{BUSS NUTT}

{BUSS NUTT}
THE MUSIC AS I SPRAY CREAM...
http://youtu.be/CzVntqjIgHQ

You make me wanna buss nutt... cover you inna my cream.
I lost in the cum as it sprays cross your breasts... inna you pum pum hair.
Spray like a bust water hose.
Lost in the jut of your ass, the hard nipples thrusting out from your tits.
I sucking, biting and scratching my way to the back of your womb... Straining to plant my seed deeper.
Let you feel it hot on the back wall.
Feel it it as it dribbles down your pussy lips and drips to the sheets.
Lost as I beat it sideways and hear your whimpers.
" Beat that pussy daddy... Oh what you doin to me?"
Stand up in dat punani like steel in building.
Try to make you remember me even when you are out and about
A throb when you sit down... Flutters in your belly when you walk.
A full pussy when you come home.
Lost in the look in your eyes... the feel of your breath on my cheek.
The way you talk to me as this thing called life beats down.
The way you soothe the savagery of the beast that beats in my heart with the lotion that only you produce.
I lost in its viscosity wanna buss nutt.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(WISPS OF AIR)
THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0PNOAnjFPbw&feature=youtube_gdata_player

If I whispered into the air gently would you hear?
Cock your head to the side and answer me?
Your voice so familiar even though its my first time hearing it.
It exploding into my senses.
You the melody in the symphony that plays metaphysically in the man me.
If you dreaming called my name would I sit erect and look around the room for you?
Smell you in my pineals.
My third eye wide open and lucid.
I having loved thee woman in ancient times as I existed potentially as seed.
I in these modern times where I conceived realise the futility of we apart.
Levels, and degrees as we rise from our knees and stand square in our unity.
If I died without meeting you would you finding these words know that I was talking to you?
Would you hold them in your memories and take them out and stroke them at night?
Would you whisper my name gently into the air?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE CHOPPED AND SCREWED VERSION) THE NEW ABRIDGED GHETTO BIBLE
THE MUSIC...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3uJQ3TDlgqY&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Yet another day has passed and still men remain mired in the bullshit insanity of modern life.
A barbaric situation by design.
Chew or be chewed... Chopped and screwed and on some a dat purple kush.
A triple eye view of these levels and degrees... These interdemensionals and these interludes something like qualudes as a griot tries to sway institutionalized attitudes.
Dropping knowledge like Job on that ganga pipe in the bible... Cough cough. Puff puff.
Baby mama in the club with a lil bitty skirt on making it clap...
Dropping that thang to the floe, to the floe.
Baby mama selling her body so the kids got lights and she got weave to fit the tending need.
Babies in the back room as she serves the dope boy some smoking head on the living room couch... Blunts and a gun on the kitchen table, little boy peeping out.
Raw bible knowledge dropped by a dude called Black Jesus as he foretells his own return with a 40 in his hand.
I came to tell you I'm coming...
I am the messiah.
Shit is real in the filthy dirty south where the white people still rock the confederate state in they tiny little white hearts... Stars and bars and southern crosses.
A bible in one hand and the other one on the trigger of a concealed weapons permit...
Where stand your ground means you better not be black, red or brown and the trees grow mossy grey crowns bearing witness to this savage tragedy that is urban ghetto life.
Cough cough... Puff puff.
Visions of freedom drifting in the clouds of hemp smoke as Revelations become the reality...
Placenta in Pepsi and human genes in the grain as humans eat human flesh... Civilized cannibals living in the aforementioned times...
Triple beams miscalibrated on the justice scale.
Revelations and overstanding realization as another day has passed us by.
We missed the chance again
The masses mired in can't take no more and can't get up cause the man is holding em down...
They tricked into believing the hype of all their infamy.
Chopped up and screwed up.
Cough cough... Puff puff.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

I read this a long time ago, its from the book of Job CH 41verses 18 to 34. Job was puffing the ganga pipe:

18 By his neesings a light doth shine, and his eyes are like the eyelids of the morning.

19 Out of his mouth go burning lamps, and sparks of fire leap out.

20 Out of his nostrils goeth smoke, as out of a seething pot or caldron.

21 His breath kindleth coals, and a flame goeth out of his mouth.

22 In his neck remaineth strength, and sorrow is turned into joy before him.

23 The flakes of his flesh are joined together: they are firm in themselves; they cannot be moved.

24 His heart is as firm as a stone; yea, as hard as a piece of the nether millstone.

25 When he raiseth up himself, the mighty are afraid: by reason of breakings they purify themselves.

26 The sword of him that layeth at him cannot hold: the spear, the dart, nor the habergeon.

27 He esteemeth iron as straw,and brass as rotten wood.

28 The arrow cannot make him flee: slingstones are turned with him into stubble.

29 Darts are counted as stubble: he laugheth at the shaking of a spear.

30 Sharp stones are under him: he spreadeth sharp pointed things upon the mire.

31 He maketh the deep to boil like a pot: he maketh the sea like a pot of ointment.

32 He maketh a path to shine after him; one would think the deep to be hoary.

33 Upon earth there is not his like, who is made without fear.

34 He beholdeth all high things: he is a king over all the children of pride

(WHY WILLIE HAD TO DIE) A PSYCHOLOGICAL EVALUATION.

(WHY WILLIE HAD TO DIE) A PSYCHOLOGICAL EVALUATION.
THIS ONE DON'T NEED NO MUSIC CAUSE IT IN ITSELF IS A SAD SONG...

I have always wondered how black people find it so hard to grasp the concept of unity.
I mean you hear it all the time, this word, unity.
But do you ever give it any real thought?
In order to have unity you have to cross lines, mentally, religiously and in the black man and woman's case in Amerikkka lines based on skin tones.
In order to have unity you have to study what has worked for other races in the past and what once worked for us in Africa before the current system went into effect.
Our biggest problem as a people seems to be a hate for who we are and what we are.
We have no definition.
Our greatest lessons have been buried by his-story and that makes many of us turn to the same people who erased our history to teach us our story.
That has been a grave mistake as we lose ground in these modern times.
Sadly it seems we are being reverted to slavery, our reconstruction having failed.
Now I want to take a hard look at what has worked for other races who have applied the concept of unity.
First of all let's look at the white folks who say that they want us to be a part of their society, who say they care about us.
They have unity and it crosses every line that was mentioned above.
In the end it always comes down to them sticking up for them, this is apparent in every situation they deal with and is a mentality that is hard to crush.
A white person does not really care what religion another white man is he will uphold his brother even when he commits the most heinous act against another race.
He does not care that this man has features that do not match his ideal of what a white person should be or should look like.
All he knows is that this person is his brother and he stands for his brother as his brother stands for him.
A true jury of peers so to speak.
Are you following me?
Now we will mention the other races that have done this and are succeeding in this capitalistic society.
The Chinese, the Japanese, the Jews, the Indians (from India of course) and the Arabs.
Speaking of the Indians the ones in Amerikkka have gained their reparations silently by employing this method of which I speak.
This mentality.
Yet in our case it seems that we are so busy pulling against what makes us a common people and trying to be anybody but ourselves.
Our children know nothing of who they are.
The average black child cannot tell you who his great grandfather was or who Marcus Garvey was... The only racial pride he has is the use of the word nigga.
He knows that this word was used to humiliate and degrade us in the past and he uses it as his mantra.
He or she for that matter has been taught that straight hair is good, that blue or green eyes is pretty and that light skin is something to be proud of.
He or she does not think about the fact that in the not so distant past these things were the result of rape and degradation.
This needs to change.
I studied the period known as reconstruction a long time ago and it seems as if we have not even attained the status we had back then in these modern times.
There are less black businesses per ratio than their were back then, less black people in the higher echelons of white government cause that's what it is.
It seems that the greatest business for a black person to be in is selling drugs or pimping hoes if you listen to the popular music that our children subscribe to.
That needs to change.
The change begins in you.
Are you willing to see beyond the whitewash?
This is Jerald Murphy and this has been another psychological shot into the dark.
Blessings my people.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{BITTER MEDICINE}
THE MUSIC FOR THIS HEALING...
http://youtu.be/8TIHev31ugc


I who you thought had been beaten to submission have become the catalyst for your destruction.

The lessons learned in the ghetto where your police roam unabated, the fuel for the fires of your consumption.

Me as a status on your quo.

Your whip the jail cell having made I stronger... we as a people coming from its depths have the potential to tear down it walls.

Uncle Sam ain't done a damn thing for we except put his foot on our neck.

Held us down.

Some of having grown tired of this shit city Babylon seek to be free...

Looking for the blue skies and sunny days.

Trying to find a better way to sing a soothing song to our people, ease us out of this coma we seem to be in.

Patterns drawn hieroglyphic on pyramids of steel and glass that shine in this white mans utopia...

Bridges and project walls made of concrete.

The black mans hell where he fights among his own.

Wearing tribal colors while committing drive by's where innocence dies bleeding into gutters.

Is carried away as a mothers wails pierce the skies...

Her child is gone to meet the maker and her heart is rent apart.

He or she has become the statistic...

A number on a piece of paper, filed away to be used in the next election.

A politician smiling down from the pulpit on a Sunday... Smiling at the Martin Luther King rally.

Red for the Blood of Africans and Native Americans... Blue for the lumps and bruises ... White for the people who stole it all and ain't giving none back.
I who you thought you had beaten into submission have become the medicine man.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY