it's always real funny to write a rap. i say this because usually when i start writing a real heavy rap, the only thing i have to work with is like 50 nonsense one or two liners (or barz, what have you). BUT. i gotta start somewhere. so, i go to my blackbook that i write in everyday and i look for the hottest shit chicken scratched in the margins. the idea is to come up with a whole rap jam out of one or two lines or fragments of thoughts. or at least get an idea for something bigger. many times i'll pick a bunch of these little 5-7 worders and be like, 'i def wanna use these in the same hot 16, let's make it happen.' and then i sit and think about it...
welcome to my secret rhyme craft- something that i should work on a lot more than i do (which is maybe once or twice a month unless something weird happens and i write the words to like 2 whole bangers in a week). idears come in spurts, that's just how i do. so, the process is real slow. here's an example:
up until a couple days ago i hadn't even attempted to write some shit in a long time. so i was like, 'BET. let's look at the blackbook.'
the first page i turned to had the title of this blog entry scrawled at the bottom. 'throw yr baby glocks up' is the very end of the chorus of this pretty garbage jay-z song, "where you at?" featuring eve (when she was still xl) and amil. 'where my ladies in this place, who hold they (buddie's) space, when they locked up, throw yr baby glocks up,' is how it goes.
welcome to my secret rhyme craft- something that i should work on a lot more than i do (which is maybe once or twice a month unless something weird happens and i write the words to like 2 whole bangers in a week). idears come in spurts, that's just how i do. so, the process is real slow. here's an example:
up until a couple days ago i hadn't even attempted to write some shit in a long time. so i was like, 'BET. let's look at the blackbook.'
the first page i turned to had the title of this blog entry scrawled at the bottom. 'throw yr baby glocks up' is the very end of the chorus of this pretty garbage jay-z song, "where you at?" featuring eve (when she was still xl) and amil. 'where my ladies in this place, who hold they (buddie's) space, when they locked up, throw yr baby glocks up,' is how it goes.
'throw yr baby glocks up' is a pretty exciting thing to say so i figured i'd work off that. also on that page, i had written "beast of burden." i saw that and i was like wtf. this immediately brought to mind bucks with tiny guns. so here's my rap:
trumpet the beast and burden it bringswith the hooveclop beat that keeps the dream grinding
parlay asleep, i bathe in goldleaf
and slowdrift thru murk in a sea of godskeet
idiot maw, let the spittle drip fall
and mimick the gimmick before i adhere to cat calls
blowin cancer-cause, blood of a bull in bottle
strollin side of rotten water, scrutinizing business models
we're in the land of dutches and Dutchmen
and some women grin red from a Jericho intention
walk like a duck as the 'j' displayed
but i'm blitzed with a fix for the guts to be grazed
mind hazed, phased, i watched as birds flew
not a sickness, but a scattering of wings toward blue
this is how rap works. two more goddam barz and i'll have a verse.
** don't get it fucked up-the 'j' i'm referring to is NOT short for "joint" (you know, weed). it is referencing the rap god KURIOUS JORGE, who had the hit, "walk like a duck" in '94. "you spell it with a JAAAAY, and not with a GEEEE." get it get it.
