on any given friday night,
a young white suburbanite,
cruises in his beamer,
into the city, bose blastin’ fiddy.
he sports the latest, greatest, hippest, dopest, phattest rags
that his daddy’s silver spoon could buy,
but that silver spoon is the very reason why.
he protests the riches that they don’t deserve,
lashes out at his very own private federal reserve.
he’s looking for some black flava,
or some brown suga’,
or some white powder,
music getting louder.
young white suburbanite,
in the middle of the night,
loses himself in another man’s culture.
not understanding the subtleties of cp time,
he hits the club way too soon,
stands around with beer in hand,
realizes that the night was not so well-planned.
but he’s fly and hip and dope and –
and thinks he’s ahead of his time,
but the reality is that he simply
got there way ahead of time.
the music swirls within his head,
and the sistas think it’s so dred
that he’s holding his own,
while out of his element.
but to his detriment,
the beer pulls him to the dancefloor.
now, whitebread ain’t so fly no more.
and we think “ooh, that’s gotta hurt!”
beer has him moving to the beats,
the sight has us fallin’ out our seats.
“yo – young white suburbanite!
some fly sista would like ta get witcha”,
but homeboy’s homeboy has had
one too many rollin’ rocks.
young white suburbanite
struggles with all his might
to get his homeboy standing upright.
now, homeboy’s homeboy wants to fight.
young white suburbanite
came to the city,
blastin’ fiddy,
lookin’ for some black flava,
or some brown suga’,
or some white powder.
whitebread
got that gangsta beat going ‘round in his head.
cruisin’ in his jet-black beamer.
he’s just trying to understand
why we always catch it from the man.
tries to understand what that’s like,
he beats a path to every open mike,
struggles to get a feel for what it’s like.
a fruitless pursuit and he can’t see why
he can never feel the pain like you and i.
he innocently protests and lets out a sigh –
“it wasn’t me and i refuse to carry that lie”.
it’s neither out of compassion,
nor because it’s popular fashion,
but, instead, because the guilt of the fathers
prey upon the innocence of the sons.
**********
on any given friday night,
deep within the urban blight,
from dusk until daylight.
lookin’ for some
black flava,
brown suga’,
white powder.
out of the gloomy mist and into the light,
comes an urban legend . . . a young white suburbanite.
copyright 2008 blackstarr
freerealm@gmail.com
Lose Yourself by Eminem
Images: silver spoon (metalmuseum.org), Rolling Rock beer (hoppsy.com), Flava (myrunkspace.com), Bey caricature (pinoypix.com), Philadelphia skyline (wordfromtheweb.com)
Cant C Me
Posted in music, Old School Flava, poetry, social commentary with tags 2pac, Afeni, All Eyez On Me, blackstarr, Can You Get Away?, Can't C Me, Death Around The Corner, drugs, freedom, genius, Hit Em Up, icons, lyrical sculptist, lyrics, music, poetry, profanity, rap, Shakur, the b word, the n word, the wordsmith's alley, Tupac, videos, violence, word manipulation, wordsmith, Youtube on December 28, 2010 by joelle blackstarrThere probably has not been a more loyal fan of Tupac Shakur than yours truly. First, though, a few “despites” –
despite the fact that I hate the “N” word and the “B” word, and
despite the fact that I am not an advocate of either profanity or violence, and
despite the fact that I am anti-drug abuse, I have always been in awe of Tupac and his musical genius.
Perhaps the one song that makes him stand out from the crowd more than any other song is “Can’t C Me”., from the CD “All Eyez On Me”. The entire song is the epitome of his musical genius, but, let’s forget the entire song – the opening verse is the ultimate in word manipulation and lyrical sculpting. In the event that you aren’t familiar with the song, you can click >HERE< for the lyrics.
Although there are probably many depths to his genius, I believe that his greatest assets were threefold – lyrics, music, and the ability to spit words out as easily as you and I breathe air. He had a peculiar penchant for re-using lyrics from previously recorded songs. Other artists have done this before him, but the way in which he did it and the meaning that his re-used lyrics brought to the songs took on a life of its own.
I cited this song from his collection because it is my favorite rap song ever, but, his repertoire was seemingly endless when it came to great lyrics, music, and spitting. A few that come to mind which, in my humble opinion, that come close to the greatness of “Can’t C Me” are “Hit “Em Up”, “Death Around The Corner” and he even did a few love songs that were worth mentioning, which included “Can You Get Away?”.
There you have it – my short and sweet tribute to Tupac. You owe it to yourself to check out this song . You can find it on Youtube, of course. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get it to load here. In the event that you want to save time, here’s a link to the song from Playlist.com: Can’t C Me. Perhaps you’ll be as impressed I have been all these years.
Afeni, wherever you are, thank you. Peace.
copyright 2010 blackstarr
freerealm@gmail.com
Photos from The Huffington Post, and The Judiciary Report.
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