Its been too much focus on war, war and more war…I have long neglected my eagerness, my obligation, to share with others a reminder of proper hippetyhop. Which is even more important in these ghoulish times of slimy mongs puffing joints and nodding their heads as their prime ‘appeal’…And so, without further ado, I begin my aural voyage, hopeful of others joining me, with Jeru. A man a close chum met many moons ago, and yet his long held admiration was dismissed, because he was white. Does this make me appreciate Jeru less? Not in the slightest. I admire his zeal, though disagree with his racism. His flow remains…galactic class.
Whilst I still to this day enjoy and bounce along to the Jeru wrath of the math, I find myself steered towards, by the winds of old times, the headshots crowd>>>
Sess was one of the slickest emcees who was ended before his time. Every rhyme he poured into the mic was purrrrrfect. Maybe his legacy was meant to be this way. And his crowd…they were a collection of wicked men living life proud, naked, wild and free, and blessed with the capacity to bring their story to verse and bounce…
How I get from there to here, might make sense to some…
Lif. An outcast poet pouring out his verse in the shadows.
Enough of the wicked beats and heartfelt, cursory helpful of intelligent, bouncy prose. I need to add Spirit to this symphony. Meaning.
Sage is not saying look at me. He is saying Look at THEM.