Buddah MAC
07-14-06, 01:16 PM
Staged Event-
*Curtain up in 10, finish getting the stage set, that sound check finished?*
Derrick Glindon, Soundman:
5th time on sound check, you’d think demands now met
to back row bass pounds yet, flawlessness; they ain’t found it
from the outset I knew this kid’d be stressin’
these “art” peeps’ll question everything plus perfection
like I don’t know my occupation or can’t match their creation
I’m runnin’ outta patience with this lack of complacence
have a setting just a shade off, you’d think ****’d get played off
but backstage they ***** and rage ‘bout how I’mma get laid off
all over this rap **** you’d think they minds is absent
to take this entertainment and claim it as something sacred
stupid thug **** spit over clips from real musicians
which they twist into some dissin or grandiose pissin’
contest, can’t rest ‘til sound test fits their ideal
but their request is just unreal, 'specially since they appeal
to legions of these teen punks, whose reason for recievin
these tickets is these quick hits are the flavor of the season
which will fade soon like how this rap crap is doomed
like me, cuz see I been settin up since noon
it’s near six now; OPENING ACT ain’t worked **** out
so **** this clown I’m done with this mix down
*Yo…that’s as good as it gonna get…curtain going up in 10, stage is ready….Buddah get set, Murda G, you on after Buddah does “Occupational Hazards”…”Resurrection” is cued…lets go people*
TONIGHT….MC MURDA G! BUT FIRST, here’s your opening act: Knewda Fact…MURDA G ON IN 30
*sigh*…yo, yo…whattup peoples? Buddah MAC in the house…this be the Resurrection…yo, yo…check it…
once my past life passed away, pastime became today
amassed clastic stray stones, blasted into clay
more accurate, malleable metal I cast as fallible set-up
for the naive labeled masses my fabled cabal slashes
but that’s after speak, for now I’m back to seek
**** that, I’ll make them find, but first must give them mind
I know my intention, in the place of their invention
warned for their protection eatery leads to their “dissention”
just a blessed infection, remember how I mentioned
the caution my voice sent came 'fore they had choice yet
and after such consequence, they expect providence
may seem like nonsense but simply the onset
of a wrong direction taken, and admittingly, I awakened
this set up they're basin’ as man’s ties to satan
how wrong they are, forgot I’m the Morningstar
along with every part of exactly where we are
went and lost the wisdom aimed toward in gnosticism
but then they made decisions that kept them imprisoned
in linear logic that kept them boxed in
a straight timeline, lost the divine mind
beginnings and ends evolve, some mysteries to solve
when the answers always existed, whether you rejected or missed it hedonistic instead of mystic, this was the risk kid
but I let my children miss this, although I suffered for the distance
the order’s in imbalance, and I give to you this challenge
regress to emanation and your facin’ we, not as alliance
but one in the same, under billions of names
thunderous claims, but, then again, that’s how I’m famed
Ricky “TrU tHuG” Grosenowski, an audience member:
Yo kid, ain’t this hype? **** is mad tight
cuz you know tonight we gone be bout it, aiight?
word, we gonna see MC MURDA G!
he got mad ice B, and like bout fitty honeys
plus guy smokes up all da time, not like our lil’ dimes
straight pounds of imported **** that’ll make ya go blind
it’s true dog, and yo, Murda even got caught
and got like 5 different trials, don’t sweat it, cuz in a while
his lawyer’ll get him free, he just pay a lil’ cheese
yo, yo, yo quiet down…you see on the stage, yo, who that be?
sheeit, opening act and this foo’ be soundin wack
where the nekked *****es at? How come he don’t flash his strap?
man, how this fool get play with all the big words dude say
I mean, beat ill, so I'mma stay and Murda’s comin’ on stage
but who likes **** like dis? ain’t no philosophy test
this some straight gangsta rap mess, damn, this Buddah NEED some cess
to relax and chill and take in those multi mils
**** some hoes & pay some bills, floss, bling out and kill
any motha****a that even lookin’ at ya wrong
then put that in yo’ next song and have it get put on
TRL, DFX and BET Rap City
with vids of puffin’ illy and in the middle of 20 titties
this kat lame as **** I hope Murda storm out ‘n’ buck
some shots at this punk biiatch….but til then I guess we watch
encapsulating creating baiting hating blading incorperating ratings…yo…
power of tectonic plate friction but no faults in Buddah's diction
true depiction when lines kick in show I never knew restriction
the weapon of my possession I’m transgressin’ your claimed perfection
so I guess then the lesson’s addressin’ your lost direction
the accentuation on creation, no lamentation of my station
instead embracin’ the sensation of innovations elevation
application of information can’t be based in complacence
as many claim the cause but most down for the clause
in this paper chasin' nation, where we facin time inflation
erasin generations’s patience as today they fast track pacin’
gaze at death; never look back, to now where the impact
is a fact but lacks marketing, so to the wrong side they harkening
spark is seen in dead eyes who’s shrouds are a disguise
they forgot ever adornin, so stuck wit subconcious mournin’
perpetually, nexus should be the commonality we share
left elsewhere in these airs as antique cares cause deep glares
of mistrust and this lust of hatred has to end
truth I send, soul holes I mend, will it hold? We’ll see then…
“Kev-man, how’s your new signee goin’?”
Kevin Stewart: tour & label promoter
'sides couple boos from the stands, **** going as planned
**** supply, I'll demand this man upon the fans
pay for the trends that make the label ends
and this kid, my friends, if you’ll look at the projections
has a good chance to be a multi-plat emcee
invest your money and he will be, once I get a chance to tweak
the style that he’s sportin’ now the message is important
but to get media endorsement, Evans, you want a snort kid?
*sniiff* we need to tone it down a lot, but leave it so it’s caught
by the fan base built, I architected this plot
on this LP we’ll have a mix, his producers for eight or six
but the rest be your picks, the guys with all the hits
throw on Swizz & Tim, Neptunes & Mista Grimm
“Grimm got no hits or nothin” shut up Steve, cuz he’s my cousin
“lovin’ these guest spots you organizing” should come as no surprise men
track record speaks for self on how I'm enterprising
back to subject, we got the usual suspects
Busta, Baby, Red, Meth, a corny skit w/ Flex
ect... and then Mya’ll wear some bare attire
for the vid, she look fly there our sales just rise higher
and that’s our first single more pop than a Pringles
can rappin’ this can happen, after the performance just mingle
with the kid at after party you can see he hardly
knows the business…and firsthand you can witness
how he’ll fit into the mold we cast to get us gold
then platinum plaques, so people just relax
and enjoy our new revenue as he makes his debut splash
...sinkin' quick in this sandstorm of eroded foundations
where capital gains leaves capital stained with antithesis of nation’s ideals…
umm..flip the beat yo…I ain’t feelin’ that mess…yeah...
stroll on the set again, so called better men get wet again
as my letters send these veterans to their fatal final missions
eyes'll wince when my vinyl spins 'n'
wax shards leave imprints in your spinal…**** that
yo, yo, yo summin’ new….it’s the Synthesis…
my skill’s a side effect of my substantive function
where sonic conduction sparks brain cell production
enough then of this bluffin’ that my spits inaccessible
when you just contest the real that I am blessed to wield
but you feel the poignant blast surge like an echo from the past heard
as modern man remasters spoken word, tasks merge
into one ultimate goal; reeducate the planet
and be sure we together banded to break through this substandard
bait that perpetuates through the state’s poison lactates
we forced to suck upon as shepherded pawns
gone are the times, son, when we can sit relaxin’
as their actions soul taxin and demands militant reaction
yet candor ever casual as this **** come natural
common sight; I backed you all into a rock hard factual
wall, this calling called for, why peeps all scream encore
in one core I bond 4 elements, then in an impassioned sentiment
tend to hit those familiar first, then disperse to those who thirst
afterwords, reaches the worst to purge the cursed I’m urged to burst profanities and “can’t you see’s?” good attempt? that’s fallacy
just frustration’s casualty, prelude to a sadder scene
Salaam “MC Murda G” Jenkins, main act this evening waiting backstage:
“damn this kid is raw, glad I saw him at that spot
3 months back, night hot, step out the club and and watched
all these kids spittin’, and I gotta be admittin’
most were on that steeze I spit to get the cheese
all on some dollas & hoes, pop ya wit’ my pistol
**** even I get sick of, that’s until this mug
steps in the middle of this thug-**** spittle
and broke down in a riddle that served to whittle
down these clowns who found cap peelin’ profound
and the message resounds as after he left I found
now, though the subject stays same they play a different game
and discuss the tragedy sustained by those who make the claims
as I do, but follow though, and I saw my work in a new
light, so now I try 'n' write about the plight
of the common confrontation of hard aspirations
in contrasting relations to victims of that creation
so I had to put him on in opposition to my songs
so the thousands who come along who wanna act wrong
can catch a bit of this so more than glitter hits
these dark minds needing light, Buddah’ll give ‘em sight
me? I can’t go back now, I got this **** down
I flip metaphysical, I’m a hypocritical clown
so I’ll keep this style of rhyme, but by giving Buddah shine
the message remains, even though it ain’t mine
I’m ghost ya’ll….freestyle on the way out tho
poetry punctuated by the rhyme inundated
and you remain fated by evading double bladed
weaponry lesson be, ****, why I gotta teach?
lessons only reach those who mostly preached
the same curriculum, guess that’s the risk you run
when you trade in quips and puns in attempts to make impressions
fresh in memory’s face how I was meant to be placed
in a battlecat arena dream I lost the taste
for, door I closed as it ain’t what I chose
cuz the battle blows got redundant as most
ways of dissin’ done before or plagiarism lore
from emcees claimin’ closeness as the same dis flexed
in different contexts, but basically same idea
and here I had to flee a collapsing conceptual construct
some ****ed as none ducked this becoming common conduct
others escaped later, but most stuck with the bait there
and remained trapped in inane raps
when 70 minutes elapse with all vain snaps
and no real content; at the end of your long set
the people all walk away just the same as they came….PEACE!
John Hanson, audience member:
yo, that cat had a nice set, knowledge delivered hype, yet
I can see how it might get, played, although I bet
kid’s LP’ll bring variety, I mean, **** ain’t inspired me
to go and seek a deity or switch my views entirely
but just to meditate on, it’s a dope creation
not like most knowledge cats whose rhymes lead to sedation
basin’ just on this show, this quality kid could blow
to the level of those flossers; platinum pros
but his flow needs adjustin’ and few beats weren’t really nothin
but a lil’ more studio accustomed and this cat could be bustin’
out classic LPs, well, play wait & see
oh, **** Buddah, here’s my dog MC Murda G!
*Curtain up in 10, finish getting the stage set, that sound check finished?*
Derrick Glindon, Soundman:
5th time on sound check, you’d think demands now met
to back row bass pounds yet, flawlessness; they ain’t found it
from the outset I knew this kid’d be stressin’
these “art” peeps’ll question everything plus perfection
like I don’t know my occupation or can’t match their creation
I’m runnin’ outta patience with this lack of complacence
have a setting just a shade off, you’d think ****’d get played off
but backstage they ***** and rage ‘bout how I’mma get laid off
all over this rap **** you’d think they minds is absent
to take this entertainment and claim it as something sacred
stupid thug **** spit over clips from real musicians
which they twist into some dissin or grandiose pissin’
contest, can’t rest ‘til sound test fits their ideal
but their request is just unreal, 'specially since they appeal
to legions of these teen punks, whose reason for recievin
these tickets is these quick hits are the flavor of the season
which will fade soon like how this rap crap is doomed
like me, cuz see I been settin up since noon
it’s near six now; OPENING ACT ain’t worked **** out
so **** this clown I’m done with this mix down
*Yo…that’s as good as it gonna get…curtain going up in 10, stage is ready….Buddah get set, Murda G, you on after Buddah does “Occupational Hazards”…”Resurrection” is cued…lets go people*
TONIGHT….MC MURDA G! BUT FIRST, here’s your opening act: Knewda Fact…MURDA G ON IN 30
*sigh*…yo, yo…whattup peoples? Buddah MAC in the house…this be the Resurrection…yo, yo…check it…
once my past life passed away, pastime became today
amassed clastic stray stones, blasted into clay
more accurate, malleable metal I cast as fallible set-up
for the naive labeled masses my fabled cabal slashes
but that’s after speak, for now I’m back to seek
**** that, I’ll make them find, but first must give them mind
I know my intention, in the place of their invention
warned for their protection eatery leads to their “dissention”
just a blessed infection, remember how I mentioned
the caution my voice sent came 'fore they had choice yet
and after such consequence, they expect providence
may seem like nonsense but simply the onset
of a wrong direction taken, and admittingly, I awakened
this set up they're basin’ as man’s ties to satan
how wrong they are, forgot I’m the Morningstar
along with every part of exactly where we are
went and lost the wisdom aimed toward in gnosticism
but then they made decisions that kept them imprisoned
in linear logic that kept them boxed in
a straight timeline, lost the divine mind
beginnings and ends evolve, some mysteries to solve
when the answers always existed, whether you rejected or missed it hedonistic instead of mystic, this was the risk kid
but I let my children miss this, although I suffered for the distance
the order’s in imbalance, and I give to you this challenge
regress to emanation and your facin’ we, not as alliance
but one in the same, under billions of names
thunderous claims, but, then again, that’s how I’m famed
Ricky “TrU tHuG” Grosenowski, an audience member:
Yo kid, ain’t this hype? **** is mad tight
cuz you know tonight we gone be bout it, aiight?
word, we gonna see MC MURDA G!
he got mad ice B, and like bout fitty honeys
plus guy smokes up all da time, not like our lil’ dimes
straight pounds of imported **** that’ll make ya go blind
it’s true dog, and yo, Murda even got caught
and got like 5 different trials, don’t sweat it, cuz in a while
his lawyer’ll get him free, he just pay a lil’ cheese
yo, yo, yo quiet down…you see on the stage, yo, who that be?
sheeit, opening act and this foo’ be soundin wack
where the nekked *****es at? How come he don’t flash his strap?
man, how this fool get play with all the big words dude say
I mean, beat ill, so I'mma stay and Murda’s comin’ on stage
but who likes **** like dis? ain’t no philosophy test
this some straight gangsta rap mess, damn, this Buddah NEED some cess
to relax and chill and take in those multi mils
**** some hoes & pay some bills, floss, bling out and kill
any motha****a that even lookin’ at ya wrong
then put that in yo’ next song and have it get put on
TRL, DFX and BET Rap City
with vids of puffin’ illy and in the middle of 20 titties
this kat lame as **** I hope Murda storm out ‘n’ buck
some shots at this punk biiatch….but til then I guess we watch
encapsulating creating baiting hating blading incorperating ratings…yo…
power of tectonic plate friction but no faults in Buddah's diction
true depiction when lines kick in show I never knew restriction
the weapon of my possession I’m transgressin’ your claimed perfection
so I guess then the lesson’s addressin’ your lost direction
the accentuation on creation, no lamentation of my station
instead embracin’ the sensation of innovations elevation
application of information can’t be based in complacence
as many claim the cause but most down for the clause
in this paper chasin' nation, where we facin time inflation
erasin generations’s patience as today they fast track pacin’
gaze at death; never look back, to now where the impact
is a fact but lacks marketing, so to the wrong side they harkening
spark is seen in dead eyes who’s shrouds are a disguise
they forgot ever adornin, so stuck wit subconcious mournin’
perpetually, nexus should be the commonality we share
left elsewhere in these airs as antique cares cause deep glares
of mistrust and this lust of hatred has to end
truth I send, soul holes I mend, will it hold? We’ll see then…
“Kev-man, how’s your new signee goin’?”
Kevin Stewart: tour & label promoter
'sides couple boos from the stands, **** going as planned
**** supply, I'll demand this man upon the fans
pay for the trends that make the label ends
and this kid, my friends, if you’ll look at the projections
has a good chance to be a multi-plat emcee
invest your money and he will be, once I get a chance to tweak
the style that he’s sportin’ now the message is important
but to get media endorsement, Evans, you want a snort kid?
*sniiff* we need to tone it down a lot, but leave it so it’s caught
by the fan base built, I architected this plot
on this LP we’ll have a mix, his producers for eight or six
but the rest be your picks, the guys with all the hits
throw on Swizz & Tim, Neptunes & Mista Grimm
“Grimm got no hits or nothin” shut up Steve, cuz he’s my cousin
“lovin’ these guest spots you organizing” should come as no surprise men
track record speaks for self on how I'm enterprising
back to subject, we got the usual suspects
Busta, Baby, Red, Meth, a corny skit w/ Flex
ect... and then Mya’ll wear some bare attire
for the vid, she look fly there our sales just rise higher
and that’s our first single more pop than a Pringles
can rappin’ this can happen, after the performance just mingle
with the kid at after party you can see he hardly
knows the business…and firsthand you can witness
how he’ll fit into the mold we cast to get us gold
then platinum plaques, so people just relax
and enjoy our new revenue as he makes his debut splash
...sinkin' quick in this sandstorm of eroded foundations
where capital gains leaves capital stained with antithesis of nation’s ideals…
umm..flip the beat yo…I ain’t feelin’ that mess…yeah...
stroll on the set again, so called better men get wet again
as my letters send these veterans to their fatal final missions
eyes'll wince when my vinyl spins 'n'
wax shards leave imprints in your spinal…**** that
yo, yo, yo summin’ new….it’s the Synthesis…
my skill’s a side effect of my substantive function
where sonic conduction sparks brain cell production
enough then of this bluffin’ that my spits inaccessible
when you just contest the real that I am blessed to wield
but you feel the poignant blast surge like an echo from the past heard
as modern man remasters spoken word, tasks merge
into one ultimate goal; reeducate the planet
and be sure we together banded to break through this substandard
bait that perpetuates through the state’s poison lactates
we forced to suck upon as shepherded pawns
gone are the times, son, when we can sit relaxin’
as their actions soul taxin and demands militant reaction
yet candor ever casual as this **** come natural
common sight; I backed you all into a rock hard factual
wall, this calling called for, why peeps all scream encore
in one core I bond 4 elements, then in an impassioned sentiment
tend to hit those familiar first, then disperse to those who thirst
afterwords, reaches the worst to purge the cursed I’m urged to burst profanities and “can’t you see’s?” good attempt? that’s fallacy
just frustration’s casualty, prelude to a sadder scene
Salaam “MC Murda G” Jenkins, main act this evening waiting backstage:
“damn this kid is raw, glad I saw him at that spot
3 months back, night hot, step out the club and and watched
all these kids spittin’, and I gotta be admittin’
most were on that steeze I spit to get the cheese
all on some dollas & hoes, pop ya wit’ my pistol
**** even I get sick of, that’s until this mug
steps in the middle of this thug-**** spittle
and broke down in a riddle that served to whittle
down these clowns who found cap peelin’ profound
and the message resounds as after he left I found
now, though the subject stays same they play a different game
and discuss the tragedy sustained by those who make the claims
as I do, but follow though, and I saw my work in a new
light, so now I try 'n' write about the plight
of the common confrontation of hard aspirations
in contrasting relations to victims of that creation
so I had to put him on in opposition to my songs
so the thousands who come along who wanna act wrong
can catch a bit of this so more than glitter hits
these dark minds needing light, Buddah’ll give ‘em sight
me? I can’t go back now, I got this **** down
I flip metaphysical, I’m a hypocritical clown
so I’ll keep this style of rhyme, but by giving Buddah shine
the message remains, even though it ain’t mine
I’m ghost ya’ll….freestyle on the way out tho
poetry punctuated by the rhyme inundated
and you remain fated by evading double bladed
weaponry lesson be, ****, why I gotta teach?
lessons only reach those who mostly preached
the same curriculum, guess that’s the risk you run
when you trade in quips and puns in attempts to make impressions
fresh in memory’s face how I was meant to be placed
in a battlecat arena dream I lost the taste
for, door I closed as it ain’t what I chose
cuz the battle blows got redundant as most
ways of dissin’ done before or plagiarism lore
from emcees claimin’ closeness as the same dis flexed
in different contexts, but basically same idea
and here I had to flee a collapsing conceptual construct
some ****ed as none ducked this becoming common conduct
others escaped later, but most stuck with the bait there
and remained trapped in inane raps
when 70 minutes elapse with all vain snaps
and no real content; at the end of your long set
the people all walk away just the same as they came….PEACE!
John Hanson, audience member:
yo, that cat had a nice set, knowledge delivered hype, yet
I can see how it might get, played, although I bet
kid’s LP’ll bring variety, I mean, **** ain’t inspired me
to go and seek a deity or switch my views entirely
but just to meditate on, it’s a dope creation
not like most knowledge cats whose rhymes lead to sedation
basin’ just on this show, this quality kid could blow
to the level of those flossers; platinum pros
but his flow needs adjustin’ and few beats weren’t really nothin
but a lil’ more studio accustomed and this cat could be bustin’
out classic LPs, well, play wait & see
oh, **** Buddah, here’s my dog MC Murda G!