Lupe Fiasco's "The Coolest" song lyrics
-----------------------------------
The coolest niggah... what? [X16]
Lord please have sympathy, and forgive My Cool Young History, as
The coolest niggah... what? [X4]
[Verse 1]
I love the Lord,
But sometimes it's like that I love me more
I love the peace
And I love the war
I love the seas
and I love the shore
No love for no beach
baby, that's loyal
But she doesn't see, therefore I spoil
I trip, I fall
run up and brawl.
I love her, with all my heart
Every vein, every vessel,
every bullet lodged
With every flower that I ever took apart
She said - that she would give me greatness,
status, placement above the others
My face would grace covers
of the magazines of the hustlers
Paper, the likes of which that I had never seen
Her eyes glow green with the logo of our dreams
The purpose of our scene,
The obscene obsession for the bling
She would be my queen,
I could be her king
Together, she would make me cool
and we would both rule, forever,
And I would never feel pain
and never be without pleasure, ever, again
And if the rain stops,
And everything's dry
she would cry
Just so I can drink the tears from her eyes
She'll teach me how to fly
Even cushion my fall
If my engines ever stall
and I plummet from the sky
But she will keep me high
And if I ever die
She would comission my image on her bosom
To hum
Or maybe she'd retire as well
A match made in Heaven set the fires in Hell
and I'll be...
The coolest niggah... what? [X8]
Lord please have sympathy,
And forgive My Cool Young History as
The coolest niggah... what? [X4]
[Verse 2]
And so began our reign
The Trinity, her and I came
No weather man could ever stand
What her and I can
Hella hard
Umbrella, whatever,
put plywood on propeller panes,
And pray to God that the flood subside
'cause you gonna need a sub till he does reply
And not one of Jared's
You think it's all arid
and everything's irie
Another supply
That means another July
Inside my endless summer
That was just the eye of the Unger
Felix, 'cause he is the cleanest among the
Younger, outstanding achieving up-and-comers
The ones that had deadbeat daddies
and well to do mommas
But not well enough to keep 'em from us
The ones that were fightin' in class
Who might not pass
Rap record pressure to laugh
and a life not fast
"Can you feel it?"[echo]
That's what I got asked
"Do I love her?"[echo]
I said I don't know
Streets got my heart, Game got my soul
One time's my sunshine will never hurt your soul
Quote
To a crying, dishonored baby momma
Who's the momma to a daughter
That I had fathered from afar
My new lady gave me a Mercedes
and a necklace with a solid gold key
Like the starter of a car
The opener of a door or two pounds of raw
You gave me a baby, but what about lately?
then ha-ha-ha-ha-ha'd
Right up in her face, G
There's more fish in the sea,
I'm on my mission to be, be
The Coolest niggah... what? [X8]
Lord please have sympathy,
and forgive My Cool Young History
The Coolest... what? [X4]
[Verse 3]
Come. These are the tales of The Cool.
Guaranteed to make you go and fail from your school
And seek unholy grails like a fool
and hang with the players of the pool
Fast talkin' on the hustle
No Heaven up above you
No Hell underneath ye
and nowhere will recieve thee
So.
Shed no tear
when we're not here
and keep your faith,
as we chase
The Cool [echoes]
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Friday, February 20, 2009
Dream Job Writing Exercise
This is a writing exercise we did to visualize our dreams in my senior seminar class. Retrospectively, I think I was the only one being truly honest...so this is a chronological day in the life of Joe in his dream job.
I wake up in my hillside villa overlooking the lush foliated Capitol City of my modern socialist nationstate, comforted by the soothing hands of my many wives. I attend my late breakfeast prepared in my personal kitchen by professional chefs: before attending meetings from my cabinet which updates me with economic, security, and political issues facing our nation. I hold no official office of course, praised only as the Great Educator.
Driving my armored Mercedes into the valley, I admire the sustainable homes which make their own electricity and clean their own water while also serving as botanical gardens for the people who have access to free internet communications and the right to free speech. Even speech in opposition against their Great Educator himself.
I will drive to the Government Center and give my webcast on today's issues and then take calls and emails from concerned citizens for the rest of the day. After filling out paperwork, writing moving speeches, and preparing policy for the nation, I will go out to my car and start the drive back to my villa and sixteen wives.
In transit the smart missile fired by Capitalist opponents will destroy my vehicle and send pieces of my body flaming into the hillside of the paradise I built with a pen and my hand. The citizens will erect my likeness atop the hill overlooking the capitol.
And my statue will erode in centuries, protecting it with lost ideals.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Poverty Commentary
A commentary I wrote for the IUK Correspondent
-----------------------------------------------------------
Poverty is the worst form of violence.
~ Mahatma Ghandi
I had experience the homeless and panhandlers in Chicago and Washington D.C., but other than a subdued visual notion, I had never been approached in Kokomo by those asking for money. On my way walking downtown to do yet another interview for a story in this paper, I came across a man who begged me for two dollars and insisted it wasn’t for liquor and that he was homeless. I could only provide a dollar in quarters (for I rarely carry cash on me), but I was willing to give it none the less. Even if he had said he was going to use the money for alcohol or even drugs, I would still have given it to him as there is a bigger problem at work than any of the man’s potential habits. The Jews had practiced in ancient times, anonymous donations, where the donor would not know to whom the money went or for what reason. Too often we try to judge those we give to and arbitrate our giving by such judgments.
Later on the same day, I was approached by another man in downtown Kokomo, who rode up to me on a bicycle and told his story of being fired from his job before even thinking of asking for money. It isn’t until you’re shaking hands with a man who felt he had to show you the calluses on his hands to prove that he was, “a working man” who had just fallen on hard times, it doesn’t become apparent how shameful and ignored the poor of this nation are.
It’s hard to ignore a problem when you are covered with body odor from a man not having a shower to clean themselves in that is so strong it has affected your scent by just by being near them or if you still have the soot from their calloused hands on yours.
When I stood there shaking that man’s hand and after regretfully showing him my own empty wallet, it became cemented in my mind the truth of this country’s dire economic situation. While Wall Street continues to show record booms and experts reject the use of the word “recession,” you come to see face to face how much narrower the gap between the middle class and the poor has become and how much wider it is getting from the upper classes. America is most certainly a regional and regimented country, differing from place to place heavily, so what effects one part is different from another in terms of demographics, economics, and many other conditions, but none of this can rectify personal experience in your home town.
I do not fear nor am ashamed for those who are homeless or below the poverty line; I recognize a common humanity and even worse: a potential future for myself and America. The old saying goes: “Give a man a fish and he’ll eat for a day, teach a man to fish and he’ll never go hungry,” and while I’m not any good at fishing, I still have to wonder, is this really true in America anymore? How many educated individuals actually have skills in their area of expertise, but they simply have no jobs because industries that need those skills have moved away?
Are we really in control any more? How many of us run a business, have a steady job, feel they live on an adequate salary, feel rested and content about their economic condition at work or even at home?
Jesus Christ knew that one cannot solve the crisis of poverty alone as he says in Mark 14, “the poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want,” and we will never see the end of the poorest class, but we can affect its numbers greatly through political and economic policy as a Nation.
Is our need for specialties to match a growing rate of technology outpacing our individual and generational ability to learn new crafts? Will the young constantly replace the old until they themselves are old and once again outstripped of their professions? How much does a corporate policy of outsourcing affect our living conditions and status as a Nation?
Likely we are at the beginning of a fulcrum for America, a point at which we must either change our methods, learn to compete globally while focusing locally through sustainable economic policies, or watch as regions of our country become zones of poverty severe in comparison to so-called “Third World,” nations. Already we see the consequences on places such as New Orleans. With numerous layoffs happening, even locally, we can feel its effects. Many of us, including myself, have family members, friends, or loved ones who’ve lost their jobs, many who worked at a career for many years, only to be cut off before retirement. Are we to believe that these businesses who proclaim record profits on Wall Street are really so strapped for money that they must prevent having to pay out retirement packages for their aging workers and instead abruptly terminate their careers?
I don’t have any definite answers, I’m just tired of shaking hands with homeless men, I’d rather shake hands with them when they’ve had enough to eat and can go to a place they call home and sleep in comfort.
--------------------------
Poverty is the worst form of violence.
~ Mahatma Ghandi
I had experience the homeless and panhandlers in Chicago and Washington D.C., but other than a subdued visual notion, I had never been approached in Kokomo by those asking for money. On my way walking downtown to do yet another interview for a story in this paper, I came across a man who begged me for two dollars and insisted it wasn’t for liquor and that he was homeless. I could only provide a dollar in quarters (for I rarely carry cash on me), but I was willing to give it none the less. Even if he had said he was going to use the money for alcohol or even drugs, I would still have given it to him as there is a bigger problem at work than any of the man’s potential habits. The Jews had practiced in ancient times, anonymous donations, where the donor would not know to whom the money went or for what reason. Too often we try to judge those we give to and arbitrate our giving by such judgments.
Later on the same day, I was approached by another man in downtown Kokomo, who rode up to me on a bicycle and told his story of being fired from his job before even thinking of asking for money. It isn’t until you’re shaking hands with a man who felt he had to show you the calluses on his hands to prove that he was, “a working man” who had just fallen on hard times, it doesn’t become apparent how shameful and ignored the poor of this nation are.
It’s hard to ignore a problem when you are covered with body odor from a man not having a shower to clean themselves in that is so strong it has affected your scent by just by being near them or if you still have the soot from their calloused hands on yours.
When I stood there shaking that man’s hand and after regretfully showing him my own empty wallet, it became cemented in my mind the truth of this country’s dire economic situation. While Wall Street continues to show record booms and experts reject the use of the word “recession,” you come to see face to face how much narrower the gap between the middle class and the poor has become and how much wider it is getting from the upper classes. America is most certainly a regional and regimented country, differing from place to place heavily, so what effects one part is different from another in terms of demographics, economics, and many other conditions, but none of this can rectify personal experience in your home town.
I do not fear nor am ashamed for those who are homeless or below the poverty line; I recognize a common humanity and even worse: a potential future for myself and America. The old saying goes: “Give a man a fish and he’ll eat for a day, teach a man to fish and he’ll never go hungry,” and while I’m not any good at fishing, I still have to wonder, is this really true in America anymore? How many educated individuals actually have skills in their area of expertise, but they simply have no jobs because industries that need those skills have moved away?
Are we really in control any more? How many of us run a business, have a steady job, feel they live on an adequate salary, feel rested and content about their economic condition at work or even at home?
Jesus Christ knew that one cannot solve the crisis of poverty alone as he says in Mark 14, “the poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want,” and we will never see the end of the poorest class, but we can affect its numbers greatly through political and economic policy as a Nation.
Is our need for specialties to match a growing rate of technology outpacing our individual and generational ability to learn new crafts? Will the young constantly replace the old until they themselves are old and once again outstripped of their professions? How much does a corporate policy of outsourcing affect our living conditions and status as a Nation?
Likely we are at the beginning of a fulcrum for America, a point at which we must either change our methods, learn to compete globally while focusing locally through sustainable economic policies, or watch as regions of our country become zones of poverty severe in comparison to so-called “Third World,” nations. Already we see the consequences on places such as New Orleans. With numerous layoffs happening, even locally, we can feel its effects. Many of us, including myself, have family members, friends, or loved ones who’ve lost their jobs, many who worked at a career for many years, only to be cut off before retirement. Are we to believe that these businesses who proclaim record profits on Wall Street are really so strapped for money that they must prevent having to pay out retirement packages for their aging workers and instead abruptly terminate their careers?
I don’t have any definite answers, I’m just tired of shaking hands with homeless men, I’d rather shake hands with them when they’ve had enough to eat and can go to a place they call home and sleep in comfort.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
City on a Hill
I took the name of my blog from a short poem I did.
-------------------------------------------
Conceal your ears and passions,
When the smiling man says,
We will be as a City upon a Hill,
No Ideal lasts outside the mind,
Of the Mad King,
Burn the bridges of that City,
Flood the moats til' bursting,
The Levees drown the fires,
Then hurl your stones ov'r,
And watch collapse with pleasure.
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