Afrosays to me

…random excerpts from my communions with the AfroMuse

Rapping for dummies January 25, 2011

Filed under: Poetry — afrosays @ 8:04 pm
Tags: , , , , ,

The goddess is still on pilgrimage, Botswana or some place similar.

So, I’m a fan of music. I’ve got about 40GB of a variety of sustained speech and wind vibrations on my computer and please don’t ask me any questions about that. I’ve been listening to a lot of rap lately and I’ve gotten bored by the continuous recycling of ideas. I love to read as much as I write so I really appreciate when someone takes their time to come up with new material. Since that has not been so easy to come by, I have had to repeat some of my favorite songs over and over again.

Interestingly, I wrote some puppy rap as a teenager but I started writing waaaay earlier than that. I think rap is a form of poetry and I respect the individuals who are clever about their art. But because everybody seems to think that they’re good enough to be a rapper today, honestly, there is a lot of ear junk out there. In all fairness, I actually think I can write material that’s on par with what most indigenous rappers have to offer or even better

Let’s play!

Yo .. Yo .. Check it!

To write a fairly successful song, you can follow these few timeless guidelines:
– You don’t have to speak correct English. Ghetto-American, Jamaican and local flavours are welcome.
– You start by saying you’re the best
– You introduce us to a few of the things you don’t have
– You talk about your imaginary haters
– You make sure most of your words end in a ryhme
– Don’t forget to talk about getting love in the club and getting out by 6 in the morning, and of course, loose girls and expensive alcohol
YOU’RE NOW A RAPPER!
STYLES:
You can’t just ryhme away, you have to rhyme in a kind of way that pushes an idea to the listener.
There are patterns known to rap and I have listed a basic few below; I shall attempt to steal lines from the illustrious, Nigerian, Choc-boyz. Enjoy! (Nigerian musicians don’t post lyrics online so these lines are not quoted and do not come with a warranty)
Similes:
description – You are this LIKE that
example – [ IcePrince >> When you look at me, you see real LIKE Nestle ]
Metaphor:
description – I am this, call me a that
example – [ Jesse Jagz >> We too fly, JETLAG ]
Claims:
description – simply bogus exaggerations
examples – [ M.I >> My flow’s insane, my flow so sick, I think we’re gonna need a medic, I’M A HEADACHE ]
– [ Jesse Jagz >> We fly so high, we’re only seen by God ]
Bold statements:
description – screw the world
examples – [ M.I >> haters can kiss between my two thighs ]
– [ M.I >> look these dudes think that they fly, you’re a peacock ]
There are many more rap styles out there than I care to list. For an eclectic selection, buy a jay-Z or Kanye West CD if you have lots of money. Simply buy MI2 from your local CD vendor if you don’t.
With all that nonsense rap jargon, Let’s try a quickie, mock-up rap. I call this:
NO BFFs!
I’m the best, no BFFs, you’re an enemy
Haters on my neck, sorta like my iced-out jewelery
No same class, No! Don’t even go to school with me
So they taking shots at me, Wayne ‘Roonery’
Chics make passes at me, I score Hat-trick
Them, over-bar, goal kick
Bed-ridden, so sick
Bed-fellows all week
They walking, I’m chauffered
flip flops? Me, Gucci loafered
Cup floodeth over
Groceries in my Rover
Only Rolls they ever been in is a Roller Coaster
Only flute on their lips plays music
Only Coupe is where their grandma’s chics live
They vexing cuz we turning down vixens
Saving up to do what we did since
And they even saving with their sibliiiiiiings
I’m in their face like a big screen
Big screen? I’ve got fifteen? Sixteen?
How many?
Gotta ask my assistant errtime, how many?!
Gotta ask my accountant, how much money?!
She just told me she’s tired of counting
So how did the Afro do?
Would I make a decent rapper?
I BET!
**Iced-out means overly diamond studded
**Wayne Rooney is a popular English footballer; a very powerful shot taker. ‘Roonery’ is therefore the state of being ‘Rooney-ish’
**Rolls means Rolls Royce
**Errtime means every time
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One-minute-woman January 17, 2011

Filed under: Poetry — afrosays @ 11:10 am
Tags:

The muse is still on pilgrimage and I’ve had ample time on my hands, time to love…

…And I’m not talking super emotionally involving, personality crushing, intelligence ruining, scapegoat volunteering love; I’m talking about the love a young man has for the world and the little joys it brings.

It’s because of this love I put up a status update on my Blackberry that read:
I want to write for someone

I started writing for ladies a long time ago. Actually by writing for my partners in puppy romance as a ‘youngerster’, I continued till the puppy mindedness was eventually whacked out of me. I still write from time to time but it’s been a while, and because of all this love oozing out of me recently, I just needed someone to volunteer to be my object of flattery for five minutes. None of my ‘BBabes’ volunteered. They were all too busy admiring purple shoes, fighting with all their friends and taking up roles in Gossip girl. I went to bed defeated, like a man that made his first million dollars on a sick bed, plagued with a terminal disease.

I woke up this morning with a creativity hangover that kept me moody throughout the day so I decided to write anyways.

This one is for all the ladies all over the world who read Afro,

ONE-MINUTE-WOMAN

SCAPE GOAT

#ScapegoatingProhibited!!!

Would you be my 60 seconds woman? It’s not for too long, just say yes

My women are perfectly imperfect, whatever that means to you, I’m just saying that you’re imperfectly perfect.

And I am too, so let’s skip pretend, I love you love me shouldn’t be twisted.

You love twisted? You’re ready to jump off the deep end?

No you’re not? So don’t ask me to. Till further notice, here’s what I wouldn’t do:

I won’t catch a grenade for you, it’s stupid (and we need me around). I’d rather throw enough to make you proud.

I won’t be your scapegoat, I’m lucid. So how does a cowboy sound?

Fair enough? You’re smiling. I’d do my best to make you happy:

I’d be patient
I’d be kind
I’d be tender
I’d listen
I’d love
I’d spend
I’d spend
I’d spend some more
I’d let you gimme extra lessons on how to treat you,
I’d make ‘A’s at every class,
best student, love-school!
Time up!
 

TRAPPED! January 7, 2011

Filed under: Abstract — afrosays @ 4:59 pm
Tags: ,

HNY fine folk!

No resolutions, just plans.

The goddess is on travel, we await her ‘bring-comes’.

I’m beating a brisk one, one stroke, because AfroSays:

TRAPPED!

THE LOVE GAME

THE LOVE GAME

“Who am I to you?”
THE LOOK
“We’re friends? You’re my friend.”
THE ‘I’M IN TROUBLE’ LOOK
“Is that all I am to you?”
THE BLACKMAIL LOOK
“You’re a really special friend.”
THE ‘NOW I’M REALLY IN TROUBLE’ LOOK
“I’m guessing that to you, we’re just friends that make out. That’s your definition of special”
THE ‘YOU’RE A DEVIL’ BLACKMAIL LOOK
“Errrr… Err… but I, but we”
THE ‘HAND CAUGHT IN COOKIE JAR’ LOOK
WATERWORKS
LOOKING LOST
“Errr… I thought everything was alright? I thought we had an understanding”
“I’m feeling used, I feel like a slut”
MORE WATERWORKS
THE ‘SOMEONE SAVE ME’ LOOK
“So what do you want?”
TRAPPED!
 

 
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