Senses to sense
the rebellion of the sensing
with searing senselessness.
By the sights of poured Hennessy I’d never consume.
Baji Chiew be my tonic,
keeps my fingers with words,
lets my hands crunch together to fight hate.
See, I do the knowledge,
a beige brown number 4, the lizard.
Eyes blink slow to espy all the small glasses that clang in celebration
another moment with senses.
So I see so sensibly,
sensimilla seedlings sanding the floors
that meet the soles,
a soul so greezi it glides
through the terrors of the times,
a joy to tough people
that turn them so.
The brother Greezi Amiin monikers as a fucking greaseball so you wonder what angst he holds. We been so badly programmed by manners marshalled to us that pure arts of dark Black comedy. The kind of laughs that thump tough in the street and somehow become the smirks, chuckles and laughed bursts that remind us our oppression sure get us to make some ill shit.
A fucking greaseball too cause he uses Hip Hop with love but the sloppy pop consumer trapped in the niche markets wont get he lives it counter culturally. He don’t give a fuck if you dug, found and chopped it. He is a self professed beat maker only caring to uniquely stamp his records. Blasphemous and yet the integrity is preserved. One of the most enjoyable contradictions I’ve heard in years because the line over into hypocrisy is erased. His vocal style is all his from the intense enunciation to his pitch fluctuating inflections. His verses always seem to be at that edge like right when Coltrane is about to go from solo to endless solo or right when Johnny Gill’s neck veins reveal and he’s about to tell her wants to show her something. There is this peak that most MCs crescendo to whereas Greezi starts from and fluctuates down and back up like headphones almost about to return to the essence, in and out of Boom. Except here, Greezi keeps slapping the bap up again.
Blasphemous, this is an album he calls it but most of these tracks he jacked. So most may have no idea what a young rising master I see Amiin as since he has a beat gift to give played out samples a new chiseling (i.e. refer to his produced tracks on Juxx Diamondz’ 2014 Juxx Season LP under the name Akindele Jones). So I really could’ve sworn he fucked with these instrumentals but he told me he went greaseball on these. And I’ll take it here because the world needs to hear this intrigue immediately, sooner rather than later but I want all of yall to get him to fuck with these chops and digs like I know he can. Trust the God.
But I tell ya, he’s gotta get some respect, just as Rodney intros him to begin. The skits turn the LP into a fun ride but Skillastrator tosses them after the first five listens and I repeat those thirteen tracks back and forth. The declarations rip intensely as the bonus track, “Cuckoo!!!” (“I rap like ‘where’d you find him? He be losing it”/I know you had a plan, I ain’t mean to ruin it”). The features, from real MCs he truly respects offer the feeling mutual with great contrast. Napoleon Da Legend on “Misconstrued” is such a differentiation of styles from NDL’s verbose flowing lyricism, in an absolute peak in this 2018, whereas Greezi tip toes, hops skips through bars (“sweeter than my woman friends, must be smoking estrogen”). Shit! They make commas for me to fucking show you how he dances it looks like the bouncing ball on the lyrics went rabid. Rim, one of the most cleverest MCs to emerge this #InvisibleRenaissance, reminding us how smart his mentor Sean Price (#RememberedInPerfection #RIP) was to build with him, offers incredible quotables (“Tabasco, most of you niggas rhyming from the back hoe/you don’t keep it lit/you just chewing tobacco…”) on “Dark Stout Backwoods” as Greezi matches with the similes that keep my wiki tab open and I been saying “I’ll flame you with the biscuit” the Greezi way for the past week for no reason. As a third proof to bring understanding on the love the MCs gave Greezi, we can look no further than the Queen Honey Dinero on “Honey Gramz,” as she is so perfectly in the pocket versing, “my jewelry’s religious went from gold rosaries to Arabic inscription with no confusion…”
And alone, “The Plot Thickens” with its stuttered break yet tempered groove, let Greezi drop his punchlines with a very subtle monotone. “Greezi Osiris” he battle bars tough while he boasts comedically interpolating pop references through “5th Element.” The only man to say shit like, “I spit crack all over your forehead/I’m hungry/I could kidnap all of your cornbread/come on, Fred, I make fire like Flintstone/I hit you with a greaseball full of brimstone/you don’t want it, I could see it all in your skin tone…” as on “Far Gone,” a character of characters.
With development and even more care to show all of his gifts as his beatmaking wizardry, Greezi Amiin is an MC that, I truly see, can make works as endearing and memorable as Biz Markie and Ol’ Dirty Bastard. This Soylent Green LP is his first absolutely LP’d fun proof of hardcore Black comedy rhymed wax.
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