Since the beginning of Hip-Hop all rappers ever wanted to be were rock stars. Like him or not, and I don’t like him, Lil’ Wayne is a rock star. he is trashing hotels with his entourage all the while hopped up on homemade narcotics and sleeping pills. I thought he would be gone by now, but he only seems to be getting bigger by the day.
I found myself liking the song ‘Prom Queen’ which I posted below after I heard it on Nah’Right. Even with the New Music Cartel tags throughout the song it still made my head nod. The lyrics are fine too so that means that Wayne didn’t write them. ‘Prom Queen’ is the story of young, unrequited love and the feeling of exultation when you see that person later in life and they are all fucked the fuck up. It is a song that triumphs in the downfall of a woman who sought love with the wrong men.
If you are thinking that is an effed up theme to champion you are right. I don’t agree with the song’s message, but as a sign of our culture it is clearly on point and in step with our overall lack of humanity. The music also rocks.
Last week while everyone was swaying to the beat of ‘My President Is Black’ and most folks were under the inaugural glow the Food and Drug Administration gave the greenlight to federally funding projects for stem cell research. This has been a controversial issue for the previous administration since stem cells are derived from human embryos. The embryos have to be destroyed in order for the cells to be extracted.
The promise that this research has been foretelling will be a futuristic leap in the healing and repair of degenerative human organs like the kidneys, liver, lungs and even the heart. Scientists believe that stem cells can repair the nerve damage and paralysis suffered by people with spinal cord injuries. What many adversaries of this technology fear is the creation of a system for human cloning. I don’t see how we can’t pursue cloning in our effort to eventually put our middle fingers up to GOD.
Science fiction has taught me many things and one thing consistently, that is the human condition in its worst state is one part hubris and the other part insanity. There is no way under heaven that this technology will not be used for bad shit. We just aren’t capable as a species of not effing something the eff up. My only hope, my only prayer, is that another one of GOD’s innumerable beautiful creations comes to this planet soon to devour us all like the shrimp feast at Red Lobster.
Yeah, I know I look like an insane alcoholic serial killer, but where is the love for insane alcoholic serial killers?
The i.C.’s are hard at work as you read this, bringing their steez to the hardscrabble NYC streets. Well actually, more well-maintained cobblestone than hardscrabble, but we are back on our grizzly while my grizzly (Adams) is still on me.
I won’t be touching my hair until Obama sends me my stimulus check. And this time it better be on some reparations type level and none of that little bitty hundred dollar nonsense. In the meantime and in between time RAFI, CAS and I will investigate exactly who is winning in this economy.
Do I need to get myself an apple cart, or I guess a pretzel cart would be the 2009 equivalent? Don’t get it twisted though everybody isn’t a fiscal sadsack right now and we need to meet the people that are winning when the media says that dark clouds are coming. Just try not to be frightened when I run up on you in the streets.
Billy X. Sunday finds the elusive truth in rap music lyrics.
If I have learned anything from all my years on this planet, it is to believe absolutely nothing I hear from the mouths of preachers or politicians. Now I am going to have to add peddling poets to that list.
The feel-good song for 2009 appears to be the Jay-Z remix verse for Young Jeezy’s ‘My President Is Black’.
Let me just say off the top that I was truly disappointed that negro Jeezy does not have a ‘Z’ anywhere in the song title when he knows good gotdamn well there should be at least one.
“What recession?” – (c) Young Jeezy
Once again Jay-Z brodies another person’s song and with the talent that he has shown us over the years he creates an anthem both simple and insipid as a sign of our times…
My president is Black
My Maybach too
And I’ll be goddamned if my diamonds ain’t blue
My moneys dark green
And my Porsche is light grey
And I’m headed for DC, anybody feel me? My first question is how does someone becomes YOUR president when you didn’t even vote?
My president is Black, in fact he’s half white
So even in a racist mind, he’s half right
If you’ve got a racist mind, you be aiight
My president is Black, but his house is all white WTF?!?
Rosa Parks sat so Martin Luther could walk
Martin Luther walked so Barack Obama could run
Barack Obama ran so all our children could fly
So I’m a spread my wings, you could meet me in the sky Martin Luther, the founder of the rap music reformation, or Martin Luther, the leader of the Black rock reformation? Anyhoo…
Already got my own clothes, already got my own shoes
I was hot before Barack, imagine what I’m gon’ do
Hello Miss America, hey pretty lady
Red white and blue flag, wave for me baby Uggh, and BeYonce taught him that.
Never thought I’d say this shit, baby I’m good
You can keep your puss, I don’t want no more bush
No more war, no more Iraq
No more white lies, my president is Black Obama won’t complete his term as president if any more of these songs are made
Jay-Z’s rendition is metrically built similar to Young Jeezy’s in that simple words are inserted with literal lightweight comparisons and contrasts. Jay-Z says no more Iraq, but you have to wonder where he plans on getting the fuel for his Porsche and his Maybach. The genius of the composition is that it is the rap music equivalent of chanting “U.S.A.”
Yeah, Barack Obama lives in the White House. “U.S.A.”
Rosa Parks, Martin Luther (King Jr. we’ll assume). “U.S.A.”
Miss America. “U.S.A.”
Four years of Black lies? “U.S.A.”
Let’s be clear, I’m not looking to hear something with the depth of the 95 Theses, or even the Letter from a Birmingham Jail because these are great and everlasting pieces of literature, you know, shit people took the time to write down. But if you really thought you had arrived at a moment in history that was truly important, why wouldn’t you use your talent to create something that is transcendent? Anybody can put some shit together that tells me what the color of their car is, and frankly, as rich as Jay-Z purports to be, I’m embarrassed that he thinks his money is still green and not something that is colorless, odorless and totally electronically manipulated. Seriously, do you think really wealthy people even sully their fingers with cash?
I’m not hating on Jay-Z either, as some of the lower life form so-called brains might utter in kneejerk unison. If there’s anyone I would want to hit the ball 450ft. over the centerfield fence, it would be the Jigga Man. He would redeem himself in my eyes from the man who created the anthem ‘Jigga My Nigga’ that I listened to a six year old sing while I stood on Fulton Street across from Albee Square Mall waiting for the B52 bus. Instead mighty Jay-Z struck out. I suppose it is equally fitting that Albee Square Mall has also been reduced to rubble. It also makes me wonder what has become of that child.
From the inauguration of what could be the first Hip-Hop president (bigger than African American), we are left wanting from everyone that was all too happy just to be at the party.
I just hope that someone will come to the artform again who respects the pad and the pen so that the true legacy will be recorded for history.
