Lecture on Shakespeare and Hip-Hop (Wu Tang heavily mentioned)

[grt05]

I wasn't sure if I should put this in the Hip-Hop section or the Wu Tang Chamber.

Akala is a rapper from the London. Here he gives a short lecture on Shakespeare and Hip-Hop, our often false preconceptions of them and the similarities between them.

He also mentions Wu Tang Clan quite a bit at the beginning and again later.

[Edgar Erebus]

Next lecture: Influence of Nietzschean concept of will to power on 50 Cent's lyrical topics and motives.

[theheavens]

reminds me of the book Book of Rhymes: The Poetics of Hip Hop, which is the best at combining hip hop lyricism with literature. but this guy is pretty cool. haven't heard his music though

[grt05]

One of the illest to ever come out of UK hip-hop.



Sorry kids let me apologize before I go further
Unfortunately I don’t rap about how many man I have murdered
And you may find it boring appalling and I ain’t scoring braps
From your little rat packs for just stating facts
See I lack not the ability to murder man lyrically
I just thought that killing should not be glorified, silly me
Apparently murdering man has become an aspiration
But what would happen if you reversed the situation?
Every black rapper claiming he clap a black in the face, talked about killing white people as much, would he still get embraced?
Or would you find the applauding would quickly turn to appalling and you got no career here by the next morning
I ain’t saying you should do that, it is true that would be just as dumb
I am just pointing out how absurd it has become
If a Chinese rapper were to say die ‘Chink’ die
Everybody would be like ‘What is wrong with this guy?’

But some of us have become so accustomed to just behave disgusting
We think it’s just our behaviour and it ain’t worth discussion
Or worse yet that it is cultural expression
But who owns Baretta and who owns Smith and Wesson?
Who owns the car you’re driving that you think’s defining who you are
Running from yourself you’ll find there is no hiding
So you can boast about your Prada and your Christian Dior
Still security will follow you when you’re in the store
And you can boast about your platinum chains and your diamond rings
While kids in Sierra Leone keep on losing limbs
Act like you got no brain and you ain’t got no shame and say so what I am getting dough
But you’re pawns in a game
They are laughing at the little coons
Who really think they are goons
Real goons don’t wear platinum chains they wear ties and suits
They don’t live in estates and sell flake
They invade with guns and tanks and take your whole state mate
So pardon me if I don’t find it funny
You boast about it but do you even know what is money?

See it’s hard to act dumb when you have read a couple hundred books
But still in anybody’s hood so tell me who is shook?
When you have been to Brazil and stood in favela streets next to kids holding hand grenades and M16s when you come back to London it ain’t serious
The ghetto is in our heads
We are delirious
If you lived in a real slum without food or running water
Where police drive by and kill sons and daughters
You would give your right arm just to go to school
Instead what do we do?
The killer the trigger the play the fool

I ain’t saying school is the answer, educate yourself
See it’s not the money you make, you are the wealth

I ain’t saying we ain’t got a struggle right here in Britain
But you’re taught to act inferior and play position perfectly
It’s disturbing me, the verbal murder be absurd to me
It occurred to me if you have not heard of me
It’s probably because I do not rap about Gucci and booty
Quite enough for the urban scene to fully salute me
But I don’t really care, I’m too busy writing my master thesis
It’s hard to play the stereotype when you study Egypt
Plus urban scene we’re racist to ourselves
Elevating words of hate we’re merely hating ourselves
And if you are musically broad or dare to speak intelligent
People look at you like who the hell you think you are better than
I’m better than no-one on this earth and I know I’m not
But I refuse to play small just to fit in your box

And I don’t hate none of these other rappers
In fact it’s quite the other
Look at me as your bigger wiser older brother
And as a brother should I tell you you’re in trouble
If they clap when you’re talking of killing do they really love you?
If record label bosses kids were dying, would they sell us violence
As quickly as they are ready to desensitise us?
They tell you to shit on your floor while holding all the scoops
Then throw you a bone like a dog jumping through a hoop
Don’t take it as a compliment because it is not that
If I tell you that you’re African you tell me it’s not that
But humanity is African even if not black
The truth can be painful
Sshhh better stop that
It’s so inconvenient
For those at the top that you talk too much truth and you might just get popped at

And if women are such hoes that we do not want to kiss them
What does it say about us that we want to put our dick in?
I’m done with the lies third eye open wide I see the tougher that you act the weaker you really feel inside
So all the killer the trigger and when we call ourselves niggas
And want platinum chains bigger than jigga’s
It’s just to run from the fact that we feel insecure
Get as many things as you want but you cannot restore
The core of who you are truly that will surpass beauty
That comes from knowledge of yourself and a sense of duty
So all my brothers pretending that we are thugs
Know if we are honest we just want to be loved

But we feel that we are not worthy and that we are not smart
So we act aggressive to protect our fragile little hearts
But we’ve got to deal with this pain or it will consume
That’s enough honesty now lets resume…

Turn this off go back to rappers that tell you kill
But inside of yourself you know that this is real
Akala on sbtv DOUBLETHINK May 3rd check the CD
If you want a little knowledge bigger than college
I PROMISE YOU the metaphorics that will offer you solace like…

The Great Pyramid alone 2.3 million stones
If you took them apart and placed them in a row
They would stretch 2/3 way around the earth
That is more stone that there is in every single British church (put together)
Each one cut to a degree of accuracy of 1/1000 of an inch
Well what does that mean?
In 1978 the Japanese ran an experiment to rebuild them with modern technology and failed terribly

But anyway that’s enough for today.

[Kriszy Substance]

Thanks for the post. I watched the video and enjoyed a bit but lost interest cause it felt a lil too academic but I really enjoyed the lyrics you posted and loved all the Wu references. This guy has a great brain and talent...just gotta do something about that accent

[grt05]

NOTE TO MOD: Please move to a different part of the forum

Here's his new F64. It's probably the best rap story i've heard come out in years.



Michael was another that lived without the love of a mother nor the other
Not the story of a brother not using a rubber
Father was a militant Rasta back in the early 80′s
Licked banks built hood schools so you could learn your babies
Of course poser
Jag with the chauffeur
Also sent paper to the rebel fighters in Angola
Cos back then the OG’s understood the mission of the system for planting division in the hood
Real real soldiers
Spirit hustle may be part of living
If you did it never spat it in your lyric
They was training raising bars martial arts kicking a teddy boys ass taking a scholarly class
Mind sharp

Inspired by the Marleys and Arleys and Panther party’s
Saw the road as a means to an end for real shit they starting
The movement got devoured
You know the system cowards
That Rejected anything thats a threat to the power
Locked up the militants labeled them schizophrenic
Liquid cosh their necks so they could never defend it
The rest
Never been soldiers
Look how they folded
Soon as the moneys involved with
Crack hit in ’86
Lit a spliff with boulders
Michael’s father was a last of a dying breed
Coulda Been the leader that we need but we didn’t heed
With the entrepeneur mind like SB
Our Potential will blossom if it just left be
But Pigs killed him
Not the first won’t be the last
But he made the news the day the trials starts
What a farce tryna charge police even with the footage showing them over his dead body laughing they got released
That’s when Michael's mother lost it
he was just a toddler
Sent to live with grandmother too sick to raise him proper
By the time granny died mum was an alchoholic
And touched the crack too but never recovered from it
So care homes for Michael
Where he kept getting neglected
What becomes of the little boy who gets molested
How does he admit it
And tell the world about his deathwish
Its easier to play hard and just get arrested

Did I mention a genius with maths and science
And finally he’s got a teacher that is really trying
Jane Taylor
Half Irish half from Grenada took this little boy & showed him love and saw what he was made of
KHHUK
But the years out and primary school is over now he’s losing his mother figure again so he’s turning colder
Cos secondary is never steady deadly for many
Frightened by the height and the fightin ever ready to expell em or dispell em
Whatevers in their melon
And of course other youts wanna shank em and shell em selling or not
Every other day your getting searched
When it first happened to Michael
You know his pride was hurt
But their were many many
Felt a violation of his fathers memory
Every time he stood their pockets getting emptied
But all they found was Algebraic equations that he was blazing
He Kept his love for the knowledge dispite his teachers hating
But when your school dinners free
And you can see
Socks bursting out of your shoes
What will it be?
When your elders say pick up this Q make P

It aint rocket science your a smart kid your aiming for a key
Watch how many doors and more legs it opens
Promoting the key to ya never tell you about the doors it closes
But Michael new the cycle and what it might do
He seen enough crashes but he jumped on the bike too
Cos love from the olders made his shoulders feel bigger than boulders
And most of the things that we do we just wanna be noticed
So he hustled harder
Leader like his father
He aint a schoolboy no more he’s deep in the drama
Youngest in the click
Quickest with a brick
Sickest with the stick
Stuck up grown men
Rep getting big
down in Bond Street shopping
Should of been in Year 11
Living like a spoilt rich kid
But even more depressing
Where the trigger pressing take you quickly where your destined
And quickly you learn that’s its sick and just how quick ya bredrins snake ya
For paper and he was no safer
Than any other thug with a stick might make ya
Touch 21 and he seen enough paper
And enough death to take ya breath to your maker
But
Was never that mean couldn’t be seen
Dealing with pregnant fiends
His boy told him the games that dirty
Maybe you should leave?
Plus he got a queen and she aint on the hype
Aint impressed by the bullshit
Coulda been the wife
But when Mike got shift again sent for another bird
Stacey said that’s the end and woulda kept her word
But her belly started bulging
She took the V.O and told him
Its still over I aint raising my yout on the road ting
But Michael insisted and listed reasons why its different
He grew up without a dad and swore that his yout would be different
Stacey looked into his eyes and saw that he meant business
Kissed him and told him she missed but play your positon
She got visions of them living when he was out of prison
He gave his lines to his boys made it an early Christmas
The babys born he named him after his pops
But he aint seen him yet didn’t wanna meet him in the box
So all they got is pictures
Feeling complete without the riches
Having all a man really needs a baby and a missus

Two weeks from his release with the picture in his hand
Another inmate ran up on him with the shank
Tried to buss his throat
Quick reflex
Micheal raised his arm just about managed to protect his neck
They fought and wrestled
He looked into his eyes
And to his surprise
He finally managed to recognise
Little P
He used to take his paper away
He swore that he was such a dickhead that he did it bareface
If you learn nothing learn any dickhead can kill
And everybody bleeds aint nobody made of steel
Little P stuck the shank in
Tore apart micheals flesh
Michael pissed and shit on himself and took a breath
His last
Choked to death on his own blood
Never went out like scarface
Know one ever does... in the real world
One bag a mandem doing life
Wasting away wanking and worried about their wife
Who’s bending her over and giving her the pipe
I don’t care who you are 30 years is a bloody long time

In the real world
We have dreams and feelings
When they get crushed that’s when we turn into aggresive demons
Never been saying I don’t get the aggression
But lets not pretend that we’re rebelling
By selling what we are selling and shelling a brothers melon
And kicking eachothers head in that is what we are defending
In the real world we don’t run the road
They run the road
The same people you pay Tax to shit is cold
You think they won’t shot food and make law
This aint nutten new look up the Opium wars
Spiteful spiral inner city cycle
Deliberately designed to
The question is now
Who’s gonna raise Michael

[Socrates92]

Heard some stuff from this dude a few years ago, does anyone remember Ms Dynamite? They're bro and sis