24 Hours.

"Spineless. First word that came to mind when I sit to write this. Not spittin' mindless, I'm spittin' timeless as I rhyme this. I hope you find this. A century from now as I'm lecturing from clouds, make me proud, try to understand. Intentionally I planned, jammed it, on the mic I slammed it. Convictions? Yeah, I damned 'em. Foot note was Broke wrote, this shit was never random. Confessions of a "cracka' jack" I lack the fact: I was not raised in a ghetto, but black on black crime I know we need to let go. Although, Dyer said it's product of "whiteness" being the "normal." That normality's a fallacy of white supremacy. The biggest casualties happen in the black community. CointelPro, Reagan, Bush, speaking far from the truths; make it hard for true change to come around in voting booths. Suburban thieves like these are the purveyors of theft. They ain't passin' no test of the unspoken rest. The shit is messed, plus we got no bullet proof vests. But mine's a city on my arm and a mic on my chest.
Give me 24 more hours and I'll show you to use 'em. Don't abuse 'em, even a minute could make losin' into winnin'. Look at Barack's inauguration day, bringin' change-don't waste a day, he used all 24 to make his way. Some would say. Rosa Park refused to move, it took only a few moments. One of many, add 'em up, you're closer to atonement. It takes a couple hours to make a piece of graffiti, don't greedy, keep it speedy, 22 to help the needy. Change your routine, for which side are you rooting? Is it Fox News who refers to "struggle" as "looting?" That ain't so soothing, but if that's your case keep on movin'. Bill O'Reilly's over there so suck his dick and stop pollutin'.
Don't ya' know I tried to stop ya'? With these lyrics that I mock ya'. But you're too ignorant to even get how I stomped ya'. But it's not waste of time, see, that's the point of the discourse. The way we usin' time in this meal of life, that's the main course. Check your source, feel your force. I ain't talkin' "Star Wars." The force inside that makes you want more, need more, see what you can do if you just get 24 more." -Broken Window

Daily Operation

Rest in peace, Guru. You will be missed, and loved as one of the best there ever was.

Maybe.

Maybe we all live young and we all die old. But life's too cold for warmth of lyrics that unfold dead souls. Heads roll as we find the space in between. For wisdom, unity, the unseen.
Life's lean American Dream! HA.
Land of coals, mines...bland goals for horrid times. Wind chimes ring sicker as polluted air grows thicker.
Not to make your typical, political, rants spit cyclical. Rather common sense so we're not digging our own graves.
God saves.
Allah saves.
Buddha saves...
While all the braves pray to things higher made. Realization that they're all the same.
We're all the same in this game. Whether fame, or lame...to tame to talk pains. I leave verbal stains, you might have herbal aims. But we all got the same blood flowin' veins.
Tummy tucks and cheap fucks while inflated breasts get the "best of luck!" See to heal up fast for the rest of men. Or maybe the quest of themselves. Self esteem fulfills substitution with prostitution or pills.
But others can't say they're any better.
I drown myself in 80 proof to make a dry tongue wetter.
We can't focus on the fuckin' weather! There's other issues at hand.
But, excuse me; an issue ain't an issue without news and a camera man.
Intertextual media dubbed "violent and sexual" like a taboo ritual...our written walls.
The screen's our modern hieroglyphics. One gotten to specifics, fall category for stiff licks. Mandatory for cruel and unusual punishment.
It seems cruel or unusual to disregard murderers as "women or men," while in return we think we have the right to murder them.
But this is all aside when we look into eyes. Remember human nature can be such a surprise and such a prize. We realize the things we've taken for granted. After we've puffed and panted we can toss out the shit we've all ranted. And get lost.
Hallelujah! That economy, that election, that bird flu threw ya'. Back now we're back on track with the cure for this infection. A dissection reveals the light behind the resurrection and shows our eyes what's really important.
Act as the informant...the other is a receiver.
Act as a preacher...the other is a believer.
To each miss or match comes a warm pact that meaning through differences keeps this world intact.
The light some lack is as bright in their neighbor. So, do love a favor and balance out the flavor.
Every action's a blueprint for concrete construction...a reaction's a function for spewed-spit destruction. And return of that. We got the chance to build something.
Mathematical movement and mechanical peruse-ment, and feets to the beats of nature's sound and improvement.
Be a nail in the building.
Be a note in the song.

-Broken Window.

Soul Food For Thought

"The Differences"

I wonder how the teachers taught it...did they just slave away as kids today don't give a fuckin' care if they're even a martyr? That's why some fight it. That's why some fought it. Now sit back and watch it as I pick pocket your eye socket.

The men blues never hesitated. Discrimination as the station gets there quota's baited. The shit's inflated. The shit is too outdated; but it's too late to undo all the shit that we've created.

It's about the differences...or maybe the lack thereof. The lack of love gets tangled in a web saying, "what's done is done". Now people suffer as we watch the world get undone. It's time to voice together to write even better songs.

I know we in sync when we think as a single mind, community things. But there's no community unity soon to be rubble and ashes of mutiny things. Fuckin' the system, look at the blood that's been shed on this mission. Who licks the wounds of the wounded? Nobody's ears are open to listen.

Police hold guns, sell stolen goods, come up in the ranks. And we got the fuckin' nerve to label others as the gangs? Now you can pardon me, or you could pardon this, but there's no difference between a drug dealer and a pharmacist.

It's all the same. Ain't nothin' changed. It's all the same.

Uzis oozin' led in movies makin' their shit so accusing, but the truth be that it's worse with a badge...ain't that amusing? They always got the bigger guns, inspectin' themselves. Then how the fuck in the world should we be expectin' to be protectin' ourselves?

Infectin' the cells. You think 'cause there's bars it gives it a different flavor? Ain't no difference between incarceration and slave labor. That's how they play ya'. That's how they gave ya' a way out with no "legitimate" pay, push you in the corner with a taser.

I've on this shit for years. Kickin' back beers, kickin' back tears, kickin' back anything I can sing louder than, I can bring towers down leveling everything, maskin' the government's menacing and there's no medicine to help pleasant men, or if they peasant men, shit's even worse for them. Don't get me started before I start draggin' hearses in.

It's all the same. Ain't nothin' changed. It's all the same.

Soul Food For Thought

Hey fam.

I want to start writing on this blog again. I got shit to say!
Let's make it happen. It's been a crazy year. Let's settle it down and speak some truths.
Here's something fun to start it off.



Good video. Gonna' make a lot of suits talk. But, good video.