As most of you know, I am living in South Africa. Some time ago, I was in the States when PP (my gf and another forum member) was a victim of a horrific home invasion. When I returned, after some time, I wrote this... after waking from a dream, in nearly it's final format, in one go in the middle of the night. Then I taught myself to use Audacity for the first time, borrowed and extended a Mobb Deep beat, and recorded this... it is my first rap... my first attempt at anything musically creative, recorded on my computer microphone, my first attempt at sound editing too.
I've been a lifelong hip-hop fan but never had the nerve to try myself, nor did I have a story I particularly wanted to tell. This time I did... it probably took 35 hours of work or so, and 500+ takes spliced together and I'm still not happy with it.
It's all true, but some of the views expressed are deliberately insensitive as that is part of the form of at least some styles of hip-hop writing. I got into addiction, my difficulty with painkillers, with depression, mulling over the idea of whether or not gun ownership would be appropriate for me... but mainly, it is a song about PP and her safety and my feelings of responsibility towards her safety. Below in spoilers are the lyrics.
Please be gentle... my first song... and as usual, it's much too long. About 12 minutes. Constructive criticism welcome. I would ask though, given that it is deeply personal and revealing, that nobody take advantage of my choosing to share this to try to stick the knife in. Thanks!
ON SAFETY
A real man feels it but he just plays it numb (we’re told)
A coward knows he’s BITCH, watch him FEET start RUN. (not bold)
Or he woulda' wit' the courage there to BE summoned. (but no)
Butt stooding there the man he just doesn’t SEEM like ONE. (a ho)
Type of man, E'rybody wanna BE far from
A REAL man, take a WOMAN make her FEEL like ONE,
Round the way, lotta folk ain't really ha' tha' much.
When I get that guilty feeling I go grab that Dutch.
Roll the weed up light it inHAAALE.... until I FEEL its touch.
Bang the Djembe, daddy gave me, baby it's an, old-school drum,
Motherlandin', from same place, music i love, roots come from,
ROPES are tied, around the wood, in complex knots, careful strung
stretching goatskin, wood learn to, express itself, start to hum,
One DAY I hope to PASS from the, father DOWN unto the son
So HE can bang it long after I'm dead. After I'm done, I'm done.
A five-man crew they got to work and they seemed KEEN to stay.
HOME invasion ROBberies in SPREES and getting CLEAN away.
Hit my home. Attacked my girl. The time I was a WORLD away.
By the time I hear the news, already gone a CERtain way.
CONcrete table THROUGH the bedroom WINdow. No seCURITAY,
If it land a LITTLE different MAYbe she no LIVE today.
Fully five fiends sneaking in, the night before, they peeking in,
seeking things like tv screens, they grabbed 'em. I'm not missing 'em
I've GOT the kind of riches that cannot be snatched. So LISTEN in.
Your HAbitat, is LARGEly thatched.
I'll leave the MOCKery at that. (pussy)
You're sensitive and it's a shame it's WHY you act out LIKE you act.
You're a devil/ I'm GLAD that you were BORN to poverty.
You're crooked and you're empty, filled with envy, greed, you plenty green.
You'll NEVER have the THINGS you want. The GIRLS will never BE so keen.
You NEVER knew your father so you DON'T know mascuLINity. (*sample belt snapping)
They caught you with the PROPerty. Now GO aWAY for TWO to THREE! (*cell door slams)
I hope your celly's got a whole FOOT on you and he's lonely.
I HOPE he's never COMing home... SO he HOLDS you closely.
I hope that you learn nothing! *(pause)
I HOPE you try aGAIN catch a HOT one on the BUTton!
SomeTIMES I hope it's ME who catch you frontin'.
layin in wait, in my new place, fire
TWO HOT ones at your two-face
Your crew runs, but its too late,
your brains out like tooth-paste.
Like fruit CAKES! Like BLUE LAKE !
by the time you sprung.
my NEW place got BIG gates,
and a man noting NUMber plates.
YOU'VE got a susPICious face.
A par-TI-cu-lar-ly VICIOUS case.
ANyone who SEES you knows you UP to something SHADy ace.
I hope it's some pissed oficer gives you holes that leak profligately,
With evidence, so Mama knows the killing's squeaky clean.
She barely mourns knowing it was you what "did the the naughty 'ting.
Come OFF it SEE.
It's PROphesy you SET in motion, PROPerly.
Your DEStiny is DEATH because you FUCKED with me!
YA PROBABLY. You did it to yourself, (*Radiohead 'Just' sample in background sped to tempo)
that's why "its gotta be. It's gotta be." (* Mobb Deep,"The Realist" sample off tempo)
Keep your LONG knives and your LIKElihood of Hiv aWAY from ME...
AND MINE
Probly raped an child, Satan's saving him a seat
or PLACE IN LINE,
lady feigning SlEEP, but she's not sleep or WASTIN' TIME.
Daughter's HIDing’underNEATHin’...
not makING a single soundin' even,
listening for sounds of creepin' in..
don't risk it even breathin'in'
if there's a later on'n, then there'll be time for that, and then for weepin.. THEN
Boy's on the phone to p'lice 'n all 'em...
whisperin yall better come deal witt all em.
Fearin' they comin in with spears an' all em,
ANxiously aWAITing on that GORGeous siren's SCREAMin'in'...
try'n protect the cheel-der en.
Hope the cops get here in time.
hoping that they're wheelin' in
I hope they kill scabengas even if that catch em fleein'n...
Fuck the constitution I'm not trying do the legal thin'
Not my en-em-y on would I ever wish this feel on him.
If things 'ad gone that other way my life would take new meanin' in.
3:15
Kept a hitlist, ever since I was a child
but haven't had to ADD another name in quite a while.
The family survived. So I’m a lucky man, on the path of life,
I'm trying to put the past aside, but
Every new massacre, it DOES remind,
SOME people full of j ealousy, some JUST don't LIKE our kind.
Gotta think on this survival.
Gotta keep it on my mind.
Think a different type-a-way.
Buy myself a strap and what?
strap it somewhere safe?
Should I get a starter pistol
like the starting of a race?
Call the Jakes and fire blanks?
Hope that pussy'ole intruders '
fuck on back to they own place?
But in that rare case....
Where I watch my girl die holding a pistol that ain’t live.
All it do is CLACK CLACK CLACK.
She gone already, and there ain't a thang I...
can do, can't even throw a bullet back in theory.
Nor COULD I follow HER into that REAL deep,
less it was THEM what nailed me. (too)
See my girl, see she ain’t on e for the heaters.
And me and 'em, we ain't all that 'quainted neither.
We worry bout them idle hands we worry bout teenagers.
Guns be an acquired taste, like IPA's and oysters
AcQUIRE it or GIT blast if you SQUEAMish and they're BOISterous.
That oyster boy can sna p it shut and bite your life in two bits.
Instead small SIG in the jacket 'long with two clips.
(* this verse staccato)
Its SMALL grip,
it fits CHICK hands,
dont KICK much but
she STEEL jumps when that SHIT blams.
Soon' I got her TRAINT up,
them hips squared,
Wit' BOTH hands,
that GRIP TIGHT
LOOK down that FRONT sight,
Squeeze not pull that DAMNED jam.
HITting EV-e-ry DAMNed can.
Pic-tur-ing the dead man.
That CARjacker, that RAPist, and that killer,
leak from CENter mass.
Caught themselves a SPIRAL pass.
Thrown NOT by PAYton Manning,
BUT by all that SPANDing gas.
Take a headshot of a platter,
otherwise you pass,
aim just for that big part,
SIGHTS on squeeze click blast,
Un-less he gotta vest on
but these hoes can't 'ford that.
5:00
(* this verse in triplets)
The range instructor's, goin' on, explaining that,
it's one thing to, unload into, a target that, you're aiming at...
Another thing, to look into, some eyes when they, be lookin' back.
Teach it to, your muscles, then ya kill a man, in seconds flat.
Don't hes-i-tate, because he won't.
Thinking "I said so,"
KICKing your tombstone.
No-one to talk to,
so talkin' to 'dem bones.
Sometimes don't want you
EVEN to LEAVE home.
If you ever, let a man kill you,
when you could have killed him but were too slow,
and LET me walk WITH you through the BANG and the RED
I'd never forgive you,
or me for not getting my point through about killing him dead.
There's just one of you, and about a billion of him.
And as long as it took, I'd be THERE with you.
If the shooting wasn't clean I'd clean scene with you whichu.
Weigh him down with rocks, and dump em in the lake in situ.
Or testify on my life, that everything i seen true.
Together we can do ANYTHING. That's WHY I FUCKS witchu.
*pause
When I was five, I shot a rifle, just a twenty-two.
twenty-five, shot a shotty could 'cut a man in two.
Got my carry conceal license didn't follow through.
All the heat sold out for months,
Obama'd had just come on through.
And I was "ready to die" too.
That's why I never re-tooled.
STILL ain't HELD a HANDgun in this hand
and... Before I do...
I meditate on my mood.
Do I got what it takes to withstand.
"Knowledge of self" required
before you FAST with that QUICK hand.
A moment is enough
to get you buried in QUICK sand.
GUNslingsers GOT some true RULES. (like?)
ALways be FOllowing THROUGH. (and)
NEVER be AIMing at SOMEthing (what?)
THAT you’re not WILLing to SHOOT. (word)
AND yes the SAFEty is ON, (nah) and
the GUN's in the SAFE with the LOOT. (it is?)
and IT be a RACE for that COMbo, (ya)
IF them boys EVer came THROUGH.
THEN what the FUCK I would DO? (stand)
AIM at someBOdy and SHOOT? (yup)
HOPE that no BOdy get THROUGH. (right)
HOPE that I DEAD the right DUDES? (who?)
HOPing that BOdy don't MOVE.(safe)
SCREAMing that THEY better RUN? (skate)
FAM hiding IN the bathROOM? (safe)
PRAY that DAY day never COME? (Lord?)
but READy the DAY that it DO (Yuh?)
But ch-ch-ch-CHANGES in MOOD, (word?)
All the night worrying through.
B-B-Bowie and Tupac they sung.
CH-Changes, they-they gonna come.
SomeTIMES I'm on bottom RUNG.
SomeTIMES it goes ON way too LONG.
Good TIMES run aWAY way too FAST,
Good SONGS they HELP bad times PASS.
YOUNG boys they LIVE life real FAST,
FLAMES burning HOT then they PASS.
FOL-low-ing THIS here flow CHART,
why DOES it SEEM every PATH..
Nothing lasts things fall aPART?
7:15
I hope no body ever die at the hands of my gun.
Once taken, the taking of life can't be undone.
But as soon as the paperwork sorted through...uh?
Its gon' be suicide messing with MY hon.
Or you could try "do or die" them's is the outcomes.
I'm from down South, overkill usually'll git'er'dun.
Learn to shoot it in the woods, where we don't bother none.
But would I ever emerge after that one ONE?
Bump some biggie blasting beer cans bouncing off into the bushes,
suicidal thoughts fades out... roll a spliff with kush in't.
Should man be STRAPPED up, given man brain and ting sometimes be innit? (*London/Carribean accent)
8:00
That inner voice be loud as fuck.
He won't shut up.
He knows exactly what to say to get me THE most RILED up.
He knows that when he gets his way, that when I start to self-destruct.
A twin inside the womb with me we share the dreams, of enemies,
it's chemotherapy tryin' ta poison ting inside man faster dan' it poisons me. (*London/Carribean accent.)
Silence calls out. (out to me)
Sometimes it’s too much and I still want out. (CRACK! It's over, easy)
Hit the Xanax and the weed hard and still I'm ever missing always that sweet broad. (sample: "Missing You" Puff Daddy. slow filling next line)
The one that makes the tears stop and that fear drop
and then everything that’s near holds you close around you.
Way you feel, wish you'd never feel it stop. (Ooooh.)
She says "everything’s okay"...it’s not. (bitch...)
That honey she a scoundrel. She will def-in-ate-ly clown you.
She will take your dignity and drown it in a shallow pool,
Right there right in FRONT of you, and LAUGH there’s nothing YOU can do.
She's probly got YOU laughing too. But you the BUTT you're not the SHIT.
But it's all AROUND of you.
You might have thought you found the perfect blissful state and yeah, it's true.
But she a CERTAIN kinda bitch, and soon or late,
she YANK that rug RIGHT out from under you.
THINGS you said you’d NEVER do,
you DO them and you SWEAT IT too.
You nod until it’s barely you.
And that’s the better side of you.
You know it.
You’re aSHAMED of what you THINK of...
AND of WHAT you DO.
AND of WHAT you used to DO.
AND of WHAT you used to BE.
AND for ALL the WASTEd TIME
AND for ALL that COULD have BEEN.
She'll make you wish at the same time.
that you'd never touched that first drop,
and a supply to keep you lifted for a lifetime.
But surely I can find a way to feel this good all the time, and
Still live my life and already know I'm lying.
Euphoria corrupt like power. Vampires. You let em in.
Leave an opening? It's GETting IN.
By the time you know it’s gonna catch up tya' Michael Myers
right behind ya...
You’re playing catch-up and it's always just a step behind ya.
It like Some fuckin nightmare.
If you think you got the lady licked (oh yeah right there. *orgasmic voice)
that's when that tire pops, (*staccato)
that black ice,
that tailspin,
that fishtail,
that traction gone
spill my whisky and my fishscale,
wheels spinnin’
Now room's spinin'
with no breaks and no body with ya,
so it's just you (and that monster whicha)
rearview shows (he's trying to gitcha)
collision course (we're gonna hit bra)
That ice is smooth and
so’s that Taurus,
And you're headed,
swiftly for it.
The smell of powder, (*staccato, triplets speeding up)
BAGS deployed it.
Metal crunches...
loudly Glass it...
shatters, the car...
flipping Triple...
jumps like Nastia...
Liukin, limber
fucking Russian
lady, timber
falling rushing
lazy River
transports sawmill
babies hither.
Drug of choice for those missed the world over.
I will smoke a four leaf clover
for every genius keeled over.
Too many artists to name and too to be sad naming em.
MARC fuckING Aurelius! TOM the FUCKing JEFFerson!
Drank their fucking LAUDanum. (lawdamercy)
The man on every C-Note did it.
William Wilberforce
ended slavery in Britain. Dit it lit!
NELson wrecked NaPOLean while high as fuck!
Chopin wrote his SYMPHonies while GETting UP,
Heroin's the bank.
Detox is the repossession.
She’ll extend you credit til you in too deep... ('den man come in)
Your debt is growing meanwhile the product’s growing IMpotent.
Suddenly YOU fall, can’t GET UP without SPENding it.
Every time you DOSE UP, you’re deMOTED. There's no STOPping it.
It’s a HOT air STUpid filled ballOON. It TOOK mad time inFLOATing it.
*pause
That weed be kicking in.
She ain’t a problem like that girl can be.
I can do without the green but it can be a nice treat. (*pause)
That sure is a nice tree. (*pause)
That sure is a cool breeze. (*pause)
Life can be so lovely so I'm STAYING like a Bee Gee.
It’s LOVEly how the mountains move the mist in off the sea, see?
We gorillas in it. I'm the Dark Spring. It's so MISS-TY!
Driving in it’s gonna be my fucking finish! YOU'LL SEE!
Five years free and reason 'nough for living in it! THIS WEEK!
Fancy coffees full of roasted beans steaming,
fresh morning beams gleaming,
Exercise machines got my body disciplining,
And my pick a women, got me crawling up the ceilin.
And my, old lady, dead now, so there, ain't nobody schemin'.
So let’s get back to the topic.
Should I get strapped up, or should I stop it?
Should I get taught how to pop it?
No holding on sideways. All ya’ll gotta STOP it.
I don’t care about image.
I’m not a POP star.
I’m after a hit. I am direct.
But it's not the glimmer and glitz..
it's the effect
It’s the hammer and it’s...
...it’s the firing pin.
It's the ignition,
it's the bullet.... RIFEling in...
it’s the stopping the man threatens my life or-
-or that of a wife or my kin...
it’s the stopping power...
It’s the expansion and the DROPping power,
The intangible SENSE of power,
the advancement of the magazine,
the cycling to the NEXT shell,
The fact that it’s so FRIGHT-NING,
semi-auto so she available to RAISE hell.
Inside my chamber,
my gunshot echoes like a brass bell, (*sample deep bell)
My jack ejects a brass shell, (casing)
I hope I never kill a man,
I’m told there’s nothing like the smell.
Casing my joint, these criminells were on point. (widdit)
And I wasn’t. Where was my joint? (biscuit)
Why wasn’t I present? (in it)
If danger came again? (Lawd forbid it)
What would I do different?
How do I keep from the Abyss without looking down in it? (*evil chuckle.)
