w00hw00h In reply to Zebrapantz [2004-04-07 10:06:44 +0000 UTC]

really?...it seems to be working with my viewer

um...dont really know a solution, sowee

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w00hw00h In reply to muniekito [2004-03-04 08:34:07 +0000 UTC]

wow, thanks...just made my day

happy livin

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w00hw00h In reply to ajd [2004-02-12 06:13:02 +0000 UTC]

no prob...your work is amazing

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w00hw00h In reply to jmraspa [2004-01-18 21:27:31 +0000 UTC]

I met this girl, when i was ten years old
And what i loved most she had so much soul
She was old school, when i was just a shorty
Never knew throughout my life she would be there for me
Ont he regular, not a church girl she was secular
Not about the money, no studs was mic checkin her
But i respected her, she hit me in the heart
A few new york niggaz, had did her in the park
But she was there for me, and i was there for her
Pull out a chair for her, turn on the air for her
And just cool out, cool out and listen to her
Sittin on a bone, wishin that i could do her
Eventually if it was meant to be, then it would be
Because we related, physically and mentally
And she was fun then, i'd be geeked when she'd come around
Slim was fresh yo, when she was underground
Original, pure untampered and down sister
Boy i tell ya, i miss her
Verse two:
Now periodically i would see
Ol girl at the clubs, and at the house parties
She didn't have a body but she started gettin thick quick
Did a couple of videos and became afrocentric
Out goes the weave, in goes the braids beads medallions
She was on that tip about, stoppin the violence
About my people she was teachin me
By not preachin to me but speakin to me
In a method that was leisurely, so easily i approached
She dug my rap, that's how we got close
But then she broke to the west coast, and that was cool
Cause around the same time, i went away to school
And i'm a man of expandin, so why should i stand in her way
She probably get her money in l.a.
And she did stud, she got big pub but what was foul
She said that the pro-black, was goin out of style
She said, afrocentricity, was of the past
So she got into r&b hip-house bass and jazz
Now black music is black music and it's all good
I wasn't salty, she was with the boys in the hood
Cause that was good for her, she was becomin well rounded
I thought it was dope how she was on that freestyle shit
Just havin fun, not worried about anyone
And you could tell, by how her titties hung
Verse three:
I might've failed to mention that the shit was creative
But once the man got you well he altered the native
Told her if she got an energetic gimmick
That she could make money, and she did it like a dummy
Now i see her in commercials, she's universal
She used to only swing it with the inner-city circle
Now she be in the burbs lickin rock and dressin hip
And on some dumb shit, when she comes to the city
Talkin about poppin glocks servin rocks and hittin switches
Now she's a gangsta rollin with gangsta bitches
Always smokin blunts and gettin drunk
Tellin me sad stories, now she only fucks with the funk
Stressin how hardcore and real she is
She was really the realest, before she got into showbiz
I did her, not just to say that i did it
But i'm committed, but so many niggaz hit it
That she's just not the same lettin all these groupies do her
I see niggaz slammin her, and takin her to the sewer
But i'ma take her back hopin that the shit stop
Cause who i'm talkin bout y'all is hip-hop
common-iusedtoloveher

--jacks--->

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jmraspa In reply to w00hw00h [2004-01-18 23:37:15 +0000 UTC]

So true... here's one for you:

Manifesto this is what we want to see happen
for my peoples still breakin graf writin and rappin
I rock the mic right and exact my life's my sacrifice
Take my mic and I'm like a Chinese man with no rice
Oh yeah we flippin through the pages of time to find design
Like Vaseline on the faces of Black Georgia we shinin
Deeper than petroleum jelly we in the air like conversations
on celly and just appear like stretch marks on bellies
after givin birth you had to let go, you playin for life
The Manifesto, here comes the beat because I said so keep pushin
I got the cushion for the seat of your soul
Back in the day they stole our smile, so we clothe our teeth in gold
and we frontin, from nigga to kid, to Son of God
It's wild dependin on labels for man woman and child
My style just is, all that's seen and all that's heard
God gave us music so we play with our words
So when Tek be in constant meditation like a monk
while Kweli speaks in tongues to get your intellect drunk
yo we bound to take over the 90% of your brain that you ain't usin
To us it's life or death we keep you chosin

Every shook eye ain't seen, every goodbye ain't gone
Ain't no rest for the weary yo forever it's on
The Manifesto, establishes a hip-hop order
Movin upon the face of the water, like Reflections

Aiyyo all the real MC's can meet me outside
So we can decide how we gonna change the tide
like the moon we on the Earth takin a ride around the Sun
Now Son we only just begun, and the journey's far from done
We all miss you, what your brain gone fishin like Walter Mosley?
There's an MC that can hold me, supposedly?
No one could come close to me, only, the family really know me
Hip-Hop's last hope like Obi Wan Kenobi
Through your television I'm shinin light like a train
Comin out like earthworms when it rains, bringin it
like the C.I.A. be bringin in crack cocaine bailin out of planes
with the George Bush connections, I push Reflection
like I'm sellin izm, like a dealer buildin the system
Supply and the demand it's all capitalism
Niggaz don't sell crack cause they like to see blacks smoke
Niggaz sell crack cause they broke, my battle lyrics
get concious minds provoked and ghetto passes revoked
cause we surrounded by the evil, you know that the people's minds
is feeble they believe in it, even if it don't make sense
This makin dollars shit, don't take a scholar to
see what's goin on around you, either you widdit or you ain't
is what it comes down to, have you forgotten?
We pickin 100% designer name brand cotton
They still plottin, my Third Eye is steady watchin

Every shook eye ain't seen, every goodbye ain't gone
Ain't no rest for the weary yo forever it's on
The Manifesto, establishes a hip-hop order
Movin upon the face of the water, like Reflections

(Yeah see that's what I'm talkin about, it be the slaughter man
We need to break it down because these heads
they don't know what they talkin about
Frontin all this nonsense, yo break it down)

From open mics to solutions I got a collage of answers
and a ten point program, just like the Black Panthers
One: First respect yourself as an artist
If you don't respect yourself then your rhymes is garbage
Two: Make sure your crew is as tight as you
cause when them niggaz fallin off they gonna bring you down too
Three: Understand the meaning of MC
The power to Move the Crowd like Moses split the seas
Four: Know your shit and don't ever be blunted
If you don't know what your words mean then your rhymes mean nothin
Five: Kick facts in the raps, and curse with clarity
What's a curse when language is immersed in vulgarity
Six: We gonna fix industrial poli-tricks
Shit they made an artform out of ridin dicks
Seven: We soldiers for God needin new recruits
So if you rhymin for the loot then youse a prostitute
but Eight: Acknowledge that you need food on your plate
In order to say your grace make sure your business is straight
Nine: We buildin black minds with intelligence
and when you freestyle, keep the subject matter relevant
Ten: Every MC grab a pen
and write some concious lyrics to tell the children
I'll say it again, every MC find you a pen
And drop some concious shit for our children
The Manifesto!

Jon

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