“Keep my name out yo’ mouth, speakin’ on thangs that you don’t know ‘bout.” Shout-out to “x to the z, Xzibit” for releasing the latest rap tune inspired by yours truly, “Shut Yo Mouth.” Hate me or hug me, as long as you’re thinking of me, it’s lovely. When I was about 9 years old, back in 1996, my love for lyrics, cadence, and style in rap music was reinvigorated when I heard Twista’s verse on Do or Die’s “Po’ Pimp.” I still remember the spine-tingling sensation that I experienced the first time I heard the song. But anyhoo, with Valentine’s Day approaching, how do you feel about dedicated—and ostensibly mandated—celebrations of everyday events and emotions? When it’s genuine, love is never fleeting or fickle. So, what exactly is the point of holidays honoring habitual human happenings? Well, if you don’t know, Valentine’s Day is historically held in commemoration of a Christian martyr named Saint Valentine, who was killed for being a healer, a teacher, an unofficial officiant, and providing sanctuary to the condemned. Because legend has it that Valentine defiantly ordained marriages for those forbidden to marry, the holiday in his honor has become a highlight for lovers reveling in romance and submersing in steamy sensuality. When I was a teenager, again I rode MARTA to and from school, and every single day at a particular train station, this weird-ass black couple would sit facing me on a bench, side-by-side, with their heads leaning on each other, and they’d just fucking stare at me and smirk. The couple had to be in their early-30s, and I don’t know what the fuck was wrong with them. If you’re merrily married or ecstatically entangled, how wacky are you willing to get for fun, and how wonky does things get when your partner is worrisome? Some people believe that unconditional love is unhealthy and unsafe because it sometimes involves ignoring “red flags,” enabling unwarranted and unwanted behavior, settling for less than what one deserves, jeopardizing outside fair and functional relationships, and worse. Personally, I believe that everyone should shimmy to their soul’s song as long as it keeps them safe, sane, and satisfied. To some, seeing someone single is shameful, and a sign of something seeming substandard about or satanic inside said someone. And the way I see it, being seen as something that one isn’t by some who seem to overlook how sightless and sickening they are is what motivates one to stay stress-free and single. How many of y’all are sick of being lonely? My haters hate me so much, they (allegedly) cut a check to the one chick that I was considering checking for, and caused her to cross me. However, from my perspective, what’s meant to be will be, and there’s plenty of fish in the sea. It’s clear to me that y’all don’t have a clue just how fucked up y’all got me, but I digress. Additionally, for the fuck boys who feel me but find it hard to follow me, forget about it! I walk around broke and bummy, and bitches still be on me. Either you have it or they ain’t having it, so just be yourselves. In his classic feature verse, Chicago’s talented Twista boasts, “I neva gotta tell ‘em any lies! Have ‘em lookin’ in the city skies! Get up in a kitty’s thighs! ‘Cause I’m blessed with the look of innocence, good sex, peanut butter complex, and some pretty eyes!” I’m not chasin’ no chickenheads, nor any chaste and choice women. Either you fuck with me or you don’t, and I think that “take me as I am” attitude is appropriate when approaching or being approached by a person of interest. Once more, self-hatred is sadly a symptom of society suffering to successfully solve its sucker shit problem. While weakness is wreaking havoc on the weary, we’ll watch the world run rampant with wickedness and be weaned off what’s real.
Congratulations to Doechii, who’s still currently my favorite rapper, for winning a GRAMMY for “Album of the Year,” which was well deserved. I’m a little late on that, but I didn’t watch the ceremony. Moving on, like I’ve mentioned, I’m no stranger to strangers being strange for my attention. No, I’m not alluding to anyone specifically, but there’s a lot of silly and suspicious shit going on in black culture that baffles me. For the record, I’m not the jealous or envious type, which means I don’t give a fuck about other people’s pockets, plans, possessions, partnerships, places, etc. Please, apply that information as you see fit. Does seeing someone with a person that you like, have lusted after, or attempted to link with make you feel some type of way? Listen, life ain’t nothin’ but lessons and learning how to let go from what you’re losing. Y’all, some of these niggas have everything that they’ve ever dreamt of, which may be more than what I even want, and they are jealous and envious of me because I’m unconcerned with and unbothered by the things that matter to them but I’m still confident. And you know these motherfuckers have me and life fucked up when they’re trying to give me affirmations, like I’m not their biggest source of motivation, and as if I’ve ever sought their validation. In relationships, respect and the reciprocation of said respect are paramount, right? So, if disrespect can disconnect a connection derived from devotion, that same disrespect is going to have a discernibly more dramatic and devastating effect when displayed outside a devoted connection. It’s dangerous to be self-centered in a world where balance is centered around the reciprocation of respect. Unfortunately for y’all, there are plenty of you that I will never respect! And that’s of your misfortune because we all know how powerful my presence, passion, and prolific nature can be. You’re entertainers, and I’m fuckin’ evolutionary! We ain’t the same—in real life. Rest in peace to Irv Gotti, and my condolences to any of his loved ones who may read this. I’m a fan of folks who can view the value in seeing how valueless validation from unvalued people is, and Irv was one of those folks. Hip hop is hell for a healthy helping of heathens and hell raisers, and it’s hard to help unhealthy people who happily head hellish lifestyles. I saw a clip of Amy Winehouse dancing on stage days before her passing while I was scrolling social media the other day, and it made me think about how fame eats people alive. Without question, the most interesting people are those who are “interrupted”—broken or obstructed by life’s trial and tribulations—but insistent on existing. What do you think your life purpose is? And by that I mean, if there was only one thing that you are meant to accomplish before you say “fuck it,” what would it be? Honestly, I just want to be successful. But the thing is, none of you motherfuckers get to dictate what success is for me! Drake and Trey Songz got the “the money, money and the cars, cars and the clothes, the hoes” that they so desperately desired. Diddy got his “money, power, and respect.” How much of what you want can be taken away from you? Because you can succeed at failing to accomplish your goals, in the same way that other people can succeed at snatching away your accomplishments. Do you think success can even be permanent? If you love yourself enough, you can live your life like losses are the detour for switching over to a luckier lane. Or eventually, despite the inconvenience, once you’ve been forced to switch lanes time after time, and you realize that lane changes are just a part of the journey, you’ll consider the ability to maneuver from lane to lane without crashing as the successful development of a skill. And if you’re really on point, you’ll recognize that skillfully maneuvering through traffic is the best way to get ahead of everyone else, and you’ll be hopping lanes before you can even be detoured. That may be a funny analogy, but the point is, just keep your drive! Peace.