reality is reality but once inspected a duality. flesh and soul. lies and truth. live life with one eye of social conscienceness and one eye with faith in God. Catholic. Rapper. Engineer. making the world a better place every day.or so i try.
20051122
It ain't eZ, being mE
I take a shot of Henessey now I'm strong enough to face the madness Nickel bag full of sess weed laced with hash Phone calls from my niggaz on the, other side Two childhood friends just died, I couldn't cry A damn shame, when will we ever change And what remains from a twelve gauge to the brain Arguments with my Boo is true I spend mo' time with my niggaz than I do with you But everywhere it's the same thang, that's the game I'll be damned if a thang changed, fuck the fame I'll be hustling to make a mill-ion, lord knows Ain't no love for us ghetto children, so we cold Rag top slowin down, time to stop for gas Beep my horn for a hoochie with a proper ass, uhh It ain't easy, that's my motto Drinkin Tanqueray straight out the bottle Everybody wanna know if I'm insane My baby mama gotta mind full of silly games And all the drama got me stressin like I'm hopeless, I can't cope Me and the homies smokin roaches, cause we broke Late night hangin out til the sunrise gettin high Watchin the cops roll by It ain't easy... that's right
It ain't easy, being me Will I see the penitentiary, or will I stay free It ain't easy, being me Will I see the penitentiary, or will I stay free
Lately been reminiscin bout Peppermint Schnapps in Junior High hit the block Keep an eye on the cops while D-Boys slang rocks It's the project kid without a conscience, I'm havin dreams of hearin screams at my concerts, me all my childhood peers through the years tryin to stack a little green I was only seventeen, when I started servin fiends And I wish there was another way to stack a dollar So my apoli', casue these hard times make me wanna holler Will I live to see tommorrow, am I fallin off? I hit the weed and then proceed to say fuck all of y'all Ain't nobody down with me I'm thuggin, I can't go home Cause muh-fuckers think I'm buggin, so now I'm in this high powered cell at the county jail Punk judge got a grudge, can't post no bail, what do I do in these county blues Gettin battered and bruised by the you know who And these fakes get to shakin when they face me Snakes ain't got enough nuts to replace me Sittin in this, livin hell, listenin to niggaz yell Tryin to torture em to tell, I'm gettin mail But ain't nobody sayin much, the same old nuts is makin bucks while these sluts is gettin fucked They violated my probation, and it seems I'll be goin on a long vacation, meanwhile It ain't easy No it ain't easy
It ain't easy, being me Will I see the penitentiary, or will I stay free It ain't easy, being me Will I see the penitentiary, or will I stay free
The CD finally came in today. I ordered ImmortaL Technique's first Album Revolutionary VoL. 1 and I just started kikin it. not too pretend to give an in depth review of it or anything, but this CD is more Raw and definately underground feel than Revoloutionary VoL 2. His Lyrics are murder to any mark, flow unstopable, and his beats aren't as melodic with guitar and piano and trumpets, but its got hard repetive beats that are so true to hiphop. Here's the song that I heard the first night I ever heard of him at my friends house and it converted me to a great admirer of his. The name of this song is 'Poverty of Philosophy'. and it's more like just straight talking over a beat, than a song or spoken word or rapz.
Most of my Latino and black people who are struggling to get food, clothes and shelter in the hood are so concerned with that, that philosophising about freedom and socialist democracy is usually unfortunately beyond their rationale. They don't realize that America can't exist without separating them from their identity, because if we had some sense of who we really are, there's no way in hell we'd allow this country to push it's genocidal consensus on our homelands. This ignorance exists, but it can be destroyed.
Nigga talk about change and working within the system to achieve that. The problem with always being a conformist is that when you try to change the system from within, it's not you who changes the system; it's the system that will eventually change you. There is usually nothing wrong with compromise in a situation, but compromising yourself in a situation is another story completely, and I have seen this happen long enough in the few years that I've been alive to know that it's a serious problem. Latino America is a huge colony of countries whose presidents are cowards in the face of economic imperialism. You see, third world countries are rich places, abundant in resources, and many of these countries have the capacity to feed their starving people and the children we always see digging for food in trash on commercials. But plutocracies, in other words a government run by the rich such as this one and traditionally oppressive European states, force the third world into buying overpriced, unnecessary goods while exporting huge portions of their natural resources.
I'm quite sure that people will look upon my attitude and sentiments and look for hypocrisy and hatred in my words. My revolution is born out of love for my people, not hatred for others.
You see, most of Latinos are here because of the great inflation that was caused by American companies in Latin America. Aside from that, many are seeking a life away from the puppet democracies that were funded by the United States; places like El Salvador, Guatemala, Peru, Columbia, Nicaragua, Ecuador and Republica Dominicana, and not just Spanish-speaking countries either, but Haiti and Jamaica as well.
As different as we have been taught to look at each other by colonial society, we are in the same struggle and until we realize that, we'll be fighting for scraps from the table of a system that has kept us subservient instead of being self-determined. And that's why we have no control over when the embargo will stop in Cuba, or when the bombs will stop dropping in Vieques.
But you see, here in America the attitude that is fed to us is that outside of America there live lesser people. "Fuck them, let them fend for themselves." No, Fuck you, they are you. No matter how much you want to dye your hair blonde and put fake eyes in, or follow an anorexic standard of beauty, or no matter how many diamonds you buy from people who exploit your own brutally to get them, no matter what kind of car you drive or what kind of fancy clothes you put on, you will never be them. They're always gonna look at you as nothing but a little monkey. I'd rather be proud of what I am, rather than desperately trying to be something I'm really not, just to fit in. And whether we want to accept it or not, that's what this culture or lack of culture is feeding us.
I want a better life for my family and for my children, but it doesn't have to be at the expense of millions of lives in my homeland. We're given the idea that if we didn't have these people to exploit then America wouldn't be rich enough to let us have these little petty material things in our lives and basic standards of living. No, that's wrong. It's the business giants and the government officials who make all the real money. We have whatever they kick down to us. My enemy is not the average white man, it's not the kid down the block or the kids I see on the street; my enemy is the white man I don't see: the people in the white house, the corporate monopoly owners, fake liberal politicians those are my enemies. The generals of the armies that are mostly conservatives those are the real Mother-Fuckers that I need to bring it to, not the poor, broke country-ass soldier that's too stupid to know shit about the way things are set up.
In fact, I have more in common with most working and middle-class white people than I do with most rich black and Latino people. As much as racism bleeds America, we need to understand that classism is the real issue. Many of us are in the same boat and it's sinking, while these bougie Mother-Fuckers ride on a luxury liner, and as long as we keep fighting over kicking people out of the little boat we're all in, we're gonna miss an opportunity to gain a better standard of living as a whole.
In other words, I don't want to escape the plantation I want to come back, free all my people, hang the Mother-Fucker that kept me there and burn the house to the god damn ground. I want to take over the encomienda and give it back to the people who work the land.
You cannot change the past but you can make the future, and anyone who tells you different is a Fucking lethargic devil. I don't look at a few token Latinos and black people in the public eye as some type of achievement for my people as a whole. Most of those successful individuals are sell-outs and house Negros.
But, I don't consider brothers a sell-out if they move out of the ghetto. Poverty has nothing to do with our people. It's not in our culture to be poor. That's only been the last 500 years of our history; look at the last 2000 years of our existence and what we brought to the world in terms of science, mathematics, agriculture and forms of government. You know the idea of a confederation of provinces where one federal government controls the states? The Europeans who came to this country stole that idea from the Iroquois lead. The idea of impeaching a ruler comes from an Aztec tradition. That's why Montezuma was stoned to death by his own people 'cause he represented the agenda of white Spaniards once he was captured, not the Aztec people who would become Mexicans.
So in conclusion, I'm not gonna vote for anybody just 'cause they black or Latino they have to truly represent the community and represent what's good for all of us proletariat. Viva la revolucion!
- ImmortaL TechniQue (The Poverty of Philosophy from the ALbum Revoloutionary VoL 1)
They’re attackin our people Say we’re not equal They’re not the colonists They’re the middle class keep aLL Keepin aLL the same Not using their brain to seek out what’s true just fortune and fame it’s insane to be living life so vain not understanding that we’re protecting the mind frame that’s made us aLL lame up until the point that we finally reclaim our name
What Shame!
And the blame Must be placed Squarely where it’s owed It’s already been showed We barely have a say But no way This form of life is here to stay
The Middle Class mass That has never known hunger Will not feel the zeal Or the urgency of the younger Who face’s racist places Everywhere she graces There people on the hate lists Blacks and Arabs of all ages Latinos with indigenous traces Caribbeans, Indians, Asians Oppressed by Middle class nations who have no connection or affection for each other and can’t understand when I call a stranger my brother
why bother trying to reach a new way of life when the middle class is reaching for that knife stab themselves six times straight in the back call the educated articulate socialists whack and blame the social ill on stupid shit like crack all too blind to see the full fledge attack on themselves by those who internationally ransack and they are the backbone that back every last bit of it I’m sick of it And so should you!
- JuLez (November 16, 2005.. . .written for my homeboy Ro!)
I’m not makin a name for myself I’ve already got one I’m not trying to define Just refine What I got son Rap talk Don’t got Anything on me It don’t be What define My reality See change It always comes No! It runz by my side I’m affecting it An it’s tryin to hide At every stride Tryin to shape A shape Shaper Stop acting like that You know I’ll see you later check the chilled children not worrying bout a thing they’ll accept absolutely anything you bring so why corrupt or interrupt the growth of a young pup strut real neat keep the beat with ya feet or kik it unique bring the heat off beat and keep it goin real till you think ya gonna kill every last skill that’s too ill to exist and go on and insist you’re too strong to persist your own self will implode unload n end up in a twist with your foot balled up in fist as you say good bye through a kiss.
There’s people wakin up N lookin at their hand Realizing That They’re working for the man N can’t understand When they gave uP The upper hand In the land Where therez no limits To the gimmicks The cynics will pull They sold out to the full For the power to rule And they’ll never be pleased Their disease is too deep And NO we’re not sheep Face the heat you’ll have to reap For keeping us down And cheatin our town
We’re goin to Full weight represent When makin our sound Straight pound for pound With no bounds On what we can do Releasing our imagination From media incarceration Redefine our culture To rupture What the imperial vulture Conjure
I got much tenacitY To fight Till I’m FreE Join Like two sides of a coin For true unitY No one especially leaders Should have impunitY One should account for whatever amount One’s accepted responsibLY Respond to me If I elected thee How else could we see Democracy
But fuck this shit for now, check this out. It’s from the transcript of a movie called Waking Life. It’s been around for a while and I just finally saw it a couple of weeks ago and then just bought it last night. It’s so funny. I was watchin it last night with my brother and a really good friend of mine, and I had just finished a whole bottle of wine cuz no one else wanted some, and cuz I’m down with being the only one drunk (not really, but I also don’t have that much of a problem with it either) and this movie is so intricate and detailed that I just couldn’t take it anymore. I’m like. I’ll just listen to it with my eyes closed.. . .bad sign… . and then all of the sudden fro behind me (I’m lying down sideways on the floor, in front of the TV) I can hear that my brother is sleepin. Haha ha . He’s out.. .. And so I’m like in and out too, and at one point I get up and fuck. My friend is out too. So I’m like fuck this. I wake everyone up,a nd announce that itz over. Time for bed!! Everybody up. No sense in all toturing ourselves and all.
But Anyways! The movie is crazy philosophical, like about the meaning of life, and the significance of our creation, and if we really have free will and what that means, and it all real life footage that has been turned into animation and is all dream-like. It’s pretty fuckin cool!!! So the movie is like one crazy conversation after another, after another, AFTER ANOTHER and there is absolutely not enough time to process everythin to the degree that you would want to, so it’s such a crazy ride. So here’s an exerpt of one of the first conversations in the movie, and I totally feel this one!!.. . . . One Love! ‘Creation seems to come out of imperfection. It seems to come out of a striving and a frustration. And this is where I think language came from. I mean, it came from our desire to transcend our isolation and have some sort of connection with one another. And it had to be easy when it was just simple survival. Like, you know, “water.” We came up with a sound for that. Or “Saber-toothed tiger right behind you.” We came up with a sound for that. But when it gets really interesting, I think, is when we use that same system of symbols to communicate all the abstract and intangible things that we're experiencing. What is, like, frustration? Or what is anger or love? When I say “love,” the sound comes out of my mouth and it hits the other person's ear, travels through this Byzantine conduit in their brain, you know, through their memories of love or lack of love, and they register what I'm saying and they say yes, they understand. But how do I know they understand? Because words are inert. They're just symbols. They're dead, you know? And so much of our experience is intangible. So much of what we perceive cannot be expressed. It's unspeakable. And yet, you know, when we communicate with one another, and we feel that we've connected, and we think that we're understood, I think we have a feeling of almost spiritual communion. And that feeling might be transient, but I think it's what we live for.’
I'm so fuckin broken right now. And has to do with somthin so much more than what I can understand. but if you wanna hear what my brain has to say.. . .here's a tiny bit... .. . One Love.
they spoke very little english, but knew that to communicate they would have to speak english. They hated them so much... . .not only were they the ones burning down their houses, slaughtering them and their animals in the most ruthless way possible. They were the ones stomping every bit of hope out of their will and represented millions more who didn't give a fuck about them and thought of them as less than themselves.. . .. so they yelled at these green clad soldiers to leave!!! To Leave and Never come back "Green Go!. . . Green Go!" and here only some short years later it's meaning is forgotten. The screams... . the hate.. .. as gringos pour in the gringo dolllars into their economy contributing to the largest portion of their economy. Trading their dollars for their own time, the tropical fruits blended in with local sugar cane malts and their dignity.. . . . This isn't everyone's story. But being the one recieving the fruity coctail isn't everyone's story either.
I still can’t believe That you chose to leave I wear black over my heart I can’t help But grieve And watch my chest heave Up and down At the spazmic sound of my cries My will to live dies And nothing seems real to me You now being heartbroke Chokes my air And running appeals to me It feels to be An easy way out. Facin my pain again When youR hurt I revert to Just to know how to console I insert my soul into a hole And convert my now inner peace Into pieces And exert all my work to your consolation but youR tastin somethin more bitter than what I know but are you really perched somewhere I can’t go?? I don’t even know what you’re thinking Or if you’re drinkin Hopin it’ll all go away.. . . May I stay In the fray of your mind Hold your hand Stop the sand Of the time Spell you name In blue flame And warm rain Lay there still Play a game Or proclaim to take aim at the pain shoot till it’s maimed and retrained to longer inflict what it claims. I’d look you in your eyes And promise you all My heart stops beating Just one tiny stall Az I call on the wind And the fiery stars to come blast Do away with your tears Down to the last But they’ll last. .. . .. They havvvve too Cuz you can’t cast the vast past Aside Cuz it reside Azzzz you So I pass you And you think I don’t get it Or think I don’t care those last two sentences sear me Those I can’t bare
Many times my thoughts escape And shape into somethin new So I try n contain them Maintain the same frame n view But the thoughts are all tangled All twisted n mangled And you know they’re blazin hotter Than any 3-D graffiti In the form of bright light To being dark n seedy
It just be human tendancy to swayz both ways gotta take a deep breath and look past the haze recognize that were in a maze and that at this phase we’re all lost who can put the cost owed for blowing up a mosque
To you American beast! You American cop! You’re a travesty To civilized society Time to freeze and stop! When you go abroad To another place You’re another race But the case iz You wanna be treated like Americans But you’re a fraud In the US you chase And culture you waste So you change faces Force people to act like Amercians It’s like you’re fans Of putting things in cans When you’re able Sucking out culture and identity N marking things with one label You’re one chip on the table It’s time for you to be humble You already mumble And bumble your words you’re never going to make a touchdown you’ve fumbled the world and we all saw you drop it it’s called the snowball effect and you can’t stop it Revolutionists rise Realize The time is now!
I'm young, but not that young. And likewise old. What's told is bold, never clever thoughts bought. nor sold. One Life. One Love.One End. One Begining.
i cOuLD GivE yOu raW frEEstYLe buT You wAnT suRgiCaL PReciSioN i'LL trY tO coNnecT tHe iNdiRecT dOTs buT pLease oPeN yOuR miNd n LiSTen. FiRsT sTaRt wiTh YoUR hEarT buT LeT iT ReaCH YouR hAnDs.
