Selling Soul... Pt. 1

 I told her to play a love song…

She knew I loved the Hip Hop,

Needle touched the vinyl-

CL Smooth and the Pete Rock…

Black Griot like Aesop, she loved my fables,

My life is like a movie, I told her, No need for cable baby.

Cinematic, The black man Asiatic,

Don’t touch the dial-

Dumb, Deaf, and blind will raise the static,

I raise the status quo with this black magic flow,

Underground like in the basement where artist and addicts go

I took her with Blaq,

High like where Kilimanjaro peaks at,

Yet deep like the pages where Muhammad speaks at,

I don’t speak rap tongue, only that Hip Hop drum and when I beat it long enough,

She’s destined to come,

Clever lyrical,

Something like spiritual,

It broke her heart,

These minstrels top the chart?!?

She said, “Is this satirical or have we lost the art?”

I told her, “a little bit of both”,

Then Common Came out with “BE”,

Gave her a little bit of hope,

Yet in still-

I

Had

To,

Divorce soul, when she turned and married neo,

Breaking my heart and leaving me for ordinary people,

She said,

Rock was Dead and that

She had died with Marvin,

Donnie jumped out the window,

Renascence had died in Harlem,

So what’s a girl to do in this world to get some stardom?

Exploit herself to the top or dumb down and fall like autum?

She chose both,

To the disdain of what I taught her, She prostituted herself until everybody bought her,

Black girl lost to big business and fatter pocket’s, Mercedes Benzes, gold chains and Prada lockets,

My baby traded in old school for no school, old soul for no soul, fake thugs for real fools that forgot her story…

And fucked up her History, To the point that when she speaks, she no longer mentions me,

It seems by baby’s lost the greatness within her tone,

So now I’m afraid that I must divorce my soul…