Heels On A Wet Cement Street Corner

She waits…. Idly in the cold night, shivers run through her body, part of her is confused, her inner decency causes vertigo, chilly it is, so she tightens up her mink fur coat…


…Red skirt that rides a little high, she wishes she didn’t wear, because of the air that hits her bare… thigh. She exclaims to herself & stomps the pavement, powerful motion that makes the others stare quick. She blew her cool… or rather the cold wind made her release her tension, inside she wants to stop as a person who is in animated suspension…


…Civilians pass her & they are not speakers, all she ever needed was someone to give her output & right now she wouldn’t be freezing, but hey in her cards she was dealt she was short an Ace, life had the upper hand & put her in a position that was base. Grand slams are what she dreams of, livin’ the good life like every other blue blooded American, finally a person comes up & the pedestrian looks @ her & there it is…


…His name is John & he’s gonna make her warm for a bit, monetary discussed briefly & it’s down to business. Damn…sadness led to a three letter word that starts with the same letter – sin… *click clack* let the walk begin again…

**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**

- JioVanni

Raised By Rappers

**This one is about the result of what happens when a person puts their faith in the wrong people...**


The daughter of the mother formed in the belly of the beast, a baby who had a baby & she hasn’t grown up in the least. My mommy was a church girl, her mommy, my gram, kept her sheltered from the world. She used to study The Bible & meditate on its spiritual food, she was always polite, & never the type to butt in, except when she was angry & then only music would appease her mood. Very studious she was, stayed in her packets of mathematics; she wasn’t like the other girls who flirted with the boys in classes. Her mental grind was untouched, when she expressed her thoughts; adults were left with a brilliant feeling like the people on welfare that get that check on the 1st of the month. By the age of 15 her body started to fill out, the prepubescent boys would watch her walk with a gaped mouth. She tried to stay focused, but she started to feel herself, it was hard to have not when the boys would break their necks to look nearly killing themselves. She was always the top in the class, always considered nice, but deep down she wanted some excitement in her life.


As is the case with many families her daddy was non-existent, it was easy to see she needed him cuz every year it was @ the top of her wish list. Alas, it was never granted, neither was an explanation handed, she was close to the right connection, she just needed to switch the bandwidth. Bitterness set in, her mouth & disposition became sour, & this was the moment she gave the TV power. Static on her arm initiated exhilaration, but the characters on TV were static too, she had no idea what she was facing. She roamed the stations, Lifetime, Court TV, CNN, ESPN, NBC, but what really attracted her was BET & MTV. The girls in the videos were so pretty, they got all the attention! She didn’t realize that it was because of their dimensions. They danced well, walked, sexy, dropped it to the floor, she had a body like that, flexible it was too, she believed she could do that for sure. Her ambition to be sexy outweighed her drive to stay in the books, she became more preoccupied with getting the boys to look.


Mirror grabbed her attention, she practiced “the walk” on the way to it, she hit the dresser & got mad cuz the sexy was ruined. Slow jam came on, she practiced swaying to the beat, she had rhythm & looked down happily @ her non two left feet. She saw what was known as a “video chick” rub her body sensually to amplify her movements, she liked how it looked & she began to do it. Next lesson was how to shake that ass, roll it, twurk it, & clap it real fast. She felt her social status climbing along with her temperature as she caressed her breasts, so into this “class” that she forgot in the academic one; the next day she had a test.


She used to read books & from them she got brain, but at this point she was so “educated” by the system that she gave knowledge to a boy while he was gunnin’ it in the 3rd lane. She & the family dog then had something in common, no, she wasn’t infested with fleas * she was scratching, which indicated she itched; the commonality was they both could be categorized as a bitch. Sounds harsh but it’s not since she mistakenly embraced this moniker, if only gram could have heard what was going on in her room, but there was no need she believed, gram saw a young lady then, no need for a baby monitor.


By this time she had learned all the tricks to suckin’ dick, the football team nicknamed her “Icy/Hot” cuz she was serious with that Cold/Hot trick! She got into the green, & I don’t mean a picnic where she was surrounded by trees, I mean she smoked them, & spent time counting her drug dealer boyfriend’s money when she wasn’t on her back or knees. My gram died heartbroken, she felt like a failure, truth was, her wisdom was like God’s presence it would fix whatever ailed ya. I really needed gram on those nights my mommy would tell me I ruined her dreams & prevented her from being somebody; she exhibited more frustration with me than anything The Karate Kid felt tryna understand Mr. Miyagi. It was @ its worst when she broke up with her sugar daddy & bills were piling up, no skills since she dropped out of college so, she fell back on her veteran status of fucking. She was actually proud to pay those bills like she earned it in a classy manner or something.


I really needed her, my period came & I was scared, but when she was high, talking to her is something I wouldn’t have dared. I should have known @ that point mommy that I lost you, comin’ in @ 4 am after “hanging” with your hoe friend while you were selling your vagina pari passu. I was disgusted with you but I felt your pain seeing you cry when your ex sugar daddy died, I realized you loved him & couldn’t do it any harder if you tried. I was always confused when all the people said his time was too soon & his death they couldn’t believe, he killed himself drinking all that syrup codeine. I understood it was popular & DJ’s like Screw, & rappers like Three 6 Mafia increased it to mainstream mania, but who would want to die from a medicine induced state of euphoria?


It was after the sugar daddy’s death that my mom stopped “the life” & began to get one of her own, I was always saddened that our house was never a home. All her life her ideals of a woman she was taught by immature individuals, & these individuals convinced her it was ok to flee from her problems with the promises of pleasures in the physical. Post-traumatic stress disorder is not what my mother suffered from, mentally she nearly reached the border, she hated men then which led me to believe she had post-traumatic dick disorder.


As I packed for college, I remembered my mom went for a short time, I have to work up to my question cuz all day she was warning me to stay in the books, I took her serious cuz she did the notorious mom “look”. Finally she hugs me…
I asked her what was she like in college & uncontrollably she began to cry, I didn’t understand then, but now I think her being raised by rappers was the reason why…


**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**

- JioVanni

Intro To { A Heavy Dose Pt. Deuce }

I'm gonna start this one off by saying I am no longer a fan of 50 Cent...

I still admire what he overcame, but to be real he didn't turn it into a positive. Yea, he's not on the streets anymore, but he's in the booth telling stories about what he will do, when he never will do it. The music industry is about storytelling and getting people to see and understand what they normally would never come across. The trouble comes when you present them with stories about yourself that aren't true. He came from Southside Jamaica Queens, New York. He got shot 9 times. He has a son. He has sex a lot. He gets a lot of women. Oh yea...he gets money. Bluntly, he has contributed nothing positive to the world of music at all. Sure he give money to charities, but the damage his music creates far outweighs the good. To call yourself a member of "Gorilla Unit", is one of the most ignorant statements I have heard. If you know what racism thinks of blacks then you know why it's ignorant...

Lil' Wayne:

Anyone who has talked to me about music knows I hate Souljah Boy, Lil' Wayne, and any other rapper that talks about NOTHING, ABSOLUTELY NOTHING in their songs. I could go down the list, but hey, I don't wanna overwhelm whoever reads this. I'm tired of hearing fantasies, tell me the truth in the song you make, don't say you kill people but the only time you are known to have a weapon is when you either shoot yourself, or get caught with an EMPTY gun! Not to mention the jewelry incident, where's the money you were sittin on in the "Make It Rain" video. I'll admit Wayne is a hard worker, but his work consists of the same shit....

Let me run it down for you...

Murder, Sex, Drugs, Money, Swag Level, Toughness... 6 recurring themes that just repeat themselves, you don't have to take my word for it, just listen to any of his numerous mixtapes...you'll hear it...

Recently he made statements that should be addressed, and make all of the ignorant Lil' Wayne fans understand who they are listening to. By ignorant I mean misinformed about him. Saying you will kill someone is not cool, and then saying it and not doing it is really not cool. I have more respect for a person who keeps their word than a person who misleads for the sake of street cred.

Check out this link, it also has the audio of what he said...

http://www.defsounds.com/news/Lil_wayne_on_beef_i_will_murder_your_family

He also has said he is "da god".

Get your cups ready, I'm about to fill em up...

You don't gotta feel me on it, I'm just the messenger, so you can't say you didn't know...

**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**

- JioVanni

A Heavy Dose { PreQuel }

Robitussin, Dayquil, Nyquil, PediaLyte, none of these are the subject.

Love, Sex, Lust, Infatuation, Pain, Death, Life, Orgasm, Sin, Glory, & Truth, some of these are the subject.

Me, You, The World, The so-called Third-World, The absent Second-World, some of these are the subject.

What's the subject???

Black Mainstream Media…

Give me more; I need more I'm completely sure, that no matter what tickets will sell out on Britney's tour. I'm a hustler, I'll kill you, can't you see, I got B.A.R.S. for days like my name was Cassidy. Such glee sometimes fills up in me that quickly I see that no one could ever be, the consequential hero I am to see the vision through the vision that has been carefully crafted for us with conviction. The severity of the situation is hard to comprehend cuz it seems so harmless, like a sweater vest with no sleeves, or at war with no gun we are armless. Let's see when did it start…?

Was it with Malcolm X?
Was it with Martin Luther King?
Was it with Rosa Parks?
Was it with Nelson Mandela?

Nah, it started before them loooong ago in this place called Africa. There were heroes in the bush as people like to call it. The "dark" continent it is not, it's full of color that's why the colorless came to ensure that it would become fallen. Not the Denzel movie where the evil soul switches bodies, but you'd think it was that way they way these terrorists would lobby…one black against another, one child against his mother, am I being too bold, should I back away & replace the cover?

Nah, I can't do that… I'm the sheep being chased by the wolf pack…

They fed us our heroes, then they killed them and replaced them with new "heroes".

Was it Big L?
Was it Jam Master Jay?
Was it Tupac?
Was it B.I.G?

Not to hate on their memory REST IN PEACE, but they can't when gimmicks of them continue to float in the streets. I know Pac recorded a lot, but he didn't make songs about having people in Murder Inc. shot. I know B.I.G. didn't want one more chance, but they keep using his voice so Sean Combs can do one more dance? Not likely, what medicine would you prescribe me, Sudafed, or Flintstones vitamins I should take nightly? I wonder just like Kanye West about the situations that make us fearfully anticipate what’s next. The price of beauty killed his mom, it’s ok watch them run a nip/tuck marathon.

I feel like Martin Luther King Jr. in his return on The Boondocks, is this what we’ve come to?...the shock. The youth that kill just to have the gangster status, while praying to god when their still holding the murdering apparatus…

Discussion to be continued...

What are your thoughts???

**Fueled by passion, driven by pain, before I die the world will know my name**

- JioVanni

Assets

This is for the ladies that are tired of guys who only see one thing, I illustrate my point of view first, then I chose to show the woman's perspective...


In the dark I can see it move, I love to stare, but I don't want the ladies to think I'm rude. I love it almost all the black ladies got em, now white girls too, that might be a problem. Ladies already think we like too much cream in our coffee, they'd rather see chocolate mixed together with toffee. Some think the brothers do it for the money, but she'll say it's all the same in the dark honey. Love the big bodies with the big stick, I guess that's why Marlon and Shawn made White Chicks. But I guess one day the brotha's will come around, but for now I'll pay a visit to B town.

Who'd a thought it would be as big as this, amazed that her figure tells me what time it is. I mean you can't deny it, with them tight jeans it's obvious you ain't tryin to hide it. Wanna jump on it like The Prince did in Bel-Air, seein you walk makes me forget all my cares. It's evident when it enters the room, cuz all the guys' eyes be like, ZOOM! That's the sound you hear, not from me I just say "Oh, my dear!" But enough wit a guy's point of view, ladies thoughts out so we can sort them through. You get mad when we look too hard, it's only because we turn into gunmen and our target's across the yard. But I see how you feel, you want eye 2 eye and you're like what's the deal? Well let me tell you what it is, when we see a fine woman, we act like little kids.

Why can't you respect me for me, and not the thing I have that you won't see on TV? Can you feel what I'm feeling? If you can't look at my eyes I'd rather you stare at the ceiling. When you do that, all I see is a jerk, I try to hide it by wearing a skirt, but that doesn't work, and when I'm at work, it's even worse, I'm about to wear one of ya'll patented 5XL shirts. It's ridiculous ain't it, I feel like you'd take advantage of me if I fainted. You all so ruthless, main plan is to get into my pants so you can use this. You all cheat so much, takin me through this mess again, then you wonder why some of us go lesbian. So boys don't look at this rotund, cuz that will quickly tell me you're not the one. You say I wear these jeans so I have no reason to stress, but I say I use the jeans as my dog screening process. But I digress....and the person that wrote this poem is a beast they must be, a whole poem about ass and it didn't disgust me.

**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**

- JioVanni

The Belt Buckle

If you have ever worn a belt in your life, you should read this Joint! lol


Young as it slices through the air, violently driving down that path to your ass that’s bare. No one can get you mother to acknowledge your pleas, screaming level is @ the top of the charts like the song by Alicia Keys. Can’t sit for long in class the next day, the other kids know why & laugh while pointing your way. Years of belt buckle beatings make you internally violent, so when you whip your kids, emotions can’t be communicated clearly which is why you stay silent. Naturally you instill in your kids the rage you longed to kill, endless cycle like the circle made by the belt buckle’s latching, I’m not preaching just wanting you to see where I’m coming from, if you will…

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stacy Adams, Gucci, or a Marquee could be the option, it really doesn’t matter cuz all you’re about to do is go club hopping. You arrive in the place to be, not jam packed, but in an hour it’ll probably be filled to capacity. First, you lay in the cut, drinkin’ on who knows what. You spot some homies & roll over to say what’s up. All of you dressed to kill; the dudes in the club have more dirty eyes on you than R. Kelly @ his last appeal. You scan the scene lookin’ for honeys, you choose not to make it rain to avoid those only interested in money. As it is, your clothes give away your social status, but upon females approaching you, you don’t want dollar signs to be the catalyst. After awhile you spot one, she’s thick lookin’ like the healthy fruit that’s cultivated by the sun. Her being curvaceousness makes you extra flirtatious, no smooth punchlines for you, tonight just stick to the basics.


Your eyes meet the message communicated means there’s no need to speak, she sashays over…you lick your lips & that makes her move slower. Ahh…the make-him-wait type, that’s the kind of sexiness you like. She’s wearing a peach dress which is why you referenced the fruit, your finger trace her waist as you pull her closer to you. Grind & gyrate, these sinuous movements make the dick levitate. Harder than the metal used to make the belt buckle, a slip between the cheeks makes your knees struggle. You take her home, stroke her on your silk throne, the high ceiling easily echoes her moans. After she’s gone, your dick immediately feels sore, “It’s nothing, pussy was tight that’s the reason for sure…” A visit to the clinic is pending, when will you learn that the saga of the belt buckle is never ending?

**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**

- JioVanni

How To Treat A Woman

She says leave it alone, I suggest you do that, don't want her to leave & never come back. She says, "This is what I need & if you don't listen while she speaks, when she leaves you'll wish you took heed. What if she is jealous cuz you are a handsome man, & women flock to you cuz you always lend a helping hand. They say you are "cute" & initially you hated it, cuz you wanted to be sexy cuz they get laid the quickest. Maturation set in & you accepted being that adjective, so when the sexy runs out, cute is to what they will be attracted.


When a woman talks to you, look her in the eye, don't look around the room or in the sky. If you are fortunate to have a woman want to engage in a conversation with you, hold on to that as long as possible cuz usually they don't trust many dudes. She smiles, smile back, she hits you, give her a light tap. You know she trusts you if while in your presence she is comfortable enough to take a nap. Rub her feet, caress her cheek, & make sure you become one with her 7 days a week… ;) Just kiddin that may be a little too much with both of your schedules, but if it's not… then get wit it dude. She needs comfort, warmth & stability, & when things are bad make an extra effort to be conciliatory. Women are used to being left, think back to slavery, to watch their families be torn apart, & be used as breeding machines, to still be strong is a symbol of MUCH bravery. Don't think of cummin on her, rather come with her to go shopping, don't gripe about it while you are there, make her feel its ok to keep store hopping.


Never argue with a woman in public, or raise your voice, of that be sure, agree to disagree & settle the issue behind closed doors. Why? Nothing makes a scheming man or woman happier than to see troubled times, hoping they can slip in with what they think are smooth lines: "I'm sorry to hear that, he really was wrong." Or "You could be treated better boo, why you stay with her so long?" It's not money or sex that a woman really needs in the end, those are just things she really likes doin'. In order to properly treat a woman, you never cheat on a woman, beat on a woman, or meet another woman when you have a woman, don't leave a woman, or see your woman sad & ignore her pain, but later on try to appease it with the aid of a bed frame. One dimensional infatuation outweighs the greatest dick potential, this is my guide on How To Treat A Woman, but given the playas & pimps that bite the nice guy's style, maybe I should have kept it confidential…

**Fueled by passion, driven by pain, before I die the world will know my name**

- JioVanni

Watch My Noose Loosen

I'm a radical by definition, to think on my level & be my tone is a vast inconsistency with what is expected. I'm supposed to be what they want, I'm supposed to be the coonin guy that caters to their needs. I'm supposed to adjust to what they want, wear what they want me to & bob my head to what they all like at the time. No choice, no dispute or rebuttal, if I do I'll be out of line & in vast social trouble. See from birth you control me, you tell me how to walk talk & act given the situation, but what am I to do when I wanna just be basic, when I wanna just be me. I can't! Why? Cuz you delete, chop it up, grind it, keep it a secret. I gotta portray a certain air when I'm in your presence, if I look at you too long violence could ensue & the cops will be visiting one of our parents. Why? Can't I be an observer, maybe I'm just using what God said I could, my sight to survey the scene & make sure things are understood.


See when I'm in your arena I can't talk to your people if I'm a stranger, I can't say hi to your women cuz that will put me in danger. I can't be open cuz later the police will close off the area, you'll look me in my face & laugh while you say, "We'll piss on you after they bury ya!" What am I to do, should I bury you, & after I do it should I cooperate so they lower my case from Murder 1 to Murder 2? That's no choice a black man or ANY man should ever face, but especially a black man cuz one person's decision reflects our whole race! Should I go into a fit of rage when you approach me like I don't belong or when I nod my head to what isn't "your" song? Nah, I'll just do me. No matter the cost I'll just be me.


Then the ridicule comes, "Why is he here? He needs to leave, no one wants him here." You won't say it to my face cuz you all a bunch of cowards, but once I'm gone it is my character you will proceed to devour. It's ok though, if you say-so, things will change @ the end of the day though, so the next time you wanna hide your true identity like Killer Instinct's Jaygo, remember the truth will liberate the lies & you will be a repeat topic of drama so you'll be a Lupe Fiasco. It's hard bein real, it's hard opening the door to the insecurities of people's souls when they desperately wanna keep them concealed. No more walkin like you want, no more, "how high's" when you tell me to jump, no more fear when I walk down the street worryin about a pistol pump. What? You thought I was talking about white people & how the restrict me didn't you? No I'm talking about all the people who determine what black is & how you should act it out, & on the real I'm sick of you. Dealin with you is a bigger pain than movin…& why am I up here I need to get down cuz you all just watched my noose loosen.

**Fueled by passion, driven by pain, before I die the world will know my name**

- JioVanni

My Favorite Songz!!

Take a listen!!!

- JioVanni