Even though it hurts ta’, mention your name, the game, is to let it burn, Ur-sher, heartbreak hotel, room for extra, for god’s sake, I hope it goes well, poison ivy kisses, member fucking you on the counter, broke your favorite dishes, wet hair, but my dead stare, made you suspicious, was it all a mirage, a collage, of mistress after mistress, while I gave you a deep tissue massage, Entourage, lesson, caressing, my favorite white lie, but to you it was blacker than the night sky, so in sync we said bye bye, my bad, I lust for lust, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, but then the strange happened, you blindly followed the same pattern, started game yappin’, to your new boo, I guess the feelings mutual, so that name, don’t mention, dawg, even though I can sense it, when she sexing, it’s really that friendship lost, that got me tripping, 2010 heart eviction, with conviction, I got things to hear, but I can’t listen, things to do, but the drive’s missing, but even though shit sucks, Dracula, it’s time to saddle up, gone.

Crimson tide, I’m feeling invincible, screaming fuck principle, in O.J. Simpson’s ride, lost for words, nah, it’s a loss of nerves, connect from Boston ‘burbs, to a Slauson curb, scream at me, see my smile & think I seem happy, I guess that’s like baseball & clean athletes, follow the leader, I just swallowed a liter, of that goodnight rum, thinking why the good die young, & will I go out like Aaliyah, for better or worse, I know we’ve been setup since birth, to sink or swim, so fuck what you think of him, I don’t know what hurts me more, the fact that they want my jersey off, or the fact that the sit home & watch Jersey Shore, I’m making moves my G, & that’s a situation, the night owl, ‘ll call out ya fouls, & smash the bitch you dating, fuck love, the menace gon’ get ya, & smoke a blunt over your burial in my Kenneth Cole slippers.

I’ve been a MUSIC head forever, my emphasis on music is due to me not just appreciating not just one genre, but anything that’s worthwhile. Now, the purpose of this post is to say that I love people who love quality when it comes to their music, but at the same time I feel the Internet has spawned a lot of posers. How can one understand love if they’ve never dealt with hate or rejection?. I feel there’s a ton of commercial joints that get overlooked because it didn’t feature Talib, because it wasn’t produced by Madlib, because it didn’t come through Stones Throw. I feel like it’s cool to search underground to find those rare gems that no one pays attention to, but sometimes it benefits to go above ground, because oxygen is necessary.