Peace to G.I. Joe, but I ain’t toying around with rap no more. Check the rhyme.

This is one of my all time favorites. Something from my Lost Tapes album, “The Years I Disappeared”. I doubt anyone will publicly claim I’m close, but I feel this is worthy of spitting along Jay Electronica on a song:

Gaining One’s Definitive hypothesis/ about some imminent and ominous Apocalypse/ now positive preciseness is my aim, while the incompetent can’t maintain/ preposterous amounts of pain and shame are the following consequence/ among other repercussions/ but knowledge discussions spark brain flame combustion/ spontaneous/ and deep as 13 MCs/ bombs of a new genre alter all molecules in a long range radius/ often droppin, imitating sciences, applied cause it always advances/ by adding up coffin after coffin/ funeral after funeral/ news to the cruel/ unsuitable attacks receive response you’ll feel mutual/ when I aim and sound rounds are exchanged, you’re the man…. down, and out/ slain frame statistic for body count numeral/ this shit’s a magnetic missile to stagnant rappers with my funky ass giving crude food for thought in a bathroom cubicle/ the unappealing truth being illustrated/ justice must still deal with the case of villains affiliated with the evil empire administration/ and civilian chameleons with no karma/ dishonorable constables and morally disorderly authorities spawned from diseased larva/ I’m also against these half-human, half-serpent merchants of doom/ songs I make take place as snake charmer/ my mouth is a siryn, firing vibrant tridents that pierce flesh and break armor/ I hold no reservations about controlling dramatic lights camera and actions for self-preservation/ security breaching is fatal assault/ bringing elevation to a screeching halt/ unallowing chance for a next generation/ demise surprise never gives enough time to try a proper preparation for those who survived alive/ pieces of peace for the rest left guessing the breaths in self in vague approximates and optimistic estimations/ find out the divine route when your life sentence reaches the point of exclamation”

^^^ I wrote this over a decade ago. I got mountains of shit like this.


Greetings! I guess you’re here cause your soul needs feeding/
eating frequent feasts from the new king of this b-boy thing,
giving you the royal treatment/ but it’s never the typical/
good new vibes are reciprocal/ classic additional with random fantastic acts of a God that’s forever unpredictable/ it’s unexpected/
yet at this one moment, we’ve become connected/
you don’t know me enough to love me, so show me some respect, then/
cause I care about the things I put in the air/ prepare rare rhymes to share/ giving reality an irrepairable tear/ then wear the fabric of space and time/ to recreate magic shapes and designs/ it’s an experience that language has no way to define/ it might be something like building a pyramid palace in a vacant mind/
my first rap impact cracked  in half/ from  to San Francisco to to South Carolina to the Maritimes split/
wack MCs step to me, I paralyze quick/ offensive rush to the head on a terrorize blitz/ champion! and the future will verify it/ I knew I was different since childhood, when I moved 20 cents with my mental powers, and caused a paradigm shift…”

also about 10 years old.

here’s some timeless super powerful shit that I’m sure Jay would like, even if you don’t:

The Reality Infinitely Present (T.R.I.P.) [yes I like acronyms]
it’s the miracle of life/ one world collective with subjective interconnected independents/ every day we all take a trip together into the reality infinitely present/ the ever-changing phenomena you face can range from microscopic to tremendous/ so be both cautious and adventurous when delving into the depths of dimensions in the realm of thought that is endless/ the journey is the destination/ so I keeps it moving, pursuing dreams but I still have sleep deprivation/ rapid third  occurs as I express the soul with breath control and deep respiration/ to deliver inner peace for meditation to teach the subsequent generations in the global defense attempts against our complete devastation/ if you can see, you don’t need an explanation/ before war, know that to succeed, the secret is preparation/ and my estimation is demonstrating the willpower to ascend with unlimited elevation/ will be your salvation in your darkest hour of desperation/ that’s why i’m in the mental temple, while the next rapper’s at the fashion spot, the car dealership or the jeweler/ so in the battle, you’re the loser who hallucinates while you slowly recouperate from my manuever that removed your medulla…

I wrote this in 1999. Still pretty relevant:

a sonic revolution is in the making/ liberating by originating the future as the past naturally continues disintegrating/ like rap dynasties of live MCs/ some fall off quietly, some die violently, some try to be something they’re not, but I take the glory that is mine rightfully/ writing the diary of a madman menace to secret societies/ get jewels and clues, use tools to repair problems accordingly/ control the whole spectrum absorbing the truth so no deception is distorting me/ when many minds combine it’s like plenty kinds of sunshine/ sometimes it’s moonlight. whatever’s in the cards/ felt kinetic electrics connected to self, effective whether positively or negatively charged/ that become ours to discover/ the microcosm of one another in a wonderful world where you can be a hater or a lover/ but as of right now, you gain insight how to launch your consciousness and touch the farthest star with such bizarre artist accomplishments/ play this game by my own rules with trademark moves and classic highlights/ dominant position and escalating score statistics in the North Eastern Conference…

I spit this for Royce the 5’9” at the video shoot for Classified’s ‘Unexplainable Hunger’, and liked it so much he took me aside and talked to me for 10 minutes about how serious I have to get with my music. It’s written to the ‘Renegades’ beat. Check it:

yo, it’s several different levels to killing your inner devils/
and fulfilling your potential by ripping wicked instrumentals/
the violins might inspire violence or seismic shockwaves/
so when the song plays, close your eyes and pray in silence/
now rise and shine, wide open like legs to eggs to the fallopian tubes/
showing the nude where little boys grow a boner when viewed/
the naked truth is raping you and giving you fellatio too/
and cunnilingus with lovely english, then hugging and embracing you/
i got the car keys to the heartbeat of a godly supermodel,
body half Aria Giovanni, half Veronika Zemanova/
ugly dummies get crash tested, are their spare parts made of General Motors, or are you part  Testarossa?/ is there any electric voltage generated between your head and shoulders?…

look, i’m an artist to some, a modern Leonardo Da Vinci/
a Black Jesus, but that’s redundant to those leaders following with me/
come join the audio activists talking the blasphemous logic into your consciousness/ conquering those who cannot think since every fact is accurate/ i’m like an alien  raising hell to where spaceships exist/
one of my favorite tricks is to clip your guardian angels wings/
i decided i would do it first/ i’m brighter and faster than Lucifer/ me, him and the Goddess all bring new balance to the universe…

since i’m in a position to get inside these minds as they listen/ i’ll give advice and wisdom to children so they won’t die in a psychotic prison/
i’ma penetrate deep over this Renegade beat/ with so much love a  member could never hate me/ when I give ‘em a piece of truth their  would never say until he’s taken hostage in a Section 8 project with 7 generations of ghetto pain/ treacherous snakes wreckin their dreams leaving bad memory stains of death and hate/ history is written by the killers with the most vicious victories/ or whoever segregates and regulates the voting machines on Election Day/ I spit pepper spray raps in the devil’s face and send him straight back to Heaven’s Gate fast in a car jacked Escalade/ I’m so damn fly it takes me to the end of space and back/ forever great as I elevate rap to a better place/ with a tongue made of a 900 degree temperature flame blast/ you lukewarm rookies are more pussy than a domesticated cat/ like a flesh molester the second you enter, you get your face slapped/ sucker hustlers couldn’t even make cash in the summer at a lemonade stand/ motherfucker, it’s Mindbender, holy like Mecca/ word is born like the fourth trimester, cause i’m never fake”

I believe this song is going to be appreciated when I drop it. My little sister named it:
“Do You Believe Me Now?”
if you were raised to believe this is Heaven on Earth/
you would create your dreams and not need to believe in a devil or church/  in that special place inside, you feel it/ I don’t need intelligent words/ change is constant so realize time is money with exceptional worth/ something timeless is priceless so the rhymes I am writing/ are like a license to print million dollar bills while building a psychic alliance/ if six billion people could instantly shift their thinking to see life like invisible wizardry/ it could be called the Religion of the Individual Inner Supreme Being/ implode ignorance as minds explode like a kaliedoscope/ take the higher road as karma decides to choke a liar’s throat…”

more rappity rap rap, written long ago.
Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition (FUBAR):
rap is outta control more than EPMD predicted/
if someone says they’re an MC: be suspicious/
heads wanna know: so what you sayin’?/
some frontin’ and playin’ like they thugged their way in the industry with gunz a blazin’/ and now they’re fucking up the airwaves to the point of suffocation/ adults strangle youths with the noose of obedience/ how much proof do you need this child abuse develops rebellious deviants?/ mischievious teens then want to feel the rush of illegal stuff and good clean fun/ then proceed to drugs and stop cleaning up their room/ and tune into hip hop, goth or punk rock/ but some part are a lot different with b-boys/ some destroy peace with street noise/ some are more spaced out than Leonard Nimoy/ we can be united as one nation under a groove/ but what will the government do when they learn rap’s hustle is to smuggle the proof of corruption under wonderful beats by people who discovered the ugliest truths?
FUBAR

this shit is super powerful. I’ll stop here, even though I have an unwritten dis song to LL Cool J that I just found, and 2 solo albums of timeless lyrics from a period of my life that was really creatively expansive. This is called “African Superman”:

born a shining light in the so called Dark Continent/
if thoughts are drops of water, i’m an ocean that’s bottomless/
breastfed by the Mother of All Civilization/
Father Time is the Foundation of Life, the others are just thin imitations/
the whole village raised the child in one extended family/
storytellers shared the eternal wisdom of existence magically/
I’m the offspring of kings, but servants weren’t less than human/
I’m not a slave saved by a caveman after a fake Big Bang evolution/
and the drums are thunder from Heaven, not the devil’s music/
hundreds of years developed simplistically complex illusions/
now assembling a ghetto collection plate for reparations/
donated by an Afrocentric rebel movement/
but anyways, my adolescence enhanced my essence/
master of universal academics/
ancestors and parents understand defending the land but invaders attacked my bredren with savage weapons/
so we fought and ran and jumped and crawled and saved and braved the crazy faith games of another God/
cause nothing’s wrong with our own way/ it took a lot of hate to dominate and permanently alter the way we wanna pray/
they’re whipping our backs and chopping our feet and screwing our wives and ruining lives for amusement doing brutal sick crime/
destroying the different with total commitment/
our vocals and visions knows no difference between the Greeks, Romans and Christians…

so listen to the next chapter of an infinite story/
the conqueror loves his guns and praises himself with militant glory/
he made your history invisible, wake up like your living on no sleep/
you’re God, so  like you’re in an Olympian orgy/
you built monuments beyond common explanation/
but you’ll never know your self following this pathetic education/
system with the malfunctions built in/
to make mental glitches pop up in the minds of your children/
so they wont grow to their full potential/
the devil’s credentials aren’t what I value as the meaning of successful/
gain the whole world for the price of your soul/
life will explode pretending everything’s alright, but hope is dying alone/
the  is simply complex to the extreme, like demons on ecstacy/ how can a superhero  not knowing their own ?/
because they lied and stole and killed and crushed and used and screwed and moved you to the back of the bus/
and they lynched and hosed and sicced the dogs and sparked the fires/
kids didn’t live too long, peace to 4 little girls in Birmingham/
the words in rap confirm the fact the first is last and the last are the first/
on the spectacular earth/ before the maggots and worms in Africa’s dirt/
it’s miraculous work if the past is preserved/
come see our subliminal impact across every …”

we’ll end it like this, fun stuff:

killin ‘em with viciously vigorous stimulants like nympho women’s clittoris tickled pink sittin’ on the Sybian/ hotter than Caribbean syphillis, but my powerful sound right now is ‘bout to knock your head into oblivion

I believe my best rhyme writing can be put up alongside anyone on Planet Earth.

thank you and merry James Brown Day to you all.
even the motherfucker who is editing my god damn rhymes and fucking with my posts. fucker.
love, Mindbender Supreme