“I royally married into most legendary bloodsuckers of all time!”
“We flipped our mystery god into our Church of Beyonce!”
“No, no, she/he can’t rap but I love his/her hustle!”
There is a pseudo-progress of the #TransReal that has campaigned themselves beyond measures ever seen. Artists that promote themselves eons better than any label staff yet can be be out sung, out rapped and out played by any brother or sister on the streets with so much love for the music they never would engross themselves into it without the honor of years of training. It’s all a #RespectMyFAKE way that veils this #InvisibleRenaissance, this decade of the 2010’s that has seen artists and music, below, and more so, above the mainstream that have made music that honorably and amazingly matches the golden era of recorded music, the 90’s.
As it’s almost over, the saddening effect of a justifying destruction that is #RespectFAKE have made the badly created song a standard. J’Moris, out of Texas, comes out with “K.A.M.” and hails himself a “product of his environment” in his bio. What environment? The sales of your mind, the mind that will only be a product, of that environment that is only the club via their label and into said bank account. Rich rappers and killers is all I hear from artists in a genre nearly 40 years being consistently recorded. These things happen in our oppressed streets, them deaths. Pockets really do fatten the wrong way, them sales. So tell it better. “What you know about them streets?” Nothing personally, the entire world could answer. But a whole fucking lot from classics upon classics from Raekwon through Scarface and back to Brownsville’s KA.
J’Moris actually flows actual words, with clarity, jingling through–well, a fucking jingle tingle tickle of a keyboard pringling that chips through the same fucking lightning fast multi-plucked high hats. If J’Moris is lucky, Atlanta the series, will play his song through one of its many superb scenes meant to satire the music all while the majority of the viewership will continue to hail the fecal tracks as that next shit. To turn a countercultural music into a mere subculture, you take the setting of the music lyrics into a new cipher. So this out of place awkwardness of talking killer shit in a club is now after 20 solid years of doing it, has made the most toughest talk comfortable enough to introduce the most lily white character actors as they embark on serious moves in the urban city drama. “K.A.M.” is a pop song, a modern song, where most ears will only hear outdatedness until it blows up, that turns our most savage pursuits into a jingle for gentrifiers’ posturing, posing and positioning us out of our own cultural expressions. Nice fucking work, J. I bet you was just being a real nigga but the song put you in the ER. Nigger music for the other man and his billboards.
#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 (creative author/principled journalist/honoring historian) 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…
Living and sharing the pillars of:
Peace, Sunez Allah