines and drum kicks that elevate the mined guitar licks, piano bursts or string blessings he fuses, Gensu with Wise Intelligent produces an essential LP in both their catalogs.
With just build numbered songs and two skits, the concentration of depth is enormous and with no guest features, it is entirely thematically driven by one of Wise Intelligent’s greatest attributes here at its acme. That is that he has no fucks to give and will speak the truth with proofs of insight. Political correctness, the half assed nature of so many MCs and rappers today, whether ill skilled and well meaning or trash fueled malice, the #RespectFAKE universe where our ears are helled into, only magnifies in contrast to the power of Wise’s purifying boldness. As on “G.O.D.”, he builds, “Who cares if Obama cares/No, I am not a Black apologist/and if you God then do what the knowledge is/that flag ain’t matching with your outfit/Fag swag, I’m glad Lord Jamar outed it…” Or on “Black Fear,” he bombs them with, “Black power ain’t ours/niggas scared to be about it/black bentley, poppin bottles, smashing white supermodels/black rapper rapping about this manufactured nigga shit/black six hour with piranha grip pistol whip/black business music model: manage master, slave ship…”
The toughness of this record can’t be understated from the beyond battle bars of “Wtf?” (“I know how you got to be this dumbed down manufactured rapper that your white fans now cheer/this is why you sound scared can’t articulate race based hate cause some white folks own you”) to “Damn” where he waxes on the disappointment at the exposed savagery of Bambaattaa’s pedophlia and abuse along with the weak (and more so confusing) response to it all by the absolute GOAT candidate KRS-One (“So broken hearted when the hood reported niggas I admired as a youngin/touching youngins/nothing short of shattered/used to think the culture mattered/had no idea other niggas I respected kept it covered up for years/what do the student when his teacher is dismissive of the abuses/music movements can’t be that important…”). Do the knowledge. These are truths that no one is speaking and none have with the artistry as profound and Wise. That KOS ultimately becomes completely mixed into the commentaries, builds and battle bars to produce hardcore attack that wields itself as non-preachy. A large reason for for that being his techs.
On G.O.D., the techniques displayed put him back into our minds, from one of the most underrated, ignored and missed, to a deserved discussion as a GOAT candidate. Begin with an amazingly ill stuttered skipped rope rhythm, filled with internal rhymes, altered words, stretching phrasing and inflecting throughout on “We Are,” he “With wise words i wreck Jerz/i deserve to be heard/taught Gods, I birth Earths/I spat truth for Black youth/built dudes who built schools/with these jewels I di-fuse/I taught Gods behind bars/when they were released they taught more…” The differentiations in his double time flow from “Amen” that never wavers in speed to “Ooh Wee (Shakiyla Pt. 4)” with its slowed whispers and fluctuations for the emotionality. Wise’s ability to master speed in his rhymes allows him to alter them constantly by mere inflections as on the classic title track where the verses come in as carefully inflected statements then dives in amazingly to a higher speed, “But let’s get back to the point and purpose of our album, a mist to the surface/ like these swift and changeable currents/ then distill it back to the Earth in contradiction to all your worthless/serving a purse/ and merchant purchase/ who have done got a write to service/the Earth is spinning out of course…” The abnormal amount of clarity and enunciation where nearly all of his verses can be figured at such high speeds with double and tripled flows is almost never achieved.
All of this written to Gensu Dean’s Boom backdrops is as Wise Intelligent has said, “water by which I put my vessel.” A complex vessel that sails in such variations and with content so potent, the tracks have the pressure of re-engaging us after every exceptional Wise performance. They do too. They may be in the addictive 1,2 thud bass drums with a mere tinkle of digi keys of “Black Fear,” the piano riddling and guitar waddles through a long booming bassline’d break with an extremely sharp snare on “Damn,” the womps and deep boom and tisked snare on “We Are,” the thick rock guitar smashes with the bassline leaving late on “G.O.D.,” or the hype plodding keys and break bounce with random high long snares on “Ever So Lightly.” Gensu has done what DJ Muggs has done Planet Asia or what Large Professor has just done with Cormega. Inspire a long player extended thematic illness of extreme focus from an MC. It all borns another supreme album that absolutely ranks with the PRT classics of the 90’s.
…Will we just keep crying we woke in the midst of snoring?
All praises due the great oxymoron, the #RespectFAKE matrix?!
Cause niggas in these hamlands
be taking care of bloodsuckers in the ICU.
That Intellectual Coon Unit,
where morons load on oxy like “muslim-gods,”
Praying and playing supreme backed by the Rothschild Family Dancers
Fard Finders Band
My brothers woke on only two eyes,
don’t believe the pheno-hype,
we won’t let Yacub’s sequel be quilled.
So them trans-real airlines won’t fly into rooms to rest in pieces
Slamming them stages singing scholar’s ballads that duet tricks and knowledge.
Alarmed spotlights are now on I, Blackheart man,
Debarge tone, Lavoe lingo,
with a serenade of cream clash in firewood of burnt bridges
No roads I walk for a woke that just a wily wake
Nigga, it’s Knowledge-Of-Self or Bust!
#LOVEandLOYALTY A #LoLife
The organization of these principles around a counterculture, an expressive arts of creation that uplifts the ideas and thoughts of an oppressed people, is why I’m an honored builder amongst legends, knighted by heroes of Medina (Rakim Supreme Shabazz Allah/Rudy Lo, Thirstin Howl the 3rd, Bonz Malone) to further create in my element as a Hip Hop Writer of #ArtOnArt & #ScienceOnMusic. So the world may find love that locks in with the action of loyalty though they may never find another writer with my kind of grammar…
Representing the pillars of:
Peace, Sunez Allah