The News story exclusive at eleven always been led astray Black/Brown youth robbing what ain’t theirs and ruining the quality of life.  Attached by the sidebar caster casting a root of blame shame for the subhuman rhyming promos of violence on hypnotic boomboonayo.  But booms been wooed away, coons have booned and like that—Ayo! the story is now hell heroes today– those devils that stand their ground zimmering. 


 If there ever was a time for a score to spark a new choir of youth it’d be today.   Every Hip Hop word that Premiere’s here is now more a mandatory archive of the last great works and not the ever emerging shine of the purest talents.  Regardless of the mode of war print, Broken Home’s Spit Gemz is one of the rare literally resurrecting Hip Hop lyricism.  His story begins as the News story exclusive but now is part of this music’s vital history this entire decade.  With “E. Nygma,” he has another song that serves as an immediate proof of his raw writing talent, his gifted insights and vocal intensity funneled through a slowed rolling break of menace punctuated by a mere emphasizing keyboard touch.

Gemz propels philosophical ponderings that burst out of battle declarations.  Again, he defies his razored rasp with articulation naturally bending words to give the sound of perfect rhymes. Often Gemz here doesn’t abandon the rhyme sound of the bar prior; instead, he uses a similar sound to propel flow into the next bar.  As he does rhyming “simulation” with “information” including assonance on the beginning with “assimilate” (“Manufactured by the same ones who make the simulation/Assimilate the information”).  His word choices are filled with cleverness and depth (i.e. “auto-sarcophogy” instead of self-destruction).  The battle bars are cryptically encoded (i.e. the Biblical Revelations reference to Seal Two) as they are metaphorized dynamically (“I’m married to the streets, deep brass knuckle wedding ring”).  Aside from some of noted, among many, techniques, the understanding shared are aphorisms infused on breakbeat from the confusion between the depiction of God and the reality of man (“God say don’t be jealous but he a jealous God/Man act just like devil it’s hard to tell ‘em apart”) or the folly of man in a self-perpetuating cycle (“We all victims of manipulated frequencies/Ionospheric vomit out the sky induce inequity/ Man keep sinning/man keep repenting”).  As the greatest of MCs his battle bars have a peak of grandeur that is supreme (“Every bar’s a page, I write a book on a word”) are to be quoted for years.

These are the powering parts but the storied sum is an ever new and casting theme of an MC pulling plugs violently in the matrix– a vanguard leader in creating counter-cultural Hip Hop Art.


Max on the diamonds, cash ‘em in on the lockout

It’s all in the back and the shoulders, word to the knockout

Mash with the pasta and tuna/ Ahk, I’m a rock out/

Socks out, house tee/ the city’s my house, G/

You freaks/ all exposed like cheeks/ on South Beach

Game full of slick opportunists and dick riders

Fame make the grass seem greener to a switch sider

Shame last longer than the pain if you slid by us

That’s why we bang for the ninjas that stick by us

God say don’t be jealous but he a jealous God

Man act just like devil it’s hard to tell ‘em apart/

Seal Two: Red Horse, fire and sharp steel/

Peel through lead bone, admire the God’s skill

Eat what I kill and pillage a foul nation

Train young Black cops/ Black ops/ Play Station

Manufactured by the same ones who make the simulation

Assimilate the information

Take a minute if you need it, Rewind the track back, it’s like reading

Every bar’s a page, I write a book on a word, That’s word on everything

Broken Home everything

I’m married to the streets, deep brass knuckle wedding ring

Translated for the people/turning emotion into a thought into a cinema

Wait ‘til you see the prequel

Man’s laughter/ is manslaughter/ I see through

Your shades like Venetian/ it’s a feast/and I’m a beast through

Ironically while I’m speeding/trying to find a way to be/ without being/ one with these demons

We all victims of manipulated frequencies

Ionospheric vomit out the sky induce inequity

Man keep sinning/man keep repenting

I Father, Hail Mary a couple times you in the building

Clean slate/G’s wait I mean for Pete’s sake

You mean we can do this shit again/that’s sweet/Great!

Horror story lifestyle/ child/ you been deceived

The story sounds corny since the file’s been retrieved

Believe/in what you will/ignoring it is a fantasy

Stress from suppression is a vessel which cancer brings

We’re bred to embrace aut-sarcophogy

Prophecies are written by the same ones who prove them

Bloodlines deep rooted

Same gun you holding invented and manufactured by your enemy