• » Name: Meka Soul
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Slap-Boxing With Jesus

Anatomy Of Fuckery

Contrary to popular belief, I’m not dead.

Real talk is that I’ve been fed up with certain muh’fucks that unfortunately are a part of my cipher, and – without going into details – I’m unable to shake loose from for the time being. Sad (well, sad to me at least) thing is, their suspect influences was almost enough for me to call it quits here.

But how I look like folding to such malarkey, despite these smart dumb cats trying to turn sugar into shit, especially considering the shit I get from the random-ass mucklucks who drop scathing comments about my name, sexual preference, masculinity, intelligence and/or whatever else I’ve failed to mention? Fuck that, you know I can’t leave the game alone. Not when there’s still that vitriol in my system I won’t.

Especially when there’s such inspiration found from the imbecility of the world’s denizens. In that sense, they make the everyday struggles I face seem trivial; at least in my defense I’m not a drug-addled, former top-selling artist. Shit, I’m too lazy to even get out of bed some days, so needless to say “rapper” is not really my forte.

I suppose the best part of being in my position – that of a quasi-broke, semi-frustrated and constantly aroused blogger/journalist – is that I don’t have to worry about ending up in some random-ass situation that would likely involve either jail time or, even worse, a scarlet letter running around telling my business in the hopes of garnering a few paychecks from Random House.

Not to defend misogyny like I’m an advocate for slapping women through walls, but it’s easy to see why the majority of music today consists of “hump ‘em, pump ‘em and dump ‘em” jibba jabba. However, the shit that repels women has a reverse effect on the slores of the world, because we all know most rappers are idiots that couldn’t think with the brains if it were attached to their bozacks.

[||] to that last line, of course.

What never made any sense is how such artists seemingly want to throw away their success and newfound fortune. Yet at the same time they’re still allowed to run wild, despite their idiosyncratic malfunction. Honestly if I had were a cop I’d just lock up most of these rappers… after abusing my powers to the fullest, of course.

Please. Like any of youse wouldn’t abuse your power if you became a member of the bacon battalion.

Anyways, there’s no logical reasoning why a rapper want to risk losing it all for whatever cheap thrill they get from whatever illegal activities they engage in. I’d blame the crack, but even I don’t think a drug made from products found in your bathroom sink would drive anybody that kooky. Then again, DMX has been setting the standard for crack-inspired court cases this entire summer now, so I could be wrong. And in that sense, my own issues shouldn’t really trouble me because I could be doing a lot worse, like Mos Def.

Damn, homie.

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