I try to make it a habit to write at least 2 new songs a week. Most of them don’t ever make it out of my mouth and into the air. They usually stay on a piece of paper in some random spiral notebook. The other day when I was on my way home from Fresno I was listening to Jack Johnson and realized at that moment I needed to write a rap. So I pulled out my trusty Powerbook and started typing away. Here is what I have so far…
I’ve got dillusions of things much greater than sugar highs and apple pies
And the little yellow bow, at the end of my kite, waving back and forth, way up in the sky.
I feel I need, something just a bit more, than a 4.0, and homecoming court
And that letter on my chest sayin I am the best, Sally in the band has one just like the rest.
Why can’t I just roll in my 5.0, with my ho’s in check, I a’int talkin’ no Vette,
I want slammed to the floor, 22’s on show, all the ladies at da club, want some of Los
Bling Bling, if ya know what I mean, Bottles of Crystal, it ain’t nothing but a C thing.
…so I went ahead and ripped off Jack’s “Cookie Jar” riff. I flowed over that. I’m going to play this at Coffee Depot a week from Thursday. Most people know that I love to rap. But I only know 2 raps in their entirety.
Colors – Ice T
Straight Outta Compton – N.W.A. (God Rest EZ E)
This is obviously going to be focusing on who you tell me I should be vs. Who I wish I could be and landing with a flow about who I actually am…
I’m just a brown preacher neck from the central I.E.
Rollin with my girls in my red Camry
I got hardly any hair on the top of my head
Every night “it” ain’t happening cause Sohaila’s in my bed
I’m just a down home brother, redneck undercover
Rippin raps from Mr. M-R-A-Z
And I don’t know how I made it, ’cause this flow is just outrageous
Representing all you from the I.E.
OK. I need to stop.