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Wednesday, June 24, 2009

for a lavender...rose

Past Out

Verse One
Lilac roses look at lingered scars, past out
Cast away the remnants of what seemed a crippling doubt
Since there was nothing there to make leaves grow
Rooted here and deciding to purposefully let go
All that was molding the future of waiting possibility
What was will stay so chose to leave lived lives be

Rose was healed and loved still
Living beyond her past days, no one else will

Verse Two
Lavender rose noticed old decisions collecting dust, past out
Stronger now to see what those choices were truly about
Part of the plan to make a flower exist in thrive
Harsh seasons meant to weather leaves, keep bloom alive
So mighty survivor took rough lesson and unsure breeze
All for the moment to come when a mind would be at ease


So in the blooming days rose became glorious
Something for any to behold with proud eyes
Far beyond the past things
So much stronger still

Interlude plays


Verse Three
Pale purple rose, thankfully you fail to past out
Through every sadness setback, every yell and shout
Most others may have fallen in the lights of what went before
Yet a tattered rose held strong and so much more
To finally see the sunshine after the rain
Finding a smile in futures after pasts of pain


There are many nicknames that I have for the people close to me...



Cam Ski Ro




ONE FRIEND is called by me a lavender rose. I call her that because she is beautiful, different than a lot of likewise beauties. Through three songs I have told her's hopinmg the next one allows me to continue it to a happy ending.

ANALYSIS- "Angie Baby"

"Angie Baby" is a popular song that was a number-one U.S. hit for Australian singer Helen Reddy. It hit #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart at the end of December of 1974 and became one of Reddy's biggest-selling singles. The song also topped the U.S. adult contemporary chart, the singer's fifth #1 on this chart and was also her first and only UK hit, where it peaked at #5.

The song's cryptic lyrics have inspired a number of listener theories as to what the song is really about, and Reddy has refused to comment on what the true storyline of the song is, partly because she has said she enjoys hearing other listeners' interpretations. Reddy has also said that "Angie Baby" was the one song she never had to push radio stations into playing.

Singer/songwriter Alan O'Day finally revealed in 1998 that the "crazy" heroine in the song had "magic power" and "special abilities", and that he had deliberately blurred the lines between fantasy and reality. However, he still declined to give a detailed explanation of what happened to the boy in the song. Reddy herself had joked that the boy had become "a sound wave", an explanation that O'Day later refuted.

You live your life in the songs you hear
On the rock and roll radio
And when a young girl doesn't have any friends
That's a really nice place to go
Folks hoping you'd turn out cool
But they had to take you out of school.
You're a little touched you know, Angie Baby

Lovers appear in your room each night
And they whirl you across the floor
But they always seem to fade away
When your daddy taps on your door
Angie girl, are you all right
Tell the radio good-night
All alone once more, Angie Baby

Angie Baby, you're a special lady
Living in a world of make-believe
Well, maybe

Stopping at her house is a neighbor boy
With evil on his mind
'Cause he's been peeking in Angie's room
At night through the window blind
I see your folks have gone away
Would you dance with me today
I'll show you how to have a good time, Angie Baby

When he walks in the room, he feels confused
Like he's walked into a play
And the music's so loud it spins him around
'Til his soul has lost it's way
And as she turns the volume down
He's getting smaller with the sound
It seems to pull him off the ground
Toward the radio he's bound
Never to be found

The headlines read that a boy disappeared
And everyone thinks he died
'Cept a crazy girl with a secret lover who
Keeps her satisfied
It's so nice to be insane
No one asks you to explain
Radio by your side, Angie Baby


The Twilight Verses, Entry I: Bad Taste

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

The State Of Things...



Of the two albums, which do you prefer?

T.I.-I'm Serious or T.I. vs T.I.P.
50 Cent-Get Rich Or Die Tryin' or The Massacre
**I could go on FOREVER but I'm trying to make the point...**

Taking nothing away from the albums that follow the debut but sometimes it seems that the second or any preceeding album lack some of the fire that that debut seemed to have. It is sometimes an ugly truth that the same artists you loved from their first album doesn't usually stay the same. They mostly become commercial caricatures of themselves or don't put the same energy into the next. This is just me speaking on that.

That made among flashing lights and crimson carpet sold origins years ago to be drone in the machine
True art appreciations from the beginning fans call screams and pleading for the returns to the green
When words were real and not rehearsed verses in the acts and scenes of the dumb down recited almost stalely
Back then when that beat was lacerated cut raw and played by the masses on the daily
The street strung sounds got the notices of the gamed musical and he heeded their siren call, to fanatics promising
That this beast snake that sculpted so many into model lies would not force he into compromising
So the verbal stayed same for long enough to pacify the loyalist masses
Later when the gripping monster finally squeezed the thirst from his heart, the loyal were made in braying asses
Betrayals it seemed as the hero of the hometowns turned into the solo thing he promised never to be
Here and now the baton that was dropped harder than hard so I guess it's up to me
We differ but similar selves strive now I do this thing so that my name is remembered as if hieroglyphics carving
Different because he sits plumped full at the King's table almost done, I am ready and willing as I walk among the living zombie starving
Plan be fed but eat small portions so that the slenderer contender stay the same ravenous hungered soul
But sooner or later even the hungriest get fed to the point where they lose control
I could get fat and complacent, regarding promises and supporters as not part of the plan
And sooner rather than later this alike almost will be the verse of the new neighborhood savior man

PS: Chck out my YouTube channel at Good stuff...

Sunday, June 7, 2009


Another friend of mine that I often collaborate with on my songs is a guy called Eternity!, The thing I like most about Eternity! (as well as the QZA) is the fact that they push my style to be better as far as my lyricism goes. When I collaborate with either I know damn well to bring my A-game. Here is an example of that. This is a piece by Eternity! called Pumpin' Grace featuring me. Tell me what you think.

Pumpin' Grace

Caution, dangerous curves ahead
Your sultry sashay and swishing hips
Lulling me back from divinity
And right into your arms, where you want me to be
You got a gentle glide of femininity
That clouds my morals, fades the path
I'd follow that ass to hell and back
Screaming the whole while
Because it feels like so much ecstasy
You're gaping, kitten, wide open and ready
The armor piercing rocket
Shot straight up your midsection
Devouring your soul, cuddling together
You are a life form of merry notion
And I'm your god, rigid and stiff
Your peculiar swooshes, your seductive poses
Those hills that climb, and the valleys
Oh, those valleys, so ready for exploring
So I'm the spelunker, digging your caves
Working my way around inside
And causing you to come, screaming to the stars
Your vagina is a watergun
That sprays me dead in the eye
I lap your fragrant juices, it tastes sweet
I cocked the magnum, ready to shoot
But you gotta catch it all, baby
You gotta swallow me down, and love it
We were made for each other
These bodies chose this rhythmic entanglement
So we bump and grind, stick and move
Sway in the wind, or attune to heaven
Our selves and souls, dwindling in higher planes
Through sheer ingenuity, perfect connectivity
I collide with you, crashing against your shores
Feeling your waves vibrate my ocean
As we fuck like animals
Or make love, like angels...

So you a cunning linguist, right?
My cunnilingus got you gripping me vice like Miami
Tubbs and Crockkett while I cock it...
Did I say cock? Shit, I'm more about deep sea diving
Driving Latin lings below surface like Cousteau
Stop? Never, she say go until until the story climaxes
To the Mighty Max like maybe she do
Paralyze your arm, slur your speech in my stroke
No joke, me make my pencil disappear
In palaces longing for mattress mumbo jumbo
Get 'em hot like gumbo, baby...don't forget my crawdads
Strong bad, give pure ecstasy, no pill thrill
But maybe the greatest ever you had
Guarantee a lifetime of your lips calling me second dad
Blow a horn later, Sanz...are you a Horatio maybe?
Fellatio flutes ain't give her no choice but to play me
Make him cum to the point since he tapped your well
Struck gold in her perfect caves amid the yells
"I'm about to come", she me there sooner rather than later
So I did...not a building but call 'em facilitator
Of fuck fantasy
And love land litany
The best was her desire...but instead you're getting me
A speed demon tongue faster than Cort been Quick and Dead
Split legs like banana tricks and give good....instead?
Or when strong shoulders got legs propped like piece of the set
No Rushen to forget-me-nots since you never may forget
Me giving long strong lovin' by the minute, second, even hours
For the hope that your Middle Earth can stand against the Dark Tower

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

The Q + L Sessions: 2nd Entry

If I'm not mistaken, the first time that myself and Quinton collaborated was when I was working on one of my first albums (LIVE @ Dirtyfoot's) and I needed something different for a song I was working on-"The Lion And The Warrior". He contributed a stellar verse. Here it is:

Where’s your artistic skin?
Got sonnets to mend the hearts of men
And women, I'm tripping on intimate sin again
Zen swimming in yin
Reunited with Lu to ignite a truth, it seems
From snot-nosed seeds, we rose above the trees
With souls to the loose-leaf, now men seeking the solace
Paw-prints on knowledge, sharpening my thoughts to abolish unpolished so-called MCs and scholars
None equal to my lethal pauses, my peoples and I leading and teaching on the crest of the arrested conscience
Confetti crews steady peddling and looping the petty poop
I shoot my heady to Betty Boops and machete swoop the brethren not on my wisdom tooth
I'm too feathery to cope with the coop
I got a group that's betting on me to renew the sky's blue
Eternity ahead of me, I'm ready to rewrite history, spread the message to unlock genius's mystery and spark a better breed than we could dream
Plethora of cranium electric, feed off my essence
Strive to be the best man, if they never notice, it’s a blessing
The stride of a silent sage, he lived his days his way

At first reading, the wordplay blew me away (and still does to this day. So whenever I have a verse or when he has an idea, we bounce it around as awritten freestyle that usually comes out pretty well. Like this:

He's Helter,
I'm Red Skelter
Let’s help 'em
Like 2 Red Skulls
Young bucks get Bucky'd
Welcome to pirate radio
Like Pyrex we bake these flows funky
Girl, go on my diet
Try my bacon loaf love meat
She tastes lovely
I'm a granola Goya,
Hippie Hillary with the hips on my Thoia Thoia,
"Boy oh Boy! Boink me"
Politely ask is cosplay your kind of kinky math
She preceded to exceed my dreams in a Barney mask
Darn, he's crass,
Don't cross my orny path
You ducks, I'm the Don Donald
Daffy as (Uncle) Scrooge's laugh

Trimmed trick off a trio of Huey, Dewey, and Louie
Truly more ducks than dodging
Curtis capers number nine with bullets
Captain Black Sparrow, savvy?
Aboard a broad, more dame than bitch
A switch of the tongue
Neither French nor cunnilingus, mere spit
Still making the rounds
Doc Feelgood Black, DeLorean daddy cousin got ‘em cumming
Nah…rather running, bowed down knee to forehead
Again said? Again said, lost in the freaky arithmetic
Spread, maybe Andre or almost peanut butter to slick say her role
STD envy to infect the masses, the Q & L session over…end of classes

2 QB's shooting for cuties
Don't care if you got 2 D's
Or if you're flat like 2D
We stay humble
Swingers with stingers, these bees bumble
I need a girl to coach me and drop it easy like a fumble
Share your fungi with a fun guy
Its cool
I'm geeky, you're cheeky and a lil' cunt shy
Crosseyed Cyclops in hightops,
A lonely pupil waiting for a dot to top me like one I
Lucius and Q spew ill game like Bruce Bruce and Lil' Wayne