The Death of the Dream

What it look like folk? Your square host Steez at your service. I've been having a good time since my last post for the most part. Watchmen was that shit I highly recommend it to y'all. Lots of sex and swinging penis but all together a good film. Uhhhh what else? Oh!!!! No gold star for any of y'all on guessing the identity of the man in the pic on the last blog. It was Ralph Lauren. But a silver star for southern gal, she knew it was a designer. I see ya guuuuuurrrrrl. I think that's it so we gonna get into it aiight? Shall we....

I am not a rapper. Nor am I an MC. This is the realization that I have come to over the past few months. I love hip hop and will never stop listening to it. But I'm done trying to PERFORM it. Not because I can't or even shouldn't. Its just not my passion anymore. Listen people, I used to DREAM in rhyme form. Now? I leave it to the muhfuckas that wanna put their time in and chase that. I'm done, I'm hanging up my mic.

It has been over a year since I really wrote a rhyme. The hip hop that ejaculated lyrics and fertalized my mind, giving birth to my dream is dead. Well, not dead, but definitely in a place where I could give less than a fuck about it. Somewhere in the dark corners of my mind keeping the sparse memories of my father company. Lil Wayne is the best rapper alive. Nas has more or less been banished to be a novelty since destroying Jay Z. Why the fuck would I want to be a participant in that world? Truth is, my reason for even wanting to was stupid to begin with. Maybe that's why I didn't make it. Maybe I subconsciously handicapped myself from the start....

I'll kick a rhyme that you can dream to/get seen through/livin proof/ that you could spit the truth/ and get cream too/just like a phoenix/risen out the ashes/flicked from hashish/between unsigned and classic/is where my mind clashes/and burns.....

Yeah that's some shit I spit like 5 years ago. When my stomach was full of fire. I could TASTE my record deal. I was gonna change the world with my rhymes. Uncover social injustice, rep Pittsburgh, impress the hip hop heads, and make the broads dance. All at the same time. I was the shit. I knew it. Nobody else did. So here I am. But fuck it.

But I ain't just quitting. I'm going to write more than ever. Its just not coming out lyrically. I've realized that my passion is writing. Not raps per say, but just using words to communicate thoughts and feeling. From this blog to other shit that I write. I will always write. Its all I really know how to do well. So I'm awake from one dream only to find myself lost in another. Life is wild like that I guess. So I will leave y'all with one of my rhymes. And close the book on that rap shit. This is an excerpt of what will most likely be the last rap I ever wrote. Enjoy.

Another year wasted/so close I can taste it/I can't stop/promised some dead folk I would make it/late to my date wit death/ cuz I ain't never say yes/and I believe on some levels/I'm afraid of success/people jumpin on my back/every time I rap/ sayin things like "you gotta put the burgh on the map"/I appreciate the love/ but I rock the way I rock/and if I put em on the map/ they'll just want a bigger dot/demand bigger and bigger/ till I can't deliver/ then I'm wack/ and they say I can't rep the Rivers....

I'm out.....