Sunday, April 25, 2010
Hip Hop In My Opinion
Is hip hop really dead? Rappers aren’t selling like they used to. It’s been almost 2 years since Wayne sold a million. Em couldn’t sell. Fifty couldn’t. Kanye tried to sing his way to sales, and failed. Jay still moved units, but not like back in the day. Nas is laughable when it comes to moving soundscan numbers. X is gone. Ja is a joke now. Pac, Big, and Pun are memories of a better time. T.I.’s absence left us without a king. So the complaint is that the new breed isn’t up to par. Of course the first argument of any hip hop head is Gucci Mane. Granted he isn’t Rakim, hell he isn’t even Special Ed, you can’t ignore success. As much as you hear “Gucci sucks”, I bet you’d be hard pressed to a person without one song of his in their music library. This could be due to the fact that his recording regimen is much like Wayne’s, release so much music that you almost over saturate the market. This reminds me of the old saying, “If you throw enough shit on the wall, something’s bound to stick.” Your next argument can be Souljah Boy. Yes his raps are simple. But so were Kris Kros, Bow Wow, and Kid n Play’s. Even one of the most played rap songs of all time, “Summertime” by Will Smith, is not big on metaphor usage. If there’s one thing that hurts his case though, is that Souljah Boy’s attitude that he feels he is the best. In conclusion, I feel if we weren’t so exposed to him as a person, we would have no problem with Souljah Boy’s music. The third case is tough one. Even though the need for more spotlight on female rappers is dire, is Nicki Minaj the one that should be on the forefront? Unlike Ludacris, her over animated style is more annoying than impressive. She’s ten years too late on the outwardly sexiness that Lil Kim made you go “OMG” over. Even her claim that she’s bi induces yawns because, unlike Lindsay Lohan, we’ve seen no proof. The only comparison to greatness is her sporadic rhymes that her label head Wayne has been known, and also scrutinized, for. One thing you can say about all of these rappers is that they are forced upon us. Gucci by the amount of music, Souljah Boy by using every internet marketing tool, and Nicki her label. Real talent isn’t forced, it’s accepted. None of these artists are considered great by industry standards. If they were, then you would see a Grammy nomination in there accolades. A refreshing artist is Drake. He came almost out of nowhere and was everywhere. But it wasn’t by a media blitz that was premeditated. We as fans wanted more. In a time where we thought there were no real hip hop mainstream artists, Drake rose to the spotlight and gave us hope. But did we really need to lose hope? Sure Lupe Fiasco, Wale, and Kid Cudi didn’t do big numbers. But they’re still in it. They’re still relevant. Plus we have the artists who have that true essence of hip hop on the come up. Charles Hamilton, Asher Roth, B.o.B., Cory Gunz, are a few of the rappers that remind me of what hip hop was. But isn’t hip hop also about change? It was us, hip hop, that changed the game. Hip hop is the new pop. Hence, all of our wrongdoings and failures are under a microscope. As long as we support true music, it will win over. At the same time, there is room for more than 16 bars of sheer metaphors or wit. Remember, we had to take ODB to get Wu-Tang, we had to take Flava Flava to get public enemy. There will always be stars who should’ve stayed on the bench, but that doesn’t mean they dominate the league. Hip hop has not died. It has merely expanded.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Excerpt from my book, ADDICTED
The First Hit
“Yes, Shawn! Right there! Don’t stop!” I have no idea what I’m doing. But whatever it is, I must be doing it right. It’s like 45 degrees but the fog on the windows of my mom’s Cadillac tell a different story. Forget the cold outside. Inside it’s burning up! The clothes are in the front seat, we’re in the back. It’s pitch black outside and the only street lamp is at least 40 yards away, on the other side of the lake. Yeah, no one around to worry about getting caught. I can concentrate on Ebony and not coming too soon. That’s all that matters, right? How did I get into this? Into this situation? Into a relationship? Into this girl? Literally. I remember meeting Ebony through a friend. He was in ROTC and so was she. A senior, already 18, on her way out of school. I was only 16. Ignorant and cocky as fuck. I have the pretty skin, the braids, the charisma, and a smile that could bring peace to the wars in Somalia. Yeah, I said I was cocky. But Ebony was top of the high school totem pole. She was a dark chocolate, which usually isn’t what I go for, but damn. She was maybe an inch shorter than me but had such a small frame that next to me she seemed tiny. She had the long hair that I love, all hers. Deep brown eyes that let you know right off the back whether she was being real with you or bullshitting. And if I had known what thicker lips were good for at that time I would have definitely paid more attention to hers. She was athletic, as you could tell from her body. Everything tight and perky. Ass and chest big enough, but not too big to hinder her from being a jock. I probably wouldn’t even try to holler if it wasn’t for my boy. He caught me watching her one day and made the challenge that, til this day, stays in the back of my mind. “If you can pull her, then I’ll be convinced you can have any girl you want.” Right now I’m really feeling like that. She’s moaning and squirming underneath me. Far from the 15 minutes ago when she was in pain with tears in her eyes. This was her first time too. Now I’m the one feeling pain. Her nails are clawing on my back, and the sweat is stinging the scratches. But the pleasure I feel is no match for petty pain right now. That’s what Tylenol is for anyway. She’s begging me too kiss her. I peck her lips. Damn, its hot in here. She wants me to kiss her deeper. I want to but I’m scared. That might be too much. And I’m not entirely sure if she had an orgasm yet. I can’t bust now. So instead I go harder, making slow stabbing thrusts that I know are touching new ground. What did I just hit? I hope she’s okay. “Oh shit nigga! You got extra dick I didn’t know about?!” Yeah, she’s okay. I’m worried, yet proud of how I’m making her body convulse in every motion I try. I’m pretty good at this fucking thing! Every place I grab is slippery due to our bodies dripping with sweat, and now this new liquid that has gather around our thighs. “Did I cum?” Shit, I was only supposed to think that. Not say it! “No, baby! I did. Twice!” She did? She did. SHE DID! TWICE! That’s my dick! I did that! Whoa buddy, concentrate on the task at hand. You not done yet. Of course, cause once I get home with the car smelling like this I know I’m in trouble. Better enjoy myself now. The cocky nigga in me comes out. “Who runs this pussy? Who does this pussy call when it needs to be treated?” Did I just almost quote Ghostbusters? “Shawn runs this pussy! Oh Shawn.! Kiss me!”No way to escape it. She grabs the back of my neck and pulls me closer. Damn, I have never kissed so deeply in my life. I don’t know which was deeper inside her. My tongue or my dick! She’s jerking more than before. Something in me says “This is it champ! Time to make it official!” I start fucking with a passion. This is my pussy and I’m gonna make sure she knows it too. Her breathes are short and heavy. If the bitch is dying she gonna die happy! “I love you!” What the fuck? “Shawn, I love you!” Okay bitch, I heard you the first time. “Tell me you love me before I cum.” Uhh, now is NOT the time to lie. So I speed up my strokes, to fast and stabbing, knowing she can’t take it. “Love? You want love?” Hey, I’m just asking. “Yes Shawn. All of your love.”
Of course she does. “Well take this!” It isn’t love but she won’t know the difference. “Oh shit Shawn! I’m coming!” “Me too!” Wow, what a feeling! Yeah, that was definitely me this time. Glad I found a way to dodge the love bullet, I say that we ought to get going. “Yeah we should. Just let me get myself together for a moment.” Take your time. I’m good. Need to defrost these windows anyway. Ebony gets out the car to get some air and gather her bearings. Oh shit! “Baby, you okay?” “Yeah. It’s just hard for me to stand right now.” Yeah. I did that. The way I feel right now is incredible. I’ve never been high before, but this must be what it feels like. I don’t look at Ebony the same way anymore. She’s no longer the girl I wanted to get with. Even though she’s my first, I already think of her as a notch, a number. Sweet girl, but there’s gotta be more. “Get in the car. I’m taking you home.” I never smoked a day in my life. I’ve never used drugs. I don’t believe in gambling. I have yet to take a sip of alcohol. But as I look at this beautiful girl that I’ve just experienced paradise with I know one thing, SEX is my addiction!
“Yes, Shawn! Right there! Don’t stop!” I have no idea what I’m doing. But whatever it is, I must be doing it right. It’s like 45 degrees but the fog on the windows of my mom’s Cadillac tell a different story. Forget the cold outside. Inside it’s burning up! The clothes are in the front seat, we’re in the back. It’s pitch black outside and the only street lamp is at least 40 yards away, on the other side of the lake. Yeah, no one around to worry about getting caught. I can concentrate on Ebony and not coming too soon. That’s all that matters, right? How did I get into this? Into this situation? Into a relationship? Into this girl? Literally. I remember meeting Ebony through a friend. He was in ROTC and so was she. A senior, already 18, on her way out of school. I was only 16. Ignorant and cocky as fuck. I have the pretty skin, the braids, the charisma, and a smile that could bring peace to the wars in Somalia. Yeah, I said I was cocky. But Ebony was top of the high school totem pole. She was a dark chocolate, which usually isn’t what I go for, but damn. She was maybe an inch shorter than me but had such a small frame that next to me she seemed tiny. She had the long hair that I love, all hers. Deep brown eyes that let you know right off the back whether she was being real with you or bullshitting. And if I had known what thicker lips were good for at that time I would have definitely paid more attention to hers. She was athletic, as you could tell from her body. Everything tight and perky. Ass and chest big enough, but not too big to hinder her from being a jock. I probably wouldn’t even try to holler if it wasn’t for my boy. He caught me watching her one day and made the challenge that, til this day, stays in the back of my mind. “If you can pull her, then I’ll be convinced you can have any girl you want.” Right now I’m really feeling like that. She’s moaning and squirming underneath me. Far from the 15 minutes ago when she was in pain with tears in her eyes. This was her first time too. Now I’m the one feeling pain. Her nails are clawing on my back, and the sweat is stinging the scratches. But the pleasure I feel is no match for petty pain right now. That’s what Tylenol is for anyway. She’s begging me too kiss her. I peck her lips. Damn, its hot in here. She wants me to kiss her deeper. I want to but I’m scared. That might be too much. And I’m not entirely sure if she had an orgasm yet. I can’t bust now. So instead I go harder, making slow stabbing thrusts that I know are touching new ground. What did I just hit? I hope she’s okay. “Oh shit nigga! You got extra dick I didn’t know about?!” Yeah, she’s okay. I’m worried, yet proud of how I’m making her body convulse in every motion I try. I’m pretty good at this fucking thing! Every place I grab is slippery due to our bodies dripping with sweat, and now this new liquid that has gather around our thighs. “Did I cum?” Shit, I was only supposed to think that. Not say it! “No, baby! I did. Twice!” She did? She did. SHE DID! TWICE! That’s my dick! I did that! Whoa buddy, concentrate on the task at hand. You not done yet. Of course, cause once I get home with the car smelling like this I know I’m in trouble. Better enjoy myself now. The cocky nigga in me comes out. “Who runs this pussy? Who does this pussy call when it needs to be treated?” Did I just almost quote Ghostbusters? “Shawn runs this pussy! Oh Shawn.! Kiss me!”No way to escape it. She grabs the back of my neck and pulls me closer. Damn, I have never kissed so deeply in my life. I don’t know which was deeper inside her. My tongue or my dick! She’s jerking more than before. Something in me says “This is it champ! Time to make it official!” I start fucking with a passion. This is my pussy and I’m gonna make sure she knows it too. Her breathes are short and heavy. If the bitch is dying she gonna die happy! “I love you!” What the fuck? “Shawn, I love you!” Okay bitch, I heard you the first time. “Tell me you love me before I cum.” Uhh, now is NOT the time to lie. So I speed up my strokes, to fast and stabbing, knowing she can’t take it. “Love? You want love?” Hey, I’m just asking. “Yes Shawn. All of your love.”
Of course she does. “Well take this!” It isn’t love but she won’t know the difference. “Oh shit Shawn! I’m coming!” “Me too!” Wow, what a feeling! Yeah, that was definitely me this time. Glad I found a way to dodge the love bullet, I say that we ought to get going. “Yeah we should. Just let me get myself together for a moment.” Take your time. I’m good. Need to defrost these windows anyway. Ebony gets out the car to get some air and gather her bearings. Oh shit! “Baby, you okay?” “Yeah. It’s just hard for me to stand right now.” Yeah. I did that. The way I feel right now is incredible. I’ve never been high before, but this must be what it feels like. I don’t look at Ebony the same way anymore. She’s no longer the girl I wanted to get with. Even though she’s my first, I already think of her as a notch, a number. Sweet girl, but there’s gotta be more. “Get in the car. I’m taking you home.” I never smoked a day in my life. I’ve never used drugs. I don’t believe in gambling. I have yet to take a sip of alcohol. But as I look at this beautiful girl that I’ve just experienced paradise with I know one thing, SEX is my addiction!
What makes you do it?
This is the question that I get asked more than anything. What made me try acting? Was it drama in school that pushed me to be the first student in 25 years to represent Lower Richland High School in the state arts program? Or was it knowing that the person who did it 25 years ago, who was also the first black drama club president, was my aunt? Funny how things happen.
What made me want to rap? Was it the fact that 2Pac, Nas, Oukast, and Eminem influenced me so much that I actually wanted to follow in their footsteps? Was it that I was used to being onstage and I wanted the spotlight even more? Was it because I knew no one in my family believed in me? Maybe it was because I wanted to say something I thought was important.
What made me want to write a book? Was it a playwright telling me that, no disrespect to my acting abilities, but I should concentrate on writing? Was it because all my raps were a story in themselves? Was it my experiences? Was it the fact that my character went through the same struggle that I did? Could it be that I finally took the advice my 10th grade English teacher gave me? Perhaps I was just bored.
What made me try stand up? Was it that people said I belonged on someone's stage? Was it because someone told me it was hard? Was it because I feel like the best thing I know how to do is make people smile? How about it could be that I've experience so much pain in my life that I'm finally strong enough to laugh at life? I smile thinking of the many reasons.
What made me decide to propose? Was I comfortable? Did I finally see that there was nothing past her in my life? Was I ready? Am I tired of being asked when it was going to happen? Did I find my soul mate? Only me and God know.
See, everything we do has a reason. Maybe a reason we don't even see right away. I still don't know why I rapped. Maybe it's because of where I grew up. I know why I quit though. I know that I love to write, do comedy, and my fiance. Alot of people are scared to try the things I've tried. I've met a man who died lonely, a kid who had potential singing who had stage fright, a girl who wrote beautiful poetry but never revealed her talent, and a funny guy who never bothered to pick up a mic. I do this because I'm not scared to live. I may be scared of death, and who isn't, but I believe in enjoying and experiencing life. I encourage anyone who reads this to try and succeed at whatever you feel you can do. There's no regrets in knowing you lost. But there are regrets if you never tried to win.
What made me want to rap? Was it the fact that 2Pac, Nas, Oukast, and Eminem influenced me so much that I actually wanted to follow in their footsteps? Was it that I was used to being onstage and I wanted the spotlight even more? Was it because I knew no one in my family believed in me? Maybe it was because I wanted to say something I thought was important.
What made me want to write a book? Was it a playwright telling me that, no disrespect to my acting abilities, but I should concentrate on writing? Was it because all my raps were a story in themselves? Was it my experiences? Was it the fact that my character went through the same struggle that I did? Could it be that I finally took the advice my 10th grade English teacher gave me? Perhaps I was just bored.
What made me try stand up? Was it that people said I belonged on someone's stage? Was it because someone told me it was hard? Was it because I feel like the best thing I know how to do is make people smile? How about it could be that I've experience so much pain in my life that I'm finally strong enough to laugh at life? I smile thinking of the many reasons.
What made me decide to propose? Was I comfortable? Did I finally see that there was nothing past her in my life? Was I ready? Am I tired of being asked when it was going to happen? Did I find my soul mate? Only me and God know.
See, everything we do has a reason. Maybe a reason we don't even see right away. I still don't know why I rapped. Maybe it's because of where I grew up. I know why I quit though. I know that I love to write, do comedy, and my fiance. Alot of people are scared to try the things I've tried. I've met a man who died lonely, a kid who had potential singing who had stage fright, a girl who wrote beautiful poetry but never revealed her talent, and a funny guy who never bothered to pick up a mic. I do this because I'm not scared to live. I may be scared of death, and who isn't, but I believe in enjoying and experiencing life. I encourage anyone who reads this to try and succeed at whatever you feel you can do. There's no regrets in knowing you lost. But there are regrets if you never tried to win.
This Is Me
Welcome to my world, my thoughts, my opinions, myself. This is where you will get the real Tre'. Not the comedian you see onstage or on youtube. Not the uncensored, push-the-envelope Tre' from twitter. This is pure, unfiltered me as best as I can bring it. I'm not trying to be as entertaining as I am on those venues as much as I want to be thought and share my views on certain things we experience in the world. Here you won't find near as many curse words that you read from thetruth003. Neither will you laugh as much as visiting Tre's Comedy Channel. If you want to experience either of them, I encourage you to click on the links on my page and enjoy yourself.