• » Name: Meka Soul
• » Location: Los Angeles, CA
• » Member Since: 04/09/07
• » Bio: Providing clarity in hip-hop since 1981.
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Slap-Boxing With Jesus

He Said, She Said

I guess I should let everybody know that since I’ll be moving on Saturday my mind is on other things, so entries from yours truly will be sparse for a minute. I’m pretty sure my brethren are more than capable of holding it down, however.

Consider this Meka Soul’s art of storytelling, part one.

Part of the reason I try not to expose my inner workings to this world is because a) it’s rather odd to try to gain empathy from a bunch of faceless individuals, some of which live to disagree on my shit and b) I’m too much of a dickhead at times to even warrant compassion. In other words, don’t cry for me Argentina.

But in actuality, I’ve been trying to live life on La Isla Bonita for a cool ass minute, trying to make sure I have a decent foundation for my future younglings as well as hopefully garnering the attention of my eventual queen/wiz/concubine, so I’ve considered these blogs a way of expunging the frustrations of my every day life from my system so that whenever I do meet that one for me I won’t be as, well, fucked up [1].

Yeah, right. As long as there are rappers who still insist on shopping at the Baby Gap, I’m still gonna be around pulling rank. Seriously folks, smedium shirts are just wrong: like, how is your shirt tight like a Jew but your asshole’s more open than the border? I guarantee when a muh’fuck farts that shit whistles like a teakettle.

But I digress.

Maybe it’s best if some of us never even got into this rap shit. Think about it: there’s no kind of family structure, and the game has regressed into nothing more than people more than willing to tomahawk chop you in the back for their own comeuppance. Is it any wonder why crews don’t really exist anymore? I give props to the brothers Thornton for proving me wrong [2], however. If for anything, they’re proof that despite label drama, falling out with close friends [3] and having a career that’s seen more false starts than a deaf track and field runner, the family that stays together makes it together no matter what. We may be living in a new testament, but tomorrow is never guaranteed. And if I get popped like Omar did last night [4], then here’s to hoping that the ones I care about will be at my wake dressed in Dunks. I wouldn’t expect anything less.

[1] Crazy thing is, I ended up meeting someone spectacular a while back, only to fuck that up. Story of my life, I suppose.

[2] As well as the fact that there a lot of dope things from that region.

[3] If you’ve played We Got It For Cheap Vol. 3 as much as I have since it dropped, you’ll know what I mean.

[4] Yeah, I fucked it up for those that didn’t watch it. Sue me; I don’t like that show anyways.

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