Okay. This is a subject I've been holding onto for quite a while as well. Fitting it comes on the eve of a movie "remembering" the life of Christopher George Latore Wallace.
First let me share some background information with you. There have been many rap artists who have passed away, whether it be from a violent, accidental, or self-inflicted death.
Big L, Slim (formerly of the Cash Money rap group), Scott La Rock, Jam Master Jay, Proof (formerly of D-12), Tupac Shakur and Christopher Wallace are a few rappers that died at the hands of violence.
DJ Screw, Pimp-C, Ol Dirty Bastard, and Big Pun are artists that died of accidental deaths.
Exploitation:
This is what the music business is based on. The big companies use the performers talent to gain more wealth for themselves while they sign the artist to a contract that cheats he or she out of most of their money and ownership of their music. I'm sure you know of at least three of your friends who want to be a rapper and who is working on their mixtape, or "grinding". There is nothing wrong with having a goal, but the music business is on the decline. Well established artists cannot sell records so what makes an underground artist capable of doing so. Separation. The music industry has been flooded with the same type of music across ALL genres. Everybody is doing something similar and all those that are being true to themselves (Joe Budden, Joell Ortiz, Immortal Technique, and many other artists) can't catch a break. The radio is not what you think it is. It's a machine used to promote the artist whose label pays them for a certain amount of spins. That's why you hear the same songs all the time. Not because people like them!
Superstardom:
The rappers dream! You've made it, you've went platinum, you're going on tour, you've got money that's ACTUALLY yours! What now? Then people start to hate you, they rooted for you when you were coming up but now they are tired, onto the next act! People will say you fell off, you were never any good. So what do you do? You sellout. What is selling out though? Making pop music? Making music different than what got you to the dance? I think some artists sell out and others succumb to the pressure. What would you do if everybody loved you for what you did for so long and then turned on you for that very same thing? You would do something else! This is why you get rappers who sing, who use autotune, who beef. It generates sales and what makes sales makes the company happy.
Sometimes:
Sometimes though, things don't end like that. Sometimes the beef becomes too serious, people don't let go of the bullshit and just make their music. People get threatened, beat up, or killed. Then what? No more music is coming from you if you're dead, but wait! Posthumous records! With the magic of the studio now you're saying rhymes you never said! You're alongside artists you probably wouldn't have gotten along with if you were alive! Who cares though right? It's just music! Or is it?
I don't like it one bit how dead rappers are exploited to boost record sales or hype up artists. Let the dead rest in peace and make music own your own merit!
What do you think???
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Intro To Myself
Sunday, December 28, 2008
The Recreant
Trust was of the utmost, it was given & given, ulterior motives seemed scarce no sketchy past to dig in. Attraction, connection, clickin or what have you was prevalent; it was just so soon to become settled in. A movie, popcorn, or better yet strawberry Twizzlers! Now the question is what do we watch, comedy, action, suspense, or a thriller? Unknown to the woman she was an actress in a drama, & tears coming from her eyes would be the thing her cheeks would have to dodge, & controlling her rage which is making her shapely body hotter than a sweat lodge.
See this is a story about a love that was weak @ a certain point, & like all my others true life is the backstory of this joint. Should I break it down, nah that's much too involved, this is a case that only Mr. JioVanni can solve. Break out the spectacles, hound’s-tooth jacket & slacks; I'll pretend I have a butler named Jeeves bringing around my Cadillac. Is it a bird is it a plane, no it's the animal of lust, what attracts it? Hmm, pretty smile nice figure & a supple bust. Trouble looms when the distance increases, when the distance shortens for a moment everything seems peachy. Long ago the recreance action occurred, but she forgave & kept it pushin, but inside she was perturbed. "Was it my fault?" "Am I not pretty enough?" These questions are ludicrous given the subject of this joint but it's prolly what she asked herself… They say once a…after hearing this statement she should have became a believer, but she forgave, while she holds in her feelings in a dark, damp cave. By cave I mean mind, body & heart, when it happened, it was like she was on the final level of Mario with no memory card and he pressed restart.
What can you do? Beat up the machine that's just a game? If you knew you were just another high score, you'd prolly not enter your name. It's a chance, some say too risky, other's say it's well worth it, some women are even nicer when they say, "Eh, no man is perfect.." They're right, but the perfect imperfections make you wanna cut it off so there is no longer an erection. Cuz you've come on hard times since your love did it again, the next step is most likely you not trusting men. The best thing to do is to chalk it up, but don't forget it, if you don't forgive that issue will start festering. When it does that it will reflect on the next faithful innocent man, & when he leaves cuz of undeserved accusations, you'll be like, "damn." Don't blame yourself, you're beautiful it's not your fault, it's his & the girl who was most likely attracted by the shiny thing he bought.
I wrote this for you so maybe you'll feel better; this is an observer who interpreted the recreant's love letter…
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
See this is a story about a love that was weak @ a certain point, & like all my others true life is the backstory of this joint. Should I break it down, nah that's much too involved, this is a case that only Mr. JioVanni can solve. Break out the spectacles, hound’s-tooth jacket & slacks; I'll pretend I have a butler named Jeeves bringing around my Cadillac. Is it a bird is it a plane, no it's the animal of lust, what attracts it? Hmm, pretty smile nice figure & a supple bust. Trouble looms when the distance increases, when the distance shortens for a moment everything seems peachy. Long ago the recreance action occurred, but she forgave & kept it pushin, but inside she was perturbed. "Was it my fault?" "Am I not pretty enough?" These questions are ludicrous given the subject of this joint but it's prolly what she asked herself… They say once a…after hearing this statement she should have became a believer, but she forgave, while she holds in her feelings in a dark, damp cave. By cave I mean mind, body & heart, when it happened, it was like she was on the final level of Mario with no memory card and he pressed restart.
What can you do? Beat up the machine that's just a game? If you knew you were just another high score, you'd prolly not enter your name. It's a chance, some say too risky, other's say it's well worth it, some women are even nicer when they say, "Eh, no man is perfect.." They're right, but the perfect imperfections make you wanna cut it off so there is no longer an erection. Cuz you've come on hard times since your love did it again, the next step is most likely you not trusting men. The best thing to do is to chalk it up, but don't forget it, if you don't forgive that issue will start festering. When it does that it will reflect on the next faithful innocent man, & when he leaves cuz of undeserved accusations, you'll be like, "damn." Don't blame yourself, you're beautiful it's not your fault, it's his & the girl who was most likely attracted by the shiny thing he bought.
I wrote this for you so maybe you'll feel better; this is an observer who interpreted the recreant's love letter…
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
What the hell happened to our young black QUEENS?
I guess they got replaced with these...
WARNING: Strong language and strong sexual content. It's not porn, but damn near.
If you have nothing to say about this disgrace then you're part of the problem!
Watch here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ADrhI3TMIA
Why does YouTube allow this??????
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
WARNING: Strong language and strong sexual content. It's not porn, but damn near.
If you have nothing to say about this disgrace then you're part of the problem!
Watch here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ADrhI3TMIA
Why does YouTube allow this??????
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Eat The Cake Anna Mae...
Yeah, um...
If you think this is ok or funny there is something wrong!
This is why people think the way they do about black women. Disgracefulness like this!!!!
Until women start holding themselves to a higher standard they'll keep being treated like a disposable item. Seriously who would want to be in a committed relationship with a person like this????
Women are a treasure, but some women give their treasure up too easily. Some men are pirates in search of treasure and once they find it they move on to another bounty, aka they make you walk the plank!
What do you think of this?
If I forgot to tag you, please comment anyway!
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
THE MARK OF THE BEAST
Revelations:
13:14 He deceives my own people who dwell on the earth because of the signs he was granted to do in front of the beast; saying to those who dwell on the earth, that they should make an image to the beast who had the sword wound and lived.
13:15 It was given to him to give breath to it, to the image of the beast, that the image of the beast should both speak, and cause as many as wouldn't worship the image of the beast to be killed.
13:16 He causes all, the small and the great, the rich and the poor, and the free and the slave, to be given marks on their right hands, or on their foreheads;
13:17 and that no one would be able to buy or to sell, unless he has that mark, the name of the beast or the number of his name.
13:18 Here is wisdom. He who has understanding, let him calculate the number of the beast, for it is the
number of a man. His number is six hundred sixty-six.
They are already implementing this technology in parts of the world and one day it will be the standard. I’ll die hungry before I take this mark in my right hand or forehead!
For the longest time I thought about this topic and tried to avoid it. I was nervous about speaking on it. But oh well, I’ve never been one to be scared! I wrote this one to help you guys and keep you on the right road.
It’s up to you to make the choice…
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
13:14 He deceives my own people who dwell on the earth because of the signs he was granted to do in front of the beast; saying to those who dwell on the earth, that they should make an image to the beast who had the sword wound and lived.
13:15 It was given to him to give breath to it, to the image of the beast, that the image of the beast should both speak, and cause as many as wouldn't worship the image of the beast to be killed.
13:16 He causes all, the small and the great, the rich and the poor, and the free and the slave, to be given marks on their right hands, or on their foreheads;
13:17 and that no one would be able to buy or to sell, unless he has that mark, the name of the beast or the number of his name.
13:18 Here is wisdom. He who has understanding, let him calculate the number of the beast, for it is the
number of a man. His number is six hundred sixty-six.
They are already implementing this technology in parts of the world and one day it will be the standard. I’ll die hungry before I take this mark in my right hand or forehead!
For the longest time I thought about this topic and tried to avoid it. I was nervous about speaking on it. But oh well, I’ve never been one to be scared! I wrote this one to help you guys and keep you on the right road.
It’s up to you to make the choice…
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Private Symphony
You see inertia and sluggishness are synonyms to sloth.
Then that means phlegm and congestion are synonymous with cough.
So I guess a fireplace and a smooth rug are synonymous with stroke.
Not tonight though because here I sit alone, drunken with sleep as the television is still on. Move after movie, this is the third time I've seen Bad Boys today.
Its night time but the light by my bed make my eyes dance with haze.
I made some calls today, none of them really important; my cousin's upset about his Mexican chick getting deported.
I try to listen intently but I cannot focus, I change the channel and it's the movie Mr. Holland's Opus.
Script after script, line after line I want to rip all my hair out and cause the stoppage of time.
I tire of this self blame and self hate stupid ignorant adjectives I repetitively duplicate.
No one is here now my value is net zero; no one talks to me on IM, so tonight the yellow running man is not my hero.
Eating is psychologically depleting, drinking as well.
I should workout my stress but oh well.
I haven't the strength or the stamina to lift anything else heavy. You would understand if your brain held a tank.
You would understand if your heart was holding the weight equivalent to the money in the vault of a bank.
I could cry but I don't wanna mop up the Atlantic, I could talk to another woman but she's an um bop like the song by Hanson.
Tragically my girlfriend died today in accident so sickening, it used to be her singing to me but now I conduct my own private symphony…
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Then that means phlegm and congestion are synonymous with cough.
So I guess a fireplace and a smooth rug are synonymous with stroke.
Not tonight though because here I sit alone, drunken with sleep as the television is still on. Move after movie, this is the third time I've seen Bad Boys today.
Its night time but the light by my bed make my eyes dance with haze.
I made some calls today, none of them really important; my cousin's upset about his Mexican chick getting deported.
I try to listen intently but I cannot focus, I change the channel and it's the movie Mr. Holland's Opus.
Script after script, line after line I want to rip all my hair out and cause the stoppage of time.
I tire of this self blame and self hate stupid ignorant adjectives I repetitively duplicate.
No one is here now my value is net zero; no one talks to me on IM, so tonight the yellow running man is not my hero.
Eating is psychologically depleting, drinking as well.
I should workout my stress but oh well.
I haven't the strength or the stamina to lift anything else heavy. You would understand if your brain held a tank.
You would understand if your heart was holding the weight equivalent to the money in the vault of a bank.
I could cry but I don't wanna mop up the Atlantic, I could talk to another woman but she's an um bop like the song by Hanson.
Tragically my girlfriend died today in accident so sickening, it used to be her singing to me but now I conduct my own private symphony…
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Saturday, November 8, 2008
The Danger of President Barack Obama
**I was going to put a disclaimer here stating that I don’t want any attacks or flack over this HOT topic I am going to speak about. Not anymore take what I’m talking about for what it’s worth**
First off, congratulations to Barack Obama being the first African-American president of the United States! Wait… Isn’t he mixed with white and black??? Let me correct myself, congratulations to the first ever Mixed American being elected president! Wait… that’s not a race, that’s slang… I’m confused…Ok, I got it congrats to the 44th president Barack Obama. Yea, that’s better.
1st Point: Race
I have been annoyed for a long time with this issue concerning Barack Obama since he was announced as a runner for the highest position in the land. To call him black is a funny statement to me given he is mixed with white blood as well. This is not the real issue though. To say he is mixed is unfair… Want to know why? Ever since slavery we have been mixed with whites due to them raping and coveting black women who were originally 100% African. It was after this that the term “mixed” came into existence. Why do you think there are light-skinned people and dark skinned people? I saw someone on Facebook say that, “…He is black because we as a people are considered that if we have one drop of black in us we’re black.” Let me re-write that… “…He is black because we as a people are considered that if we have one drop of black in us we’re black.” To put this statement in context, they were defending people who voted for Obama because he is black. I don’t have to tell you how foolish and sad that is. There are many people I presume simply voted because he is a “black” man and this is history. Be careful of trying too hard to make history or you’ll make the wrong kind. The general consensus I have been getting from people I’ve spoken with about this subject is that now blacks as a whole feel they have a voice. They now feel like they are true Americans. That’s excuse my language, bullshit! I you don’t feel like you have a voice that’s YOUR feeling. I am a man just like any other but I never felt like that regarding this country. Why? If I wanna be heard I’ll write, I’ll make a video, I’ll perform. I’ll DO something. Of course no one will hear you if you don’t stand up ALL the time! Black people feel extremely proud as we should, but we can’t forget that it’s not over… It never will be. Racism is in the fabric of this nation, it was BUILT on the death of the Indians and the enslavement of us, well not US but our ancestors. Yes we have been stereotyped by our race, killed for our race, imprisoned for our race and ridiculed for our race. Let me tell you something Obama is no savior! He is an ordinary man who did an extraordinary thing ANY ONE OF US could have done! All you have to do is go hard at your goal and you will achieve if you keep God first and you give it 100%!
2nd Point: WE DID IT!
This phrase perplexes me. Like for real… I understand that this was the highest turn out since women achieved the right to vote at the end of the women’s suffrage movement. Honestly though, we didn’t do it. We HELPED! White people elected Obama into office! Know why? BECAUSE THERE ARE MORE OF THEM THAN US!!!! Asians helped, Hispanics, all races were participants in this! We can’t take credit for some the nation collectively as a whole did. Let me ask you why was there not a record turnout of people in opposition of the Sean Bell case? Why not a record turnout when Timothy Thomas was killed? Reason being black people came out because they felt like they benefited from this. Why must things only be done on a large scale when we profit from it. Now this is where I get real upset. I know almost certainly that a lot of people voted for Obama without knowing his policies. The mantra of, “I’m voting because he’s black since we’ve been persecuted for being black” does not help us as a people AT ALL!!! It only continues the cycle of discrimination. How? Since we are being targeted for our skin complexion and hate it, now we target him for a vote because of his skin complexion and think it’s ok???? Sounds like hypocrisy to me. What will be interesting to see is when he starts making policies and recommending bills what the reaction will be. Tax cut is the magic word to get votes because who DOESN’T want to pay less to the government? Who DOESN’T want to hear about the economy getting better? Politicians say what it takes to get in the door after that they can do whatever they please so long as it doesn’t get them impeached. He achieved a great milestone for the race of African Americans, but remember don’t get blinded by the hype.
3rd Point: Change Has Come
What change is this? A non-white in office? Yes that’s a GREAT change! Last I checked though crack is still being slung to our youth, teen pregnancy and abortion numbers still exist. We’d much rather party and get drunk than read the Bible (Not true for all just some people!). We still are racist to others and each other (remember the phrase I don’t like dark-skinned or light skinned people in reference to companion choice). One man can’t fix a race torn apart by drugs, sex, money, violence, racism, despair, and murder. Only GOD can fix that. Why rest your faith in a man who you think understands you??? He doesn’t know you intimately; he can’t touch your soul in a significant way. Yes a change has come to America, but don’t be sheep yet AGAIN! Think for yourselves!!!!
4th & Final Point: My Stance
If you’ve read to this point, glad I have your attention. You are better at listening than those who just write something off because it’s not in agreement with their opinion. If you noticed I never talked about politics. Never endorsed a candidate or changed my picture or donated my status or any of the millions of other things people did to endorse their candidates. Why? I didn’t VOTE! “Oh my God, a black man who didn’t vote! He’s misguided, he doesn’t understand what our people went through to get the right to vote!” Trust, I know full well the triumph and the tragedy of getting the right to vote. I will not be forced by anyone to make a choice I don’t want to make. I don’t trust politicians, I believe them to be liars and manipulators. That’s my opinion. I have never knocked anyone for voting and I’m not saying I’ll never vote I just didn’t this time. For what? To say I was a part of history? No! I am a black man who has never been to prison in a society set up for that. I have no kids. I know God and am actively seeking Him. That’s history to me. Do I want a cookie? Nah, I’m not patting myself on the back for that nor do I want congrats for what is normal for a law abiding citizen. I’m saying MAKE YOUR OWN HISTORY! I was so low at one point I was near death and I came back! When I came back I vowed never to conform to anything or be one of the many, I will be the ONE. I make my destiny with God’s permission. I control who represents me which is me. Another man can’t speak for me better than I can speak for myself. This is in no way an attack on Obama or black people. This is a partially impartial take on this past election and the state of my people. If I didn’t say anything I’d be conforming. Remember that… & don’t pray for Obama because you think he’ll get killed. That would have happened a long time ago while he was running. He’s meant to be where he is. Pray that things get better in the world and pray for your fellow man just because, not because it’s the thing to do. God doesn’t answer those. I know because I used to pray like that…
What are your thoughts?
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Vacancy
She’s a pretty young thing; got a smile that’ll make you melt, but if you looked into her eyes you’d see how her heart really felt. She came from a broken home, daddy wasn’t around, he was uptown with another woman getting down wit tha get down.
Yes, he was a cheater, she wanted to tell mommy but she knew she wouldn’t believe her. It took him to have the brazenness to do it in their house, & she spared no expense in kicking his ass out. He started beggin, “Please baby, Please!” He even went so far as to get on his knees. He knew she was religious so he played on that, even after it was his face on which she spat. He said, “Darlene, God says forgive!!” She retorted, “God will have to forgive me for not letting you live!” He left, too ashamed to say goodbye to me, & that was the last time she saw Robert Lee. She asked her mommy was she ok, she said, “Just go outside & play!” This was her example of a fatherly influence, a weaker defense than a person who crashes & has no insurance. No advice on how to deal with boys’ advances, that’s why she gave it up to a cute boy @ one of the school dances.
She didn’t get a rep for being a slut, cuz she had this air that was all grown up. Honestly she stopped maturing when her daddy left, & the knowledge she had of boys was far from in depth. She bounced from love to hate, from good to great, too pissed to the point where she began to hallucinate. The only thing that quelled it was a sexual exploit; she left being stuck on stupid & moved to the next point. She had a crew in high school, roll dawgs that always chilled; they still cool cuz they all stayed real. They got action cuz they were all pretty, but their emotions were like Ohio’s weather, always shifting. College was just the same, new club songs, but the same old game. Lustful looks that indicated attraction, sweaty sex that they each thought was satisfaction. Ursula was pretty, legs for days, if sperm were bullets, her face absorbed strays. Then there’s Whit, she’s short, but real thick, they call her “Bic”, cuz if dude’s dicks were pens, she always made the ink come quick. Rochelle also known as “Roxy” was out of all four the most shocking. She was bisexual & loved it unprotected, her attitude was bad & she refused to check it. Lastly, you got Jasmine also known as Jazzy, cuz when she sexed, she’d have Miles Davis blasting.
She’s the main character you know about her, so there is no need for you to infer. Time has passed, the roll dawgs are all still cool, minus one, Roxy’s reckless ways put a set to her sun. She caught some virus & it wiped her out, messed up thing is dude said nothing before he piped her out. Ursula & Whitney grew up, changed their ways, & grow disgusted when they think of what they call their “hoe phase.” Jasmine slowed down, but is still the same, new club songs, same old game. Ursula is pregnant with a loving husband; Whitney’s married as well & now knows what true fun is. Jazzy just got into an argument with a dude, he tried to get his homie some too, & she thought that was rude. “What you think I’m a hoe?!” He said, “Yea..” She hung up & was filled with despair.
She’s angry because her decisions have given her a hoe’s disposition. She’s just a hoe that wants to be wifey, but she’s wrong cuz none of these titles are to a real man’s liking. Now Whitney’s pregnant & is happy as can be, Jasmine is mad on a bench wondering why both of them have kids in the bakery. It’s a warm day, & she wipes her brow feeling like an aimless bee, even though she is often called honey. She looks at her hand & realizes her choices are the reason why her ring finger has a vacancy…
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Yes, he was a cheater, she wanted to tell mommy but she knew she wouldn’t believe her. It took him to have the brazenness to do it in their house, & she spared no expense in kicking his ass out. He started beggin, “Please baby, Please!” He even went so far as to get on his knees. He knew she was religious so he played on that, even after it was his face on which she spat. He said, “Darlene, God says forgive!!” She retorted, “God will have to forgive me for not letting you live!” He left, too ashamed to say goodbye to me, & that was the last time she saw Robert Lee. She asked her mommy was she ok, she said, “Just go outside & play!” This was her example of a fatherly influence, a weaker defense than a person who crashes & has no insurance. No advice on how to deal with boys’ advances, that’s why she gave it up to a cute boy @ one of the school dances.
She didn’t get a rep for being a slut, cuz she had this air that was all grown up. Honestly she stopped maturing when her daddy left, & the knowledge she had of boys was far from in depth. She bounced from love to hate, from good to great, too pissed to the point where she began to hallucinate. The only thing that quelled it was a sexual exploit; she left being stuck on stupid & moved to the next point. She had a crew in high school, roll dawgs that always chilled; they still cool cuz they all stayed real. They got action cuz they were all pretty, but their emotions were like Ohio’s weather, always shifting. College was just the same, new club songs, but the same old game. Lustful looks that indicated attraction, sweaty sex that they each thought was satisfaction. Ursula was pretty, legs for days, if sperm were bullets, her face absorbed strays. Then there’s Whit, she’s short, but real thick, they call her “Bic”, cuz if dude’s dicks were pens, she always made the ink come quick. Rochelle also known as “Roxy” was out of all four the most shocking. She was bisexual & loved it unprotected, her attitude was bad & she refused to check it. Lastly, you got Jasmine also known as Jazzy, cuz when she sexed, she’d have Miles Davis blasting.
She’s the main character you know about her, so there is no need for you to infer. Time has passed, the roll dawgs are all still cool, minus one, Roxy’s reckless ways put a set to her sun. She caught some virus & it wiped her out, messed up thing is dude said nothing before he piped her out. Ursula & Whitney grew up, changed their ways, & grow disgusted when they think of what they call their “hoe phase.” Jasmine slowed down, but is still the same, new club songs, same old game. Ursula is pregnant with a loving husband; Whitney’s married as well & now knows what true fun is. Jazzy just got into an argument with a dude, he tried to get his homie some too, & she thought that was rude. “What you think I’m a hoe?!” He said, “Yea..” She hung up & was filled with despair.
She’s angry because her decisions have given her a hoe’s disposition. She’s just a hoe that wants to be wifey, but she’s wrong cuz none of these titles are to a real man’s liking. Now Whitney’s pregnant & is happy as can be, Jasmine is mad on a bench wondering why both of them have kids in the bakery. It’s a warm day, & she wipes her brow feeling like an aimless bee, even though she is often called honey. She looks at her hand & realizes her choices are the reason why her ring finger has a vacancy…
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Monday, October 13, 2008
The Parable of A Homeless Man
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Find You
I find you if you're lost.
I find you if I seek.
If you're cold I find you in the frost.
If it's loud I find you when I speak.
I find you in the movies.
I find you in the streets.
I find you in the store.
I find you in my cleats.
I find you in the shower.
I find you on the beach.
I find you on the schoolyard, where professors don't teach.
I find you in books.
I find you in limitations.
I find you in my adversaries eyes when he asks me, "Do you have any idea what you are facing?"
I couldn't find you in gangs.
I couldn't find you in guns.
I couldn't find you in vagina.
I couldn't find you when I killed that man & took his car, but just when I was about to, he said to me, "I find you guilty as charged…"
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
I find you if I seek.
If you're cold I find you in the frost.
If it's loud I find you when I speak.
I find you in the movies.
I find you in the streets.
I find you in the store.
I find you in my cleats.
I find you in the shower.
I find you on the beach.
I find you on the schoolyard, where professors don't teach.
I find you in books.
I find you in limitations.
I find you in my adversaries eyes when he asks me, "Do you have any idea what you are facing?"
I couldn't find you in gangs.
I couldn't find you in guns.
I couldn't find you in vagina.
I couldn't find you when I killed that man & took his car, but just when I was about to, he said to me, "I find you guilty as charged…"
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Talkin' Love
You make me feel like I never felt before.
Like a sunset on a warm shore.
Your coolness makes me remember you in 4’s.
One for the time we both went to the store, on some husband & wife stuff but I’ve yet to put one knee to the floor.
Two for the time you got mad at me & we made up, made me feel like I did when Michael’s last shot on the Jazz was a score.
Three for the time you made an ordinary moment into music. Me watching you do your hair is a symphony movement.
Four for the time I realized my math was off when I was one, so even when I say 143 I cherish mostly the love…
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Like a sunset on a warm shore.
Your coolness makes me remember you in 4’s.
One for the time we both went to the store, on some husband & wife stuff but I’ve yet to put one knee to the floor.
Two for the time you got mad at me & we made up, made me feel like I did when Michael’s last shot on the Jazz was a score.
Three for the time you made an ordinary moment into music. Me watching you do your hair is a symphony movement.
Four for the time I realized my math was off when I was one, so even when I say 143 I cherish mostly the love…
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Late Thoughts Listening To The Rain
Dirty...
Cold rainy boulevards make me warm.
I ask myself do I have time? What for?
To see my goals come to fruition.
To see the rage leave me.
I'm not soft or sentimental & this isn't a way of coping.
I'm just here wondering.
What is it that makes me feel spectacular?
Like being surrounded by 100's of people & being the realest one.
Like going in the same direction others are but my path is blazened.
I lay here wondering why I didn't shower.
Maybe its cuz I know I still wouldn't be clean.
You ever smelled good, looked good, but felt bad?
All doctored up on the outside, but no medic on the inside?
I feel bad for the people that don't feel like this.
I feel this way cuz God is speaking to me.
He gave me the gift of expression since I was silenced for so many years.
He made me look this good cuz I used to feel ugly.
All things work together.
Worried about fitting in & brotherhood when what I needed was a father.
Feeling like a bastard but He never left.
700 billion can't save a soul...
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Cold rainy boulevards make me warm.
I ask myself do I have time? What for?
To see my goals come to fruition.
To see the rage leave me.
I'm not soft or sentimental & this isn't a way of coping.
I'm just here wondering.
What is it that makes me feel spectacular?
Like being surrounded by 100's of people & being the realest one.
Like going in the same direction others are but my path is blazened.
I lay here wondering why I didn't shower.
Maybe its cuz I know I still wouldn't be clean.
You ever smelled good, looked good, but felt bad?
All doctored up on the outside, but no medic on the inside?
I feel bad for the people that don't feel like this.
I feel this way cuz God is speaking to me.
He gave me the gift of expression since I was silenced for so many years.
He made me look this good cuz I used to feel ugly.
All things work together.
Worried about fitting in & brotherhood when what I needed was a father.
Feeling like a bastard but He never left.
700 billion can't save a soul...
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Black Woman Are You Satisfied?
Here is the audio of what this topic is based on:
Yung Berg's comments: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BcDpxF1-Z8I
I’ve been sitting on this idea for a long, long, time! I’ve felt how I am going to express to you shortly for years since I was old enough to feel an attraction to women. Which was about 10, lol. What I am about to say in this one is not an attack or a disparagement of any females who do this. I’m just talking to you…
Ok, so when I look at us as a people, I see a lot right and a lot wrong. I try not to focus on the wrong so much for if I do I’ll never be able to enhance our good qualities like they should be magnified. There is a problem. (Remember this is my opinion, not an attack!) Personally I don’t like it when women wear tight outfits to show off their nice body, I mean the animal in me always finds it appealing, but when I step back and think about it, I wonder is it necessary? The reasons I feel certain women do this is to get attention and feel good about themselves, not in an esteem sense but just them enjoying how they look. On the surface there is nothing wrong with this. If you know me though, I always look at things in layers because that’s what life is layers. Nothing is as it seems, or is to be taken at face value. If it was then we wouldn’t have to deal with politics in the work place, or discrimination. Everything would go smoothly.
I always wondered though why girls I’ve seen dress this way. I’m sure it’s personal preference, but there is also a psychological thing going on. I know that it is nearly impossible to find a woman who hasn’t watched television at some point in her lifetime. (Unless you go to an impoverished country where they have never had it.) I can hear the response now, “I do it because I feel like it.” I ask, do you? Have you ever seen commercials uplifting women who were overweight? Have you ever seen a commercial where a fat woman is running on the beach in a bikini outside of it making fun of her? Have you ever seen a magazine where they tell you you’re beautiful but not after they show you women who look better than you because of their clothes or makeup? I would think not.
The psychological games that are played are brilliant, I respect that because it takes a smart person to control someone without them knowing it, but I can’t stand it because it’s wrong. I think I know what the problem is though. Not all of our black women are happy with themselves. How about fake nails? What purpose do they serve? They look pretty and they are nice if your real nails don’t look as good. What’s wrong with your nails? Didn’t God make you in His image? Given that fact, there should be nothing wrong with you where you need weave, makeup, nails, eyelashes, lipstick, or any of the millions of the hair products on the market for women.
I feel like it’s all a way to separate you from yourself. You have to focus on so many different things when you get ready that you never stop to look at yourself even though you’ve been in the mirror for an hour or two. The best way to hide something is in plain sight. So the whole ensemble that is you is perfect when you leave the house. You go out to wherever you’re going and you break a nail, or you sweat out your hair, or a track came out. Any one of these things make you feel ruined. I’ve seen it thousands of times where women get irate because of one of these occurrences. I feel our women have forgotten how to love themselves. Why is all of that needed? Don’t be defensive, just answer one question, why is all that needed?
The rapper Yung Berg recently made statements about dark skinned women and how he doesn’t like it they get into the pool and an eyelash is here and the brown hair spread that is used to lie the baby hairs down on a woman’s head. I feel like what he said was very ignorant and somewhat racist. Let’s be real we as a people are very racist, but we don’t want to admit it because we have been victims of it. It used to be that black women hated white women’s stringy hair, or the “bleach blond” look. Now I see so many girls with blond braids or blond wigs or what have you, and honestly it looks a mess. Maybe you just like it or maybe you have an insecurity, I don’t know, but that’s why I wrote this, because I’m trying to get feedback. Plus, I can’t forget to mention all the crazy things they don’t tell you they put into the products you’re consuming. Here’s the game..
They give you a “revolutionary” product that removes wrinkles or age marks but if you pay attention, the more you use these types of products, the worse you look. It’s the same thing with my use of Chap Stick. When I was younger my lips wouldn’t chap for real. Then I picked up the habit of using Chap Stick from my brother and ever since then if I go a few hours without it my lips get real dry. There’s something addictive about it.
At the end of the day though, women are going to do what they want and I’m not mad at that, I’m just wondering why.
Let me know what your opinion is.
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Monday, September 15, 2008
The 12th Round
**This is an old one about a fight I had. I made a sequel to it because the fight continues. Let me know what you think of them both. Thanks!**
I was so confident when I stepped into the ring, I thought I'd knock him out within 30 seconds of the ding, thinking bout that prize money, my new favorite phrase was "ching ching!" Came out swinging, jabs, hooks, crosses, & haymakers, landed them all with full power, now I'm thinkin see you later...You're a bum, you can't beat the Champ, I'm not even tired, thank God for that fitness camp. You swing once the entire round, I dodged it crazy, total I landed on ya grill about 80. My corner tells me to keep it up, I'm the Champ & I shouldn't be wasting time on this chump.
Ding! Second round's started, I got new tactics to show that you're outclassed & outsmarted. I dance a lil' bit to get you watchin my feet, then I uppercut you & knock out two of your teeth. As I back up waiting for the ref to stop the fight, I look at your face & see no mark or blood in sight. I'm thinkin, "Damn, you got a strong chin..", but I know your face should be jacked up, I hit you with more than 80, you should be bloody, or I must be crazy. I shrug it off & get back to work, I smirk as I rattled off my jab and watched your head jerk. I decide I'm done playing & I give you the punch that has earned me not one loss, that's known as the Murderous Right Cross. Your head snaps with a fierce ferociousness, I know it went down your spine, giving you scoliosis. Instead you put up your guard & move in a way which is far from graceful, I'm trippin' cuz I hit you with my strongest punch & it did not phase you.
Ding! End of the round, obviously mine, scorecard's in my favor, corner's sayin I'm wastin my time. They rub me down & hydrate me, I lose focus & admire the card girl's booty girating. My trainer smacks me to get me back on track, in the back of my mind something's throwing me out of whack. I hit you with my BEST & you weren't even stunned, then I realize that in this fight you've only thrown a punch, only ONE. I start to think more but I'm interrupted by the Ding!
Now I comtemplate on how much more pain I'll bring. Uppercut, jab, cross, hook, dancing, taunting, I got you shook. Then I look at you & you STILL aren't bleeding, hitting you all night, but you still aren't weakening. Rounds, 5,6,7,8,9 & 10 were all the same, I pulled out the arsenal & your face shows not a single change.
Ding! 11...almost done, I'm sick of beating you, it's no longer fun. I decide I'll switch it up, I knee you as hard as I can in your nuts. NO emotion, not ONE cringe, I'm baffled cuz instead of grimacing, you actually grin! One minute left in the round, you're no competition so I let my guard down. 42 seconds left & I hear this sound, a loud whizzing & I'm wondering what it is, next thing I know I'm collapsing. On the mat gasping for air, I'm known for taking punishment to the body, so why'd you hit me there? At the count of 9 I'm on my feet, pissed I almost let myself get beat. I'm sitting in the corner reflecting on the sound I heard, I'm usually talkative, now I'm not saying a word...It hits me, the sound was your fist slicing through the air, no more being cocky, now I care.
Ding! 12th round begins, before I take one step, you're in my face with that grin! Two more body shots, a cross, & an uppercut that hit my eye and had it wide shut. Knocked down, I get up, body shots make me hiccup, I can see my endorsers no longer wanting my business. 10 seconds left I don't know if I'll win the decision, but I have to!! I fought you with such precision. 1 second left & the hardest blow I've ever felt hits my mind, all this time I was fighting to increase my shine....it is in pain in which the beast revels, I'm not God, so what chance do I have of beating the devil?
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
I was so confident when I stepped into the ring, I thought I'd knock him out within 30 seconds of the ding, thinking bout that prize money, my new favorite phrase was "ching ching!" Came out swinging, jabs, hooks, crosses, & haymakers, landed them all with full power, now I'm thinkin see you later...You're a bum, you can't beat the Champ, I'm not even tired, thank God for that fitness camp. You swing once the entire round, I dodged it crazy, total I landed on ya grill about 80. My corner tells me to keep it up, I'm the Champ & I shouldn't be wasting time on this chump.
Ding! Second round's started, I got new tactics to show that you're outclassed & outsmarted. I dance a lil' bit to get you watchin my feet, then I uppercut you & knock out two of your teeth. As I back up waiting for the ref to stop the fight, I look at your face & see no mark or blood in sight. I'm thinkin, "Damn, you got a strong chin..", but I know your face should be jacked up, I hit you with more than 80, you should be bloody, or I must be crazy. I shrug it off & get back to work, I smirk as I rattled off my jab and watched your head jerk. I decide I'm done playing & I give you the punch that has earned me not one loss, that's known as the Murderous Right Cross. Your head snaps with a fierce ferociousness, I know it went down your spine, giving you scoliosis. Instead you put up your guard & move in a way which is far from graceful, I'm trippin' cuz I hit you with my strongest punch & it did not phase you.
Ding! End of the round, obviously mine, scorecard's in my favor, corner's sayin I'm wastin my time. They rub me down & hydrate me, I lose focus & admire the card girl's booty girating. My trainer smacks me to get me back on track, in the back of my mind something's throwing me out of whack. I hit you with my BEST & you weren't even stunned, then I realize that in this fight you've only thrown a punch, only ONE. I start to think more but I'm interrupted by the Ding!
Now I comtemplate on how much more pain I'll bring. Uppercut, jab, cross, hook, dancing, taunting, I got you shook. Then I look at you & you STILL aren't bleeding, hitting you all night, but you still aren't weakening. Rounds, 5,6,7,8,9 & 10 were all the same, I pulled out the arsenal & your face shows not a single change.
Ding! 11...almost done, I'm sick of beating you, it's no longer fun. I decide I'll switch it up, I knee you as hard as I can in your nuts. NO emotion, not ONE cringe, I'm baffled cuz instead of grimacing, you actually grin! One minute left in the round, you're no competition so I let my guard down. 42 seconds left & I hear this sound, a loud whizzing & I'm wondering what it is, next thing I know I'm collapsing. On the mat gasping for air, I'm known for taking punishment to the body, so why'd you hit me there? At the count of 9 I'm on my feet, pissed I almost let myself get beat. I'm sitting in the corner reflecting on the sound I heard, I'm usually talkative, now I'm not saying a word...It hits me, the sound was your fist slicing through the air, no more being cocky, now I care.
Ding! 12th round begins, before I take one step, you're in my face with that grin! Two more body shots, a cross, & an uppercut that hit my eye and had it wide shut. Knocked down, I get up, body shots make me hiccup, I can see my endorsers no longer wanting my business. 10 seconds left I don't know if I'll win the decision, but I have to!! I fought you with such precision. 1 second left & the hardest blow I've ever felt hits my mind, all this time I was fighting to increase my shine....it is in pain in which the beast revels, I'm not God, so what chance do I have of beating the devil?
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
The Finisher { Pt. II of The 12th Round }
****If you haven't read the 12th Round then you'll ruin the story! lol Check that Joint out first then read this one. It's like seein Godfather II before seeing The Godfather, it just doesn't make sense... Let me know what you think!****
I figured it out! The past few rounds all I was trying to do was hit you hard hit you quick, leave you with a split lip & a sore disposition. Now it all makes sense, that’s what you need, you need vanity, you need arrogance, you need ego’s strength, but I won’t fight with ego anymore I’ll give you what you don’t have a lot of… time. See you know you’re gonna lose in the end so you pick the best to fight against so you can coerce them to see things your way, but see now that I know what it is, this was never a fight this was only foreplay.
You’re good at what you do I’ll give you that, look at me playin’ devil’s advocate. Unlike Keanu I won’t pop my melon, instead I’ll do what I should have done rounds ago, let my complete attack start gellin’. Don’t think of cosby only pay attention to the fact that you can’t stop me. See I told a person I would give her my best & she asked was that all I could give. I said yea cuz my opponent couldn’t beat me to the point where I didn’t wanna live. You’re nothing but a piece of gum, a soda that’ll lose it’s fizz after too long, you’re not important like a long forgotten song. You’re the disgruntled employee mad cuz you couldn’t do the job like the boss could, you’re a waste of time & I wonder if I should…
Ding! You’re pissed now, you come out swingin’, I weave it barely, singed the hair off my skin, like a woman’s legs you naired me. Look at me crackin jokes while I’m in the fight of my life. You feint one punch & come with an uppercut but your arm falls limp when I hit you with the right cross that swells your eye shut. What’s wrong, you were so passive when you knew you had it in hand, but now you run around furiously like the cops are chasing you for possession of contraband. If you had paid attention you would see my wristband said champion, while yours says “dismal comparison”. I add a left hook for good measure, the round ends & I sit in the corner with a great feeling of pleasure. You look me dead in the eyes & show me that smile, I guess to throw me off, I respond with the wink & the gun & that really pisses you off, all bets are off, you charge at my corner miss me with a kick, I should have known when you start losing you’d cheat like a bitch.
Ding! The bitch line was not referring to women, but you are PMS’n right about now, supposed to be in control of so many so when you can’t control one you act like you do right now.
See you’ve been figured out I told you in the intro, but since you wanna really bang, I’ll up the tempo, change the crescendo, make this beat down classic like duckhunt on Nintendo, make it suspenseful, embarrass you in front of your kinfolk, if you were so certain of victory why you toy with the shit for? You ain’t a baby so why you spittin’ boi? I guess it’s cuz of the rapid successive shots to your sternum, but hey when you got a fiery opponent, this is what I always do, burn em…
You drop to one knee & for a split second I feel superior, that’s all you needed to penetrate my seemingly fortress exterior. I respect your power but I don’t fear it, you got me good & it seems to through… Ding!
Shocked? Now you know JioVanni has more fight in him than that, or didn’t you? It’s funny how upset you are that you’re not the victor, but I mean come on… you call that a finisher??
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
I figured it out! The past few rounds all I was trying to do was hit you hard hit you quick, leave you with a split lip & a sore disposition. Now it all makes sense, that’s what you need, you need vanity, you need arrogance, you need ego’s strength, but I won’t fight with ego anymore I’ll give you what you don’t have a lot of… time. See you know you’re gonna lose in the end so you pick the best to fight against so you can coerce them to see things your way, but see now that I know what it is, this was never a fight this was only foreplay.
You’re good at what you do I’ll give you that, look at me playin’ devil’s advocate. Unlike Keanu I won’t pop my melon, instead I’ll do what I should have done rounds ago, let my complete attack start gellin’. Don’t think of cosby only pay attention to the fact that you can’t stop me. See I told a person I would give her my best & she asked was that all I could give. I said yea cuz my opponent couldn’t beat me to the point where I didn’t wanna live. You’re nothing but a piece of gum, a soda that’ll lose it’s fizz after too long, you’re not important like a long forgotten song. You’re the disgruntled employee mad cuz you couldn’t do the job like the boss could, you’re a waste of time & I wonder if I should…
Ding! You’re pissed now, you come out swingin’, I weave it barely, singed the hair off my skin, like a woman’s legs you naired me. Look at me crackin jokes while I’m in the fight of my life. You feint one punch & come with an uppercut but your arm falls limp when I hit you with the right cross that swells your eye shut. What’s wrong, you were so passive when you knew you had it in hand, but now you run around furiously like the cops are chasing you for possession of contraband. If you had paid attention you would see my wristband said champion, while yours says “dismal comparison”. I add a left hook for good measure, the round ends & I sit in the corner with a great feeling of pleasure. You look me dead in the eyes & show me that smile, I guess to throw me off, I respond with the wink & the gun & that really pisses you off, all bets are off, you charge at my corner miss me with a kick, I should have known when you start losing you’d cheat like a bitch.
Ding! The bitch line was not referring to women, but you are PMS’n right about now, supposed to be in control of so many so when you can’t control one you act like you do right now.
See you’ve been figured out I told you in the intro, but since you wanna really bang, I’ll up the tempo, change the crescendo, make this beat down classic like duckhunt on Nintendo, make it suspenseful, embarrass you in front of your kinfolk, if you were so certain of victory why you toy with the shit for? You ain’t a baby so why you spittin’ boi? I guess it’s cuz of the rapid successive shots to your sternum, but hey when you got a fiery opponent, this is what I always do, burn em…
You drop to one knee & for a split second I feel superior, that’s all you needed to penetrate my seemingly fortress exterior. I respect your power but I don’t fear it, you got me good & it seems to through… Ding!
Shocked? Now you know JioVanni has more fight in him than that, or didn’t you? It’s funny how upset you are that you’re not the victor, but I mean come on… you call that a finisher??
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Kanyeezy Arrested?
I got word from my girl that Kanye was arrested! I was like "yea right, not him. he doesn't seem the type to get into trouble." Then I saw it on MySpace & MediaTakeout.com so I knew it was true and on top of that there was video footage which you should be able to see below barring they don't take it off the internet for copyright purposes...
Link to video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u4r75ERMR4c&feature=related
I mean it was wrong for Kanye to do that, but I mean as a celebrity sometimes you get sick of people being in your face. That's the price you pay for fame. You become subject to lies, scandal, and public ridicule all at the hands of the paparazzi.
Before you judge him or think he is crazy think about his life. He just lost his mother who was his drive and who believed in his goal to make it in the music business when he didn't..."..me and my momma hopped in that uhaul van.."
I mean not even a year has passed and I can't recall him slowing down at all to mourn. I mean he immediately went on stage broke down on the performance of "Hey Mama". Then a few weeks later he made it through it. Then he launched the Glow In The Dark Tour. He hasn't let it hit him or he's trying to stay busy. People talk about his look with the beard and the hair and how his new single is strange. Now you got the incident that happened at the airport. He's clearly hurting so just pray for the guy who stays using a teddy bear as his logo! lol
Stay strong Ye!
Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Love Me { Video Version }
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Thursday, September 4, 2008
That Kind of Man
I want to be the kind of man that makes women smile, not cuz of his slick tongue or ability to get their feminine wiles. I want to be the kind of man that makes you smile, simply cuz you know I'm crazy for argyle. I spaz for it, if I see it I adore it, if you with me and you see it, buy it, I shouldn't have to ask for it..Jus kidding, I'd rather treat, and before I disrespect you, I'd rather we didn't speak. I want to be the kind of man that's 100% independent, in the political arena I'm not a demo or a rep I'm independent. I want to be that kind of man that ladies love, not cuz of my looks, but the appreciation I have for what God made me capable of. I want to be that kind of man that looks out for others and treats his own enemies like his brothers.
I want to be that kind of man that makes big money, but with or without it my disposition is still sunny. I want to be that kind of man who is never quick to judge, and who can still love my wife even if she develops a pudge. I want to be that kind of man that calls you to say nothing, I know what I had to say was important but your sweet voice always makes me forget something. I want to be that kind of man that Jesus describes, asking similar questions like, "Who do you think that I....am?"
It's amazing that the kind of man I want to be involves more pain than a visectomy. I want to be that kind of man who isn't defined by his sexual prowess, or moves out of the country to live in a palace. I want to be that kind of man who trusts his woman completely, knowing she is the thing God sent to complete me. She's much more than a thing though, but to convey all her positives and keep this to rhyme, I'd have to speed up the tempo. Just so you know I have no dream girl, the girl God sends is the one in my world. I'm single not cuz I'm playin the field, it's jus for so long I been pushing 100 when God has been simply saying "yield." I use to define myself by who was on my arm, sorta like the rappers define themselves with their charm. I used to define myself by people's opinions of my poetry, now I'm like a duck your negativity will jus flow from me.
I never understood why people would thank their haters, now I know, it's because they elevate you higher than any of our skyscrapers. I want to be that kind of man that doesn't please others to get recognition; I simply want to do it because that's my heart condition. I heard that God knows the true you, so what if that means your idol is more evil than you? I want to be that kind of man that doesn't assume the worst, I wouldn't have to if I put God first. I want to be that kind of man that slow to jump into the fray, even though my temper is hotter than Pompeii. But hey, time to cut this short, and if you didn't know I'm one of God's cohorts. I fulfill some of these qualities in that kind of man, but I'll indulge you like Jesus indulged his punishers by asking, "Who do you say that I am?"
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
I want to be that kind of man that makes big money, but with or without it my disposition is still sunny. I want to be that kind of man who is never quick to judge, and who can still love my wife even if she develops a pudge. I want to be that kind of man that calls you to say nothing, I know what I had to say was important but your sweet voice always makes me forget something. I want to be that kind of man that Jesus describes, asking similar questions like, "Who do you think that I....am?"
It's amazing that the kind of man I want to be involves more pain than a visectomy. I want to be that kind of man who isn't defined by his sexual prowess, or moves out of the country to live in a palace. I want to be that kind of man who trusts his woman completely, knowing she is the thing God sent to complete me. She's much more than a thing though, but to convey all her positives and keep this to rhyme, I'd have to speed up the tempo. Just so you know I have no dream girl, the girl God sends is the one in my world. I'm single not cuz I'm playin the field, it's jus for so long I been pushing 100 when God has been simply saying "yield." I use to define myself by who was on my arm, sorta like the rappers define themselves with their charm. I used to define myself by people's opinions of my poetry, now I'm like a duck your negativity will jus flow from me.
I never understood why people would thank their haters, now I know, it's because they elevate you higher than any of our skyscrapers. I want to be that kind of man that doesn't please others to get recognition; I simply want to do it because that's my heart condition. I heard that God knows the true you, so what if that means your idol is more evil than you? I want to be that kind of man that doesn't assume the worst, I wouldn't have to if I put God first. I want to be that kind of man that slow to jump into the fray, even though my temper is hotter than Pompeii. But hey, time to cut this short, and if you didn't know I'm one of God's cohorts. I fulfill some of these qualities in that kind of man, but I'll indulge you like Jesus indulged his punishers by asking, "Who do you say that I am?"
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
What If?
Well I feel like addressing myself, you and anyone I missed, so I have a few questions for you...
What if you reached the pinnacle of success, what would you do with it? Would you use it for good, or an easy opportunity to hit? Can you ever be satisfied, or even if you had everything, would you still grind? Cold you realize that you can't take it with you, or would you feel lost if you had to live simple? Are you a gangsta who likes to clock, and proves his manhood with a glock, and wats in your sock? Are you a sexy woman who has brains and smarts, but limits yourself to spreadin ur legs in parks? Did you have a baby too soon, and decided to strip, do you have a quick temper and won't take any lip?
To the gangsta, what if your actions got your own people killed, would you then be better equipped to spread good will? What if your mom saw your dirt in the street, would you then be more compelled to keep it discreet? What if the reason you carry a gun is because you scared to square up cuz you might run? What if the whole world gave you respect, would you still have put down his throat that tech? What if your sister acted like the girls you mess with, would you then finally learn your lesson? What if you had to live like the crackheads you sell dope to? Would that change your mind and have you feelin remorseful?
What if you got shot and paralyzed permanently, would you then feel bad for all those people you sent to surgery? What if you caught feelings for a girl, and your enemy took her from this world? Would you rally a death squad to get revenge, or would you one by one take from the crackheads that syringe? What if you met God today, would you get on ur knees and begin to pray? Would it take you back to many of your victims who did it? Would you remember how you laughed cuz you were so sadistic? What if you meant to do something more with your life, you'll never know. What if you got killed in the crossfire, where would you go?
To the stripper, what if I told you that your body is God's and no else's, would you take the man who show a pic of your chest and tells his boy "yea I felt this." What if your family saw your night career, would you freeze up like headlights were shined and you were a deer? What if your son said hey that's my mom, would you regret doin that deed after prom?
What if your son ended up in a hearse, would you then see the true value of what strippin is worth? Yes I know your favorite color is green, but what if I told you, you're livin out the devil's dream? What if you woke up after weeks of eatin a lot, and realize your strippin career is shot? Would you cry many tears, or would you be woman enough to ask for help from your peers? What if you go home and a regular follows you home, would you wonder what the hell is going on? What if I told you you are adding to their fantasy, and it is to the tune of the devil to which you are dancing? What if tonight was your last night on the pole, would you feel as unwanted as a badly placed mole? What if you quit now would it be so bad, or are you scared that you'll have more fun than you ever had?
To the reader of this poem. What if you saw my gift, and decided with you and yours you need to shorten the rift? What if the girl/guy you secretly like, is not conceited but really iight? What if that boss that gets on your case, is not a jerk but jus testin you to see if you deserve a bigger space? What if you have to stay up late and study for a test, but a friend calls for you to go out, and that causes mental unrest. What if that professional athlete you love, took performace enhancers to do things he/she were never capable of? What if you were a constant distributor like Jordan, instead of may NBA players whose best skill is hoardin? What if you played the game and only worried about wat was fundamental, instead of breakin someone's ankles and sayin it was accidental?
What if you are black and liked rock, would you be scared to admit it, because of the possible culture shock? What if you were white and like rap, would you not fess up to it cuz many of your people are not used to that? What if you went to see a chick flick with your lady/guy of interest, would you be nervous if ya friends saw you there and asked who is this? What if you had a secret love affair, but when you both are in public, you act as if no feelings are there? What if you are married and your husband is unfaithful, why do you allow that behavior which is obviously disgraceful? What if you stood up for your rights and thought it was ok for blacks to be with whites, would you be scared to say it cuz sometime the truth bites? What if you wanted to apologize to the kid you used to pick on, but you're scared so you just assume they moved on. What if you closed your eyes and finally began to see, that is nothing wrong with being who you want to be.
To the writer of this poem...What if it all ended today, what would you imagine people would say? What if you loved yourself wholly for the first time, and turn poetry into your dream to rhyme? What if people said you seem arrogant, would you turn the other cheek, or let your disdain be apparent? What if you used your mind like you always could, would you be afraid of lettin down the hood? What if you take pics cuz you really feel slightened, and your fear of rejection over the years has been hightened? What if God came and said it's ok, would you readily throw the punk devil out ya way? What if you dreamed of rockin the heads of billions, but are scared of venturin beyond pavilions?
What if you don't let people in cuz last time you got punched, and if you got hit again it may be too much? What if on the low you wanna be a playa, but know you can't cuz it aint in ya nature? What if you don't want to lean wit it and rock wit it, would you be afraid to tell them to put a sock in it? What if you don't relate to women well, if conversation was poker would be your tell? What if every girl's perception of you when they saw you was that you're gettin some, but in actuality you're getting none? What if they then thought you had no game, you then answer with or without it you're still the same? What if no one really understands the monicker JioVanni, and they don't get that it was made as a method so no one would stop me? What if your family thinks ur anti-social, and tellin them your feelings is non-negotiable. What if you never practice poetry or anything like it, but jus up and one night decided to write it?
What if more girls like you than you could ever know, but you ask silly questions at times that makes you appear slow? What if you wanna say things but hold them back, because you fear a harsh verbal attack? What if with all the issues you have you choose to procrastinate, because you KNOW you can be great? What if you had moods swings and people think it's for no reason, but it's really cuz inside you are screamin. What if you took the approach to life, and didn't get so consumed with strife? What if you let it all be known to another, and forgave your mother, sister, and brother? What if your mother died today, and God gave you a second chance, what would you say, would you let the devil win and fill you with dismay, or say hey mom it's your baby? What if the slanted eyes are really slits into your world, but are often mistaken to be sexy to girls?
What if your lips are as big as your heart, but for someone to reach it is a shot in the dark. What if you stimulate more minds than you know, but STILL are afraid to blow, are you willing to let this thing go, when you have wonderful role models like Maya Angelou? Now....what if you looked in the mirror and quit with the pretend, you said I love you and let the dream begin. What if you thought quicker than the fastest corvette, and your mind was sharper than a mach jet? What if it's hard to believe from your swagger, that you used to work for kroger as a bagger. What if you, yes YOU reading this poem, said at my funeral I was so glad to know him...
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
What if you reached the pinnacle of success, what would you do with it? Would you use it for good, or an easy opportunity to hit? Can you ever be satisfied, or even if you had everything, would you still grind? Cold you realize that you can't take it with you, or would you feel lost if you had to live simple? Are you a gangsta who likes to clock, and proves his manhood with a glock, and wats in your sock? Are you a sexy woman who has brains and smarts, but limits yourself to spreadin ur legs in parks? Did you have a baby too soon, and decided to strip, do you have a quick temper and won't take any lip?
To the gangsta, what if your actions got your own people killed, would you then be better equipped to spread good will? What if your mom saw your dirt in the street, would you then be more compelled to keep it discreet? What if the reason you carry a gun is because you scared to square up cuz you might run? What if the whole world gave you respect, would you still have put down his throat that tech? What if your sister acted like the girls you mess with, would you then finally learn your lesson? What if you had to live like the crackheads you sell dope to? Would that change your mind and have you feelin remorseful?
What if you got shot and paralyzed permanently, would you then feel bad for all those people you sent to surgery? What if you caught feelings for a girl, and your enemy took her from this world? Would you rally a death squad to get revenge, or would you one by one take from the crackheads that syringe? What if you met God today, would you get on ur knees and begin to pray? Would it take you back to many of your victims who did it? Would you remember how you laughed cuz you were so sadistic? What if you meant to do something more with your life, you'll never know. What if you got killed in the crossfire, where would you go?
To the stripper, what if I told you that your body is God's and no else's, would you take the man who show a pic of your chest and tells his boy "yea I felt this." What if your family saw your night career, would you freeze up like headlights were shined and you were a deer? What if your son said hey that's my mom, would you regret doin that deed after prom?
What if your son ended up in a hearse, would you then see the true value of what strippin is worth? Yes I know your favorite color is green, but what if I told you, you're livin out the devil's dream? What if you woke up after weeks of eatin a lot, and realize your strippin career is shot? Would you cry many tears, or would you be woman enough to ask for help from your peers? What if you go home and a regular follows you home, would you wonder what the hell is going on? What if I told you you are adding to their fantasy, and it is to the tune of the devil to which you are dancing? What if tonight was your last night on the pole, would you feel as unwanted as a badly placed mole? What if you quit now would it be so bad, or are you scared that you'll have more fun than you ever had?
To the reader of this poem. What if you saw my gift, and decided with you and yours you need to shorten the rift? What if the girl/guy you secretly like, is not conceited but really iight? What if that boss that gets on your case, is not a jerk but jus testin you to see if you deserve a bigger space? What if you have to stay up late and study for a test, but a friend calls for you to go out, and that causes mental unrest. What if that professional athlete you love, took performace enhancers to do things he/she were never capable of? What if you were a constant distributor like Jordan, instead of may NBA players whose best skill is hoardin? What if you played the game and only worried about wat was fundamental, instead of breakin someone's ankles and sayin it was accidental?
What if you are black and liked rock, would you be scared to admit it, because of the possible culture shock? What if you were white and like rap, would you not fess up to it cuz many of your people are not used to that? What if you went to see a chick flick with your lady/guy of interest, would you be nervous if ya friends saw you there and asked who is this? What if you had a secret love affair, but when you both are in public, you act as if no feelings are there? What if you are married and your husband is unfaithful, why do you allow that behavior which is obviously disgraceful? What if you stood up for your rights and thought it was ok for blacks to be with whites, would you be scared to say it cuz sometime the truth bites? What if you wanted to apologize to the kid you used to pick on, but you're scared so you just assume they moved on. What if you closed your eyes and finally began to see, that is nothing wrong with being who you want to be.
To the writer of this poem...What if it all ended today, what would you imagine people would say? What if you loved yourself wholly for the first time, and turn poetry into your dream to rhyme? What if people said you seem arrogant, would you turn the other cheek, or let your disdain be apparent? What if you used your mind like you always could, would you be afraid of lettin down the hood? What if you take pics cuz you really feel slightened, and your fear of rejection over the years has been hightened? What if God came and said it's ok, would you readily throw the punk devil out ya way? What if you dreamed of rockin the heads of billions, but are scared of venturin beyond pavilions?
What if you don't let people in cuz last time you got punched, and if you got hit again it may be too much? What if on the low you wanna be a playa, but know you can't cuz it aint in ya nature? What if you don't want to lean wit it and rock wit it, would you be afraid to tell them to put a sock in it? What if you don't relate to women well, if conversation was poker would be your tell? What if every girl's perception of you when they saw you was that you're gettin some, but in actuality you're getting none? What if they then thought you had no game, you then answer with or without it you're still the same? What if no one really understands the monicker JioVanni, and they don't get that it was made as a method so no one would stop me? What if your family thinks ur anti-social, and tellin them your feelings is non-negotiable. What if you never practice poetry or anything like it, but jus up and one night decided to write it?
What if more girls like you than you could ever know, but you ask silly questions at times that makes you appear slow? What if you wanna say things but hold them back, because you fear a harsh verbal attack? What if with all the issues you have you choose to procrastinate, because you KNOW you can be great? What if you had moods swings and people think it's for no reason, but it's really cuz inside you are screamin. What if you took the approach to life, and didn't get so consumed with strife? What if you let it all be known to another, and forgave your mother, sister, and brother? What if your mother died today, and God gave you a second chance, what would you say, would you let the devil win and fill you with dismay, or say hey mom it's your baby? What if the slanted eyes are really slits into your world, but are often mistaken to be sexy to girls?
What if your lips are as big as your heart, but for someone to reach it is a shot in the dark. What if you stimulate more minds than you know, but STILL are afraid to blow, are you willing to let this thing go, when you have wonderful role models like Maya Angelou? Now....what if you looked in the mirror and quit with the pretend, you said I love you and let the dream begin. What if you thought quicker than the fastest corvette, and your mind was sharper than a mach jet? What if it's hard to believe from your swagger, that you used to work for kroger as a bagger. What if you, yes YOU reading this poem, said at my funeral I was so glad to know him...
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Dreamin'
Dreamin of a place where I don't sin,
Dreamin of a place so peaceful I easily grin,
Dreamin of a place not rampant with jealousy,
Dreamin of a place where we can say fella not followed by the ny,
Dreamin of a place where women shake off negativity instead of clothes,
Dreamin of when our women act like women instead of hoes,
Dreamin of a place where men don't hold the double standard,
Treatin her like Rudolph while you're the late night Prancer,
Dreamin of a bed that doesn't hurt my back, & also of a world that cuts me slack,
Dreamin of a world where my friends understand why I've been incognito, dreamin that they kno no matter what they still my people,
Dreamin when these weights won't be so heavy,
Dreamin the rain never lets up, it keeps comin steady,
Dreamin where there is no possibility of a dead end, but wait, there I go dreamin again...
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Dreamin of a place so peaceful I easily grin,
Dreamin of a place not rampant with jealousy,
Dreamin of a place where we can say fella not followed by the ny,
Dreamin of a place where women shake off negativity instead of clothes,
Dreamin of when our women act like women instead of hoes,
Dreamin of a place where men don't hold the double standard,
Treatin her like Rudolph while you're the late night Prancer,
Dreamin of a bed that doesn't hurt my back, & also of a world that cuts me slack,
Dreamin of a world where my friends understand why I've been incognito, dreamin that they kno no matter what they still my people,
Dreamin when these weights won't be so heavy,
Dreamin the rain never lets up, it keeps comin steady,
Dreamin where there is no possibility of a dead end, but wait, there I go dreamin again...
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Friday, August 29, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
What Happened? { Discussion on Music }
This is just a reflection of some of the things that I’ve been thinking about lately. I am more than a music enthusiast, I am obsessed with it! Not many people have the collection of music I have! (Ok I have over 9,600 songs on my iPod) I’m sure people have more than that, but not many! Lol
Anyway…this one is about the travel of time in Hip-Hop.
Just 10 years ago I was only 11 & I had no idea about the music business or the nature of it. In ’98 R&B was starting to wane from its legendary status as creativity was lessening & more talk of sex, popularity & money began to occur. In this time period several albums dropped & some were very good while others were very bad.
Usher’s “My Way” came this year & brought Usher to the forefront & was pivotal in making him the big name singer he is today. (Go out & pick up “Here I Stand” great album!)
One of the biggest albums of this year was R. Kelly’s “R.” This album helped R. Kelly become much bigger as an international artist & was pivotal as pushing him to his status now.
The R. Kelly we have now is one that recently got acquitted of all charges (Which I feel he was guilty of, but he & God will handle that one…) & one that doesn’t sing like he used to in my opinion. I remember the days of R&B where artists could really blow & you could hear & feel their passion in the songs they sang. Now… All I hear is songs built to follow the “hit” formula. That is the catchy hook, simply rhymes & a guest appearance. What happened to albums when artists didn’t need a feature to go platinum? What happened to substance?
Flava Flav…Originally a member of Public Enemy. A group that helped define rebellion, intelligence, and power. They were a group driven to fight against the structure that is our government that persecutes black people just for being black. I remember a phrase they always said, “I’ll never sell out!”
Flavor of Love…nuff said.
I thought the show was funny & entertaining & Hoopz was fine! The more I think about it though, in the end the power won the fight. He ended up just another clown. I’ll always respect what he was a part of but I wonder, does time make a person lose their resolve? Or was he that hard up for cash that his show was the best idea he came up with?
I think he just stopped caring. Maybe he never meant what he was doing in the first place…
Remember the days when we would anticipate albums highly and not just because of the hot record on it? The days when you knew from start to finish you were listening to a classic? Maybe it’s just me, but I expect more out of these “artists” than what they are giving. I know the industry can’t wait to exploit you and dump you, but where are the people who make music for the love of doing it?
I’m gonna leave this one up in the air for right now… what do you think of this situation?
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Anyway…this one is about the travel of time in Hip-Hop.
Just 10 years ago I was only 11 & I had no idea about the music business or the nature of it. In ’98 R&B was starting to wane from its legendary status as creativity was lessening & more talk of sex, popularity & money began to occur. In this time period several albums dropped & some were very good while others were very bad.
Usher’s “My Way” came this year & brought Usher to the forefront & was pivotal in making him the big name singer he is today. (Go out & pick up “Here I Stand” great album!)
One of the biggest albums of this year was R. Kelly’s “R.” This album helped R. Kelly become much bigger as an international artist & was pivotal as pushing him to his status now.
The R. Kelly we have now is one that recently got acquitted of all charges (Which I feel he was guilty of, but he & God will handle that one…) & one that doesn’t sing like he used to in my opinion. I remember the days of R&B where artists could really blow & you could hear & feel their passion in the songs they sang. Now… All I hear is songs built to follow the “hit” formula. That is the catchy hook, simply rhymes & a guest appearance. What happened to albums when artists didn’t need a feature to go platinum? What happened to substance?
Flava Flav…Originally a member of Public Enemy. A group that helped define rebellion, intelligence, and power. They were a group driven to fight against the structure that is our government that persecutes black people just for being black. I remember a phrase they always said, “I’ll never sell out!”
Flavor of Love…nuff said.
I thought the show was funny & entertaining & Hoopz was fine! The more I think about it though, in the end the power won the fight. He ended up just another clown. I’ll always respect what he was a part of but I wonder, does time make a person lose their resolve? Or was he that hard up for cash that his show was the best idea he came up with?
I think he just stopped caring. Maybe he never meant what he was doing in the first place…
Remember the days when we would anticipate albums highly and not just because of the hot record on it? The days when you knew from start to finish you were listening to a classic? Maybe it’s just me, but I expect more out of these “artists” than what they are giving. I know the industry can’t wait to exploit you and dump you, but where are the people who make music for the love of doing it?
I’m gonna leave this one up in the air for right now… what do you think of this situation?
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Jay's Top Vids For The Week of 8/18/08! { Me! LOL }
Fan Blades
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Visual Possession
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Be on the lookout! More posts coming VERY soon! Thanks to all those that regularly & irregularly check out my website! Be safe!
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
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Visual Possession
___
Be on the lookout! More posts coming VERY soon! Thanks to all those that regularly & irregularly check out my website! Be safe!
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Sunday, August 17, 2008
The Rose's Silhouette
There's more to a flower...
In a vast field sunlight beams down. 12 in the afternoon, school's still in so there are no kids around. Temp is about 90, some flowers crumble under the heat, plus it's dry…hasn't rained all week. Bumblebees are active, sucking whatever they can; they'll give the honey up unwillingly in a bid to feed man. As it gradually get hotter the bees start to dissipate, & the number of flowers that have died is a number that's great. There is a harsh wind that whips the flowers' about, wind so great some flowers' roots are pulled out. School is finished kids come to play with the flowers, but if one has thorns it will be devoured.
You can't eat one, but you can detach it from its family, the flower, if able to speak would beg for amnesty. It's about 2 now, temp rose to 105, some flowers still stand, it's a miracle they're alive. The wind whips again, harsh but precise. You'd think one gust was enough, but it flew in twice. All the bees are gone, the new batch is not as good, but they will suffice. The queen is reluctant to give any but she has no choice, it's futile to fight. It's too bad the bees were not a MASTER of their craft, & had to be there for a price, this joint is just a giant metaphor for a slave's life.
The roses are the slaves' humanity, but when you make them bees they cause internal anarchy. Self-consumption combined with beatings equal death, so when the baby girl who smiles cuz she saw mommy & daddy in a dream, has to wake & realize it was just their Rose's Silhouette…
**Fueled by passion, drvien by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
In a vast field sunlight beams down. 12 in the afternoon, school's still in so there are no kids around. Temp is about 90, some flowers crumble under the heat, plus it's dry…hasn't rained all week. Bumblebees are active, sucking whatever they can; they'll give the honey up unwillingly in a bid to feed man. As it gradually get hotter the bees start to dissipate, & the number of flowers that have died is a number that's great. There is a harsh wind that whips the flowers' about, wind so great some flowers' roots are pulled out. School is finished kids come to play with the flowers, but if one has thorns it will be devoured.
You can't eat one, but you can detach it from its family, the flower, if able to speak would beg for amnesty. It's about 2 now, temp rose to 105, some flowers still stand, it's a miracle they're alive. The wind whips again, harsh but precise. You'd think one gust was enough, but it flew in twice. All the bees are gone, the new batch is not as good, but they will suffice. The queen is reluctant to give any but she has no choice, it's futile to fight. It's too bad the bees were not a MASTER of their craft, & had to be there for a price, this joint is just a giant metaphor for a slave's life.
The roses are the slaves' humanity, but when you make them bees they cause internal anarchy. Self-consumption combined with beatings equal death, so when the baby girl who smiles cuz she saw mommy & daddy in a dream, has to wake & realize it was just their Rose's Silhouette…
**Fueled by passion, drvien by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Friday, August 15, 2008
Promises, Promises { Pt. IV of JioVanni's Prayer }
How soon I forget where I came from, if I opened my ears I would hear you say, “I gave you your name son.” Then you have these idiots that worship the sun god who I know now to be Lucifer, death to him like a woman mad at a guy who abused her. I hate shapes. These shapes that I hate are triangles, stars & diamonds, ok…
I told you I was sorry TOO many times to count, but my actions make it seem like it’s your name I denounce. I’m hurt cuz my own mother thinks I’m hellbound, quizzing me on your name like learning about you is the class I chose to drop out. The world deems you worthless if you’re not talking large amounts, but it’s the one’s who are poor who have the riches, so who’s quantity matters now?
I think back to my youth & not too many years ago, when my personal war wounds made my inner blood flow. They say no one can, I mean I say no one can hurt you like family, I was never heard so I acted out my inner angry fantasies angrily. I was labeled a problem & looked at as a fixer upper by people who didn’t pay attention to the laws that were sent from the upper.
“I swear God I want you to kill her!” Youthful hatred inserted by evil never knowing that the sins of the father would lead to our home’s upheaval.
If I was scotch, my relationship with my mother was on the rocks, shaken & stirred & I took more than 007 shots. Benefit of the doubt, she’s my mother, all this crap until one day I would soon discover, that this was my destiny, my version of leprosy, I reached out to touch you & you were always there for me.
I remember being broken hearted when my brother wouldn’t pick me up, something happened; another chance & he would continually stand me up. I’d hate him then love him if he’d come sporadically but I didn’t know his disappointment was the devil’s way of attacking me.
Promises, promises… I have promises to keep, I’m mad at others when they lie but I’ve been breaking your heart for years & you silently weep.
I’m sorry…
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
I told you I was sorry TOO many times to count, but my actions make it seem like it’s your name I denounce. I’m hurt cuz my own mother thinks I’m hellbound, quizzing me on your name like learning about you is the class I chose to drop out. The world deems you worthless if you’re not talking large amounts, but it’s the one’s who are poor who have the riches, so who’s quantity matters now?
I think back to my youth & not too many years ago, when my personal war wounds made my inner blood flow. They say no one can, I mean I say no one can hurt you like family, I was never heard so I acted out my inner angry fantasies angrily. I was labeled a problem & looked at as a fixer upper by people who didn’t pay attention to the laws that were sent from the upper.
“I swear God I want you to kill her!” Youthful hatred inserted by evil never knowing that the sins of the father would lead to our home’s upheaval.
If I was scotch, my relationship with my mother was on the rocks, shaken & stirred & I took more than 007 shots. Benefit of the doubt, she’s my mother, all this crap until one day I would soon discover, that this was my destiny, my version of leprosy, I reached out to touch you & you were always there for me.
I remember being broken hearted when my brother wouldn’t pick me up, something happened; another chance & he would continually stand me up. I’d hate him then love him if he’d come sporadically but I didn’t know his disappointment was the devil’s way of attacking me.
Promises, promises… I have promises to keep, I’m mad at others when they lie but I’ve been breaking your heart for years & you silently weep.
I’m sorry…
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Jay's Top Vids For The Week of 8/11/08!
Bernie Mac – “My Sister’s Kids”
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Bernie Mac – “Def Comedy Jam”
R.I.P. Bernie Mac!!!
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H-Town – “Jezebel”
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Joell Ortiz – “Hip Hop”
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Isaac Hayes – “Theme From Shaft”
R.I.P. Isaac Hayes!!!
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2Pac – “So Many Tears”
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Eminem – “Stan”
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Mos Def – “Mr. Nigga”
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Bernie Mac – “Def Comedy Jam”
R.I.P. Bernie Mac!!!
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H-Town – “Jezebel”
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Joell Ortiz – “Hip Hop”
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Isaac Hayes – “Theme From Shaft”
R.I.P. Isaac Hayes!!!
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2Pac – “So Many Tears”
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Eminem – “Stan”
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Mos Def – “Mr. Nigga”
Monday, August 4, 2008
Jay's Top 10 Vids for the Week of 8/4/08
"More Than Friends" by Estelle
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"Say Hey There" by Atmosphere
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"Ain't No Sunshine" by Bill Withers
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"Lifetime" by Usher
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"Mr. Carter" by Lil' Wayne ft. Jay-Z
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"Up North Trip" by Mobb Deep
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"Little Child, Runnin' Wild" by Curtis Mayfield
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"Little Weapon" by Lupe Fiasco
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"Falsetto" by The-Dream
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"Hurt" by T.I. ft. Alfamega & Busta Rhymes
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"Say Hey There" by Atmosphere
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"Ain't No Sunshine" by Bill Withers
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"Lifetime" by Usher
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"Mr. Carter" by Lil' Wayne ft. Jay-Z
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"Up North Trip" by Mobb Deep
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"Little Child, Runnin' Wild" by Curtis Mayfield
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"Little Weapon" by Lupe Fiasco
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"Falsetto" by The-Dream
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"Hurt" by T.I. ft. Alfamega & Busta Rhymes
Friday, August 1, 2008
Tell Him Your Sorrow { Pt. III of JioVanni's Prayer }
What’s my sorrow?
My sorrow is the hypocrisy of the world, my sorrow is the female who dresses like a stripper & is shocked when she is not treated like a classy girl. My sorrow is the women who bash 90% of men when they get 1 dog. It’s not enough that society hates us, but now it's our own women havin us flogged. My sorrow is pain, my pain is sorrow, pride makes it hard to ask when I’m in need of something 2 borrow. My sorrow is gossip, double talking & lies, my sorrow is when the shine goes to the flashy & none to the hard worker who actually tries. My sorrow is how people think they know true Hip-Hop, but they would rather dub it than run to their local CD shop. My sorrow is a mind that thinks of sex too much, my sorrow is pimps who degrade women & have the audacity to commit blasphemy when they say, “Chuuuch!”
To be truthful my sorrow is the church…
Who is this pastor that is SUPPOSED to bless me, he’s just another version of the same salad, but only difference is he’s got dressing. Who are they to damn people who don’t live the life You prescribed, I know they’re wrong cuz you forgave the worst when the guy was on the cross by your side. My sorrow is perfection being associated with white. Let me tell you what I dream of when I sleep @ night. I dream of the black duck that is considered ugly, I dream of a black Christmas, I dream of a black Santa but he doesn’t exist so let me scratch out that wish list. My sorrow is a dream of a loveless marriage, & the only unity they have is in a baby carriage. Speaking of marriage… My sorrow is people who don’t take it serious, like these people on Facebook, they MUST be delirious.
You are not married until you have a ring & you are standing @ the altar, maybe it’s just a bullshit attempt to keep the hope that your relationship won’t falter. You all who do it are a joke. To say you are married when you are not disgusts me & you might as well have been the one by whom Jesus was poked. Go ahead though, keep playing, you’ll see when your sorrow starts duplicating. “We married!!” Then before you know it, you are a single mother cuz you wanted the treats of marriage & now in church it’s your name they disparage. Don’t worry about them though, tell Him your sorrow. Who am I to say anything about your relationship’s FAKE marriage?
Well… I did it twice & some pain from it I’m still carrying. Naturally, we flock to what is worldly that pleases us, but why tell them when you can tell Jesus?
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Rick Ross Being A Corrections Officer?
Recently various gossip & celebrity websites have been rampantly pointing the finger @ Rick Ross for being a corrections officer before he was a rapper. This whole circus is really stupid though. Who cares what he did before he was a rapper? He made money doing that but decided there was more money in being a rapper. This isn’t the point of this one though.
There is a problem with us as a people…
I don’t agree with him lying about it once he was confronted with the allegations. I know he is denying it so hard because he doesn’t want to lose street credibility. In order to be a rapper you gotta “appeal” to the streets. What is this appeal? You have to talk about selling drugs. You have to talk about sleeping with a lot of women. You have to talk about having heaps of cash. You have to talk about killing people to protect what’s yours.
I’m gonna say this as nice as I can… fuck the streets! Who cares what a bunch of aimless, wastes of potential think about you? These rappers want to appeal to the streets & have them love them, but they forget about the bucket. What do I mean? The minute one crab, lobster, or whatever animal you prefer, gets too high; the others pull him or her down. It’s ALWAYS the same.
The streets do this because they don’t want their mediocrity to be exposed. The minute another person does something extraordinary the others get mad because it reveals how ordinary they are. Years pass & one has millions & is living a great life, while you have been on the “come up” for 10+ years. What are you doing???
Another problem is our perception of what’s cool, what’s acceptable, what’s black. What’s wrong with him being a corrections officer? He worked to help men become better, to give them discipline in hopes that they would turn their life around. The problem is we put too much faith in rappers, too much faith into celebs. We forget they are capable of living lies, cheating, murdering, being addicted to drugs, raping, anything… These rappers get their lives from movies like Carlito’s Way, Scarface, Belly, New Jack City, Blow, Sugar Hill, and anything else they can get their hands on. I mean think about the movies and how similar their lives are to it. Get outta here with that!
I never believe rappers anyway because what kind of idiot would say they killed someone, or make legitimate death threats to a nationwide audience knowing the police can hear it? It’s all entertainment, but not all entertainment is good entertainment.
Wake up…
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
The Audacity { Pt. II of JioVanni's Prayer }
Ashamed & confused are the feelings I currently get, feeling disgusted like a person who hocks up phlegm & accidently swallows it. For years I fought to be close to You, but now I see that fighting only disrupts my passionate groove.
Even the best fall down, but I fall often, does that mean I’m clumsy or a juggernaut when I’m focused on something? The fabric of my being is sometimes not worth believing but @ least I’m not a case like what’s made in basket weaving. Lyrically I feel I’m unmatched, but spiritually I’m in a rough patch. Comin’ up as a Witness, witnessing what I’ve witnessed, I’ve become highly inclined to be indignant. The “brothers”, the “elders”, they don’t scare me, & the circuit overseer got everyone jumping to a T. This religion kicks you out if you make a mistake or let a worldly influence slip but let me say it right, they have you disfellowshipped.
Sitting in the back, ducking out early, friends ain’t your friends no more, this isn’t God’s love surely! My mother was disfellowshipped for a 99 ¢ bottle of lotion, elders found out cuz another witness saw us in the cop car as she was done shopping for groceries. Putting all that work in only to have gossipers hit the reset button, after that experience I knew it meant nothing. Hear me out, they excommunicate you for being a sinner, but Jesus you let Judas sit with you @ dinner! You showed constant love that was never conditional, personally I believe they’re just too critical.
Then I look @ myself & see I’ve found confusion by my own admission, if lookin’ for religion was a cause, well I have no signatures on my petition. My ignition can’t be turned on because I left the keys in the kitchen, supposed to be well on my way but I find myself sittin, wheels spinnin’, a derelict individual with a short span of attention, oh yea I commit the same sins over & over again that I can’t forget to mention. I believe in Jesus & I know his story is not one of fiction & @ any moment He can come back & start rippin, takin’ the fornicators, atheists, homosexuals & start strippin the devils out of them to leave them kneeling & repentin’. Possibly this is the best I’ve ever written, the paper’s not wet & I’m not a young boy in class so here’s a new definition of paper spittin’.
I got another part comin’, this one’s finished, praying to God is a lifelong commitment…
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Even the best fall down, but I fall often, does that mean I’m clumsy or a juggernaut when I’m focused on something? The fabric of my being is sometimes not worth believing but @ least I’m not a case like what’s made in basket weaving. Lyrically I feel I’m unmatched, but spiritually I’m in a rough patch. Comin’ up as a Witness, witnessing what I’ve witnessed, I’ve become highly inclined to be indignant. The “brothers”, the “elders”, they don’t scare me, & the circuit overseer got everyone jumping to a T. This religion kicks you out if you make a mistake or let a worldly influence slip but let me say it right, they have you disfellowshipped.
Sitting in the back, ducking out early, friends ain’t your friends no more, this isn’t God’s love surely! My mother was disfellowshipped for a 99 ¢ bottle of lotion, elders found out cuz another witness saw us in the cop car as she was done shopping for groceries. Putting all that work in only to have gossipers hit the reset button, after that experience I knew it meant nothing. Hear me out, they excommunicate you for being a sinner, but Jesus you let Judas sit with you @ dinner! You showed constant love that was never conditional, personally I believe they’re just too critical.
Then I look @ myself & see I’ve found confusion by my own admission, if lookin’ for religion was a cause, well I have no signatures on my petition. My ignition can’t be turned on because I left the keys in the kitchen, supposed to be well on my way but I find myself sittin, wheels spinnin’, a derelict individual with a short span of attention, oh yea I commit the same sins over & over again that I can’t forget to mention. I believe in Jesus & I know his story is not one of fiction & @ any moment He can come back & start rippin, takin’ the fornicators, atheists, homosexuals & start strippin the devils out of them to leave them kneeling & repentin’. Possibly this is the best I’ve ever written, the paper’s not wet & I’m not a young boy in class so here’s a new definition of paper spittin’.
I got another part comin’, this one’s finished, praying to God is a lifelong commitment…
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Friday, July 11, 2008
Growing Up - Why Is It Such A Problem?
Ok, I'm PISSED OFF!
I just saw an interview on Mediatakeout that had a video clip of The Game crying. At first I was like what? What is he crying about now? Then after I saw what he was upset about I became upset too. Recently the MURDERERS of Sean Bell were acquitted on all charges. Which is bullshit! How you shoot over 51 rounds & get off. You only need that type of discharge if the perp has a machine gun or something!
Anyway, he made a song called "911 Is A Joke { Cop Killa }". If you haven't heard it check this link out - http://youtube.com/watch?v=rpJOwU2_Jcw
I like the Dead Presidents homage in the video. I feel like these cops need to pay, not necessarily die, but I mean how can you punish someone who is protected by a corrupt system that is supposed to protect you?
This song would have had a lot of rappers on it at the request of The Game, but he said that all of the rappers declined to lay down verses due to bullshit excuses. He cried in this interview because he was stunned at how easy it is for people to diss each other on wax and talk about how they hate the police but when it's time to really get it in they are nowhere to be found...
Here's the link to the full interview - http://youtube.com/watch?v=CKjo1kQ282g
Then people made comments calling him a homo, saying he is crazy, saying he needs to kill himself, shit like that.
First off if you are reading this and feel like that FUCK YOU! I feel what he is talking about 100%. If I alienate people with my opinions on this one so be it, you weren't needed anyway. I'm sick of people dictating what a man is, telling you that you have to be hard and emotionless to be a man. Fuck all that machismo garbage! I cry when something is painful or I am passionate about something. There is a difference between crying for a purpose and being a crybaby.
In the black community & in the male world it is looked down upon to show tears because it makes you less of a man. What kinda bull is that? Who made the people that feel this way the dictators of manhood? If a man cries he is still a man because he ain't afraid to show how he feels.
JESUS WEPT! Or did you forget? I guess he ain't a man neither, huh? You would be right he is divine as well as man. I bet none of these gun toting, pussy fucking so called "G's" could take what He took. Matter of fact I know they couldn't. No ordinary man could have withstood that type of punishment, we mere mortals would have collapsed from exhaustion.
So what's the point?
The point is I hate bloggers who have nothing better to do than tear somebody down for doing something good. This is a great thing because all you fans of music fail to realize that they are always in the media, in the magazines, on shows promoting their albums and movies if they have any, but when a pertinent issue in America comes up they always fade out of the limelight.
What's the deal with all these people hating on Usher & Tameka?
I've been paying attention to this for sometime now & was debating on the right time to air it out. Well if The Game ever sees this thanks for being the bomb that opened the floodgates...Get it?
Anyway people think Usher fell off and that Here I Stand is not as good as Confessions. Granted that album had more jams on it but that was an immature album compared to this one. I mean how long will we wanna party and talk about sex? I mean for real... That's what America wants. Us to be in a perpetual state of bliss while raising a bunch of fatherless kids who have a higher potential to end up in the system due to their skin color and lack of a nuclear family. Then people wonder why I don't go to clubs... WAKE UP!!!
People always call his wife ugly & I see it's mostly women that do it. Just a bunch of bops who mad they can't have their fantasy with Usher in it anymore. People want to see you stay in pain, they want you down so they can relate to you. People can't relate to happiness, well at least haters like those I'm speaking of. The minute you do something that's grown up or unexpected there is always this backlash from immature people that want you to stay on their "going nowhere" level!
Take Mary J. Blige's last CD "Growing Pains". I like that CD it has a lot of nice songs on it. It sold well too. Confusingly Mary had many fans who didn't like the album because it was too happy for them. What kinda shit is that? TOO HAPPY???????????????????????
She did an interview in response to the situation stating that she is sorry that you all haven't dealt with your pain, but she dealt with hers and she wanted to make happy uplifting music. I mean if you listen to the album she deals with problems but in a grown up way. Like a marriage that is nearing its end and both parties want to quit but she says "Stay Down".
I've come to the conclusion that whether you do something good or bad, if you do it on a high enough level, you'll get haters. It's sad that people are so miserable that they can't stand to see you make it like Jesse Jackson speaking on Obama...
Anyway, don't let ANYONE tell you NO, don't let anyone tell you that you can't make it, or that you are crazy for believing you'll do what you dreamt of doing. They are just the people the devil puts in your life to hinder your progress.
"It doesn't matter how many times you get shoved around by life, as long as you keep pushing back you won't lose the fight".
I'm out.
Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
JioVanni's Prayer
Dear Lord,
I come to you at this time humble. I apologize for all of my sins that indicate that on the road to you I stumble. Lord I ask that you break my cycle, the repetitive nature of my ways that has me livid & troubled. At the same time I can express myself indirectly through the rhymes you gave, other times I just shut down like a person that is lost in what seems an endless maze. I ran through a field of that once & it made me itch, but why is it for your love to come closer I don’t always have that same itch? I look to the sky & I know you’re there, & all the pain that’s in this world right now is what you said in Revelations so why do we despair? I think that we do because we wanna skip the trials & go to the happy times, not realizing you can’t get up unless you fall.
Dear Lord,
I need help in loving me, cuz @ times there are things I hate about me I see, I look in the mirror & I see handsome mixed with ugly, concocted with misery with a drop of rage, in other words I’m drunk with Hennessey. Which way do I go when I look @ barcodes & see 666, how do I stay sane when everywhere I turn I see lunatics. They control our music & brainwash our night visions, I stay up late & around the same hour I hear a plane flying low, why are they skimming? For vanity I pray that you make it go away, so that I don’t hit up a mirror more than 20 times a day. Some may think I ‘m arrogant by the way I portray myself, I pray you give them the vision to see I’m just not being myself. I crank instrumentals when I write God, the beat in me make the words flow so easy, can you tell me why they control the TV? They manipulate the debates so that it looks like firm opposition, but they gloss over the fact that they kill our black children… Should I curl up & cry, jump off a building & die, or rather should I cry? Nah, I’ll do none of those Jehovah cuz you didn’t put quit in me, but what you did put in me I realize is the remedy…
P.S. I pray you guide this world into your arms, because they glorify being gay, murderous, & a fornicator, but as soon as you come back watch em all kneel when now becomes later…
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Makin' It Sexy
Strong will, entrepreneurial spirit, I’ve said it before but this is the real way you need to hear it. I’ve talked about dimensions, figures, & shapes but this is something else to better help you relate. Tired from a long day, heels persecute her pretty feet & crucify her calves, but what she deals with on a daily basis, you don’t know the half. She runs her own firm, keeps it regular like clockwork, not even the devil himself could stop her. Scriptures keep her spirits extremely high, just broke up with her husband but she is happy cuz God will send her a better guy. She came from the bottom, in school little girls called her ugly, maybe it was because she had the only real hair, while theirs was weave & it was troubling. At the school table she sat alone, when she tried to join the others they would treat her bad & she would walk away whimpering like a dog far away from home. She overcame this in addition to her fear of trust; she used to hate public speaking, but now she tells men how they should invest their money & they get so chummy they invite her over to brunch on weekends. She can hold her own around whites & tell them how it should be done. Handouts? She’s not asking for one.
See, she’s the type of woman who’ll cook for her man while he’s chillin’ on the sofa, after a long day of work she’ll rub his back & bring him a cola. She’s sexy because she’s not like the bops that go after men with status, she doesn’t need that. She’s sexy because she can improve a man without him knowing she did, she’s sweet & will put up with a bad attitude while loving you stronger in the end. Now don’t get me wrong just because she tolerates it doesn’t mean she won’t check you, but she won’t get too out of order because she really respects you. She reminds me of a single mother who got with a man she thought was lifetime, but turned out he was a sitcom that didn’t make it past the pilot pipeline. She works two jobs, rides the bus to pick up her kids, gives them big hugs & ingrains in their head that this is not how they’re gonna live. She keeps them in @ night to stop the hangin on the block, she encourages her son’s goal to one day own a chain of barber shops. A nurturing mother and strong minded business woman are more sexy than a big butt & a smile, I haven’t seen the first, got the second & glad I haven’t seen the third in a long while.
Make it sexy…
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
See, she’s the type of woman who’ll cook for her man while he’s chillin’ on the sofa, after a long day of work she’ll rub his back & bring him a cola. She’s sexy because she’s not like the bops that go after men with status, she doesn’t need that. She’s sexy because she can improve a man without him knowing she did, she’s sweet & will put up with a bad attitude while loving you stronger in the end. Now don’t get me wrong just because she tolerates it doesn’t mean she won’t check you, but she won’t get too out of order because she really respects you. She reminds me of a single mother who got with a man she thought was lifetime, but turned out he was a sitcom that didn’t make it past the pilot pipeline. She works two jobs, rides the bus to pick up her kids, gives them big hugs & ingrains in their head that this is not how they’re gonna live. She keeps them in @ night to stop the hangin on the block, she encourages her son’s goal to one day own a chain of barber shops. A nurturing mother and strong minded business woman are more sexy than a big butt & a smile, I haven’t seen the first, got the second & glad I haven’t seen the third in a long while.
Make it sexy…
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Saturday, July 5, 2008
My Mental Fortress
Lockdown… it usually occurs between the hours of 12am & 2am. You call it sleep, I call it punishment, cuz the minute I can’t think is the beginning of a situation I can’t stomach, and, maybe thought is a gift & a curse, they say ignorance is bliss, so that must mean knowledge is something worse.
So would I prefer to meander in the world foolishly, or do I wanna know where my enemies are & how they’re pursuing me? There is evil in this world, they hide their methods with acts laden in deception, only problem is I’m thinking so much I’m making the connections. The guards bang on my cell cuz I’m talking in my sleep, I don’t shut up so they reach in my cell with the nightstick & bang my feet.
Pain emerges, they broke my toe, this is just a simple illustration of how far they will go. I was screaming knowledge in my slumber, but the fact is they hate that I do it, so they won’t dare let me cause the other inmates to wonder. The truth is what I openly talk about is just a ruse to throw the security off, besides no security is absolute when everyone has a price which means anyone can be bought.
The state of the youth perplexes me the most, liquor is made mostly by whites & pumped into hoods filled with blacks, mothers so sad they buy it rather than buying their baby’s similac. In fact, they also invest most of their hard earned money that gets kicked back to the government that’s obsessed with green, to buy a hallucinogenic that has the same color scheme. What’s the American dream? You figure that out, I’m not gonna blatantly tell you, cuz if I do you’ll shoot the notion down like cops do suspects they suspect of having illegal paraphernalia.
Lead & Manganese make the triggers more easy to squeeze, help won’t come cuz the help you’re calling is the same source that initiated your pleas. It’s for that very reason that I don’t drink alcohol I drink Martin’s Ale, after that I follow it up with shots of X so my mind can never fail. Out on the court playin’ basketball, j-ing cats up then I got shanked, I know who did it so it’s the warden I have to thank…
{ Don’t be a prisoner…}
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
So would I prefer to meander in the world foolishly, or do I wanna know where my enemies are & how they’re pursuing me? There is evil in this world, they hide their methods with acts laden in deception, only problem is I’m thinking so much I’m making the connections. The guards bang on my cell cuz I’m talking in my sleep, I don’t shut up so they reach in my cell with the nightstick & bang my feet.
Pain emerges, they broke my toe, this is just a simple illustration of how far they will go. I was screaming knowledge in my slumber, but the fact is they hate that I do it, so they won’t dare let me cause the other inmates to wonder. The truth is what I openly talk about is just a ruse to throw the security off, besides no security is absolute when everyone has a price which means anyone can be bought.
The state of the youth perplexes me the most, liquor is made mostly by whites & pumped into hoods filled with blacks, mothers so sad they buy it rather than buying their baby’s similac. In fact, they also invest most of their hard earned money that gets kicked back to the government that’s obsessed with green, to buy a hallucinogenic that has the same color scheme. What’s the American dream? You figure that out, I’m not gonna blatantly tell you, cuz if I do you’ll shoot the notion down like cops do suspects they suspect of having illegal paraphernalia.
Lead & Manganese make the triggers more easy to squeeze, help won’t come cuz the help you’re calling is the same source that initiated your pleas. It’s for that very reason that I don’t drink alcohol I drink Martin’s Ale, after that I follow it up with shots of X so my mind can never fail. Out on the court playin’ basketball, j-ing cats up then I got shanked, I know who did it so it’s the warden I have to thank…
{ Don’t be a prisoner…}
**Fueled by passion, driven by pain before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Learning Heartbreak
So usually it commences around 7:30 am or 8, most don't want to go so when they're there the end is something on which they can't wait. The stories are a bore, a trifling chore not worthy of the breath used to utter it, they wish this lame would change the subject. Don't know the answers to a test but the girls are quick to shake it to a hot beat & jiggle their ass & breasts. The boys hate long division but wanna last long when a woman divides her legs & they make their incision. Come on, why are things this way? No books in hard back, but you got boys so hard carrying their hood on their back. Issues with women learning or attempting to learn how to be women too fast, they have the body type so older men give her a pass. It's tight so the temptation is mighty, she's got a bump on her stomach that you thought came from too many Flamin' Hots, realizing she's with child you say, "Bly me!" Not British, but other accents are present when the mothers walk in dressed like classless sluts, is the black woman nothing but a vast production of similar dance moves with big butts?
"Why don't you tell that fuckin' little bitch to keep her hands off my daughter?! Why wasn't I told she got in a fight?" So intent on learning the nature of violence, but when it's Open House that same mother is conveniently busy that night. Is it no wonder that the youth have their priorities mixed up when their "parents" consistently make bad choices in the clutch? Quitting jobs without another to fall back on, but hardworking with her man when she puts the kids out to play so she can get her back blown. How do you learn to be classy from a mother that's trashy? How can you be a good man when you have no father figure & you hate your daddy?
You see the guys on the corner lookin' like everything's all gravy, you laugh at your mother when she says you should get a job @ the local Old Navy. Maybe there you learn more disrespect & give a pretty female a mean look when she asks a polite question, or maybe you know where something is but you don't tell her cuz it's not your section. Programmed to be boisterous from the movies & what they think is “black”, white people react differently when they get mad because they don’t have to have the shell, black people grow up fighting to be treated equally but it’s an ideology that is hard to sell. Long fake nails & inventive names that’ll get you laughed @ in the work force, destined by your surroundings to be nothing but a work horse. This is not because of your name or actions it’s because they don’t teach you in these schools how to make your money work for you, it’s only how to make a lot of dollars & live the good life.
3:00 pm rolls around the flagpole is a hotspot normally, little kids beating each other up & in this environment it’s just a state of normalcy. Little girls grow up around aggressive boys so some become attracted to the same because it’s all they know, but never realizing his aggression could make her the recipient of his next blow. Pregnant before you can drive, in jail before you’re really alive, one question I have for the government is why?
Nah, no more room for questions that will never have an answer, it’s not the way it is, it’s the way that’s convenient, all the real leaders been killed, we get the one’s they want us to have which is like givin’ us a “Heavy Dose” of NyQuil… I sleep no more, cuz I ponder of the days when we will have to creep no more, & not worry about getting’ killed comin’ from the corner store. The hood is a war zone where you can’t learn when weapons are always let off within a few yards, fuck the military if you make it out of the hood you deserve an HONORABLE DISCHARGE…
God help the children…
**Fueled by passion driven by pain, before I die the world will know my name**
- JioVanni
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