{OF CLOUD AND STONE}

{OF CLOUD AND STONE}

THE SOUNDTRACK IS ME READING THIS PIECE... MAKE SURE YOU LISTEN....
http://youtu.be/i6DcNqjEWDo

And if I could I would reach into the sky and pull down a piece of a cloud...

Soften these harsh realities for you... These hard truths which so many lie upon while trying to find rest.

The pattering rain would be the shower and the driving storm would be the massaging... the wind the water jets.

Trying to meld the ancient and the modern...

Trying to show you that its all the same.

Yesterdays, todays and tomorrows that never seem to come as the world turns.

If I could I would confront governments and secret societies and talk to them of the will of Allah.

I know its been tried but I just gotta... I just gotta.

Tell them to free the masses so that we can travel to distant suns where our relatives await us...

We been down so long... Been gone so long... Been done wrong.

Lies have become the way we live... War and devastation... Pestilence and diseased minds.

No one cries when the baby is born but it ought to be that way... Baby got so much to face.

A participant in the game of life... Pawn, bishop, fallen kings and queens... got to get some a dat back.

If I could I would work in a lab to create an Injection  that would inoculate you against being used and abused.

Introduce it intramuscular into your physiology... Let it make its way to your psychology.

Get you to see that this place you inhabit... These things... They are not reality.

That we are not these savage beings that are the result of religion and caste system...

Of being beaten into an altered state of thinking that its normal to charge for natural things...

That we own the land, the water, the air that we breathe.

They were here before we came and will be here long after we are gone.

Yes... If I could I would reach into the sky and pull down a piece of a cloud but I'm here on earth and all I got is this stone.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE MAN IN THE BOAT) LET ME SEE DAT SPURTONGUE

(THE MAN IN THE BOAT) LET ME SEE DAT SPURTONGUE


Mannnn... I love a big clit.
I love big booty mind you but a big clit drives me fucking wild.
I love it when it peeps out.
When it stands up and I suck it in my mouth... Swirl it around on my tongue.
Drink of its flavor... Its bouquet.
A big clit makes my blood tingle in my veins... Puts goosebumps on my flesh.
I suck in air.
Got to make it cum so that I may savor its flavor.
Fine wine tis it.
I standing and drooping big dick pon it... Spanking it as the droplets splatter my skin.
Damn I love big clit, pulling lips back and sliding thick dick in... Pushing legs back so that it stands.
I want to see that clit as I beat the back of your womb.
Pull out and rub head on it.
Make you cum again and again... Soak the sheets.
Beat it from the back and rub it trembling and quivering.
Pull out and spray your ass... Your pussy... Your clit.
That is the shit that excites my wild.
That juicy clit.
The beast and I turnt straight the fuck up.
Fucking wild.


JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE POETRY ASSASSIN)
THE SOUND...

He slings lyrical hails of poetic gunfire into the crowd.
Those hit fall to the ground... Slugs lodged in craniums rattle around and confound the unenlightened and confused among the black and brown...
The dark skinned and light skinned descendants of those stolen from the banks of where where this thing humanity began, a lump of clay caressed and formed human.
Brown eyes open as if for the first time suspended on the rhythm rhyme as it dribbles down optimus prime.
Sweet like honey on a queens lips as a poet sips of her succulent ooze that leaves him staggering like some one hundred and fifty proof booze, drunk on her fermentation and numbly intoxicated to the pain, the healing of a nation as she causes vibrations sonic.
The sound of a bullet whining ricochet, fragments spray shrapnel away as the crowd parts in disarray
A poetic warrior spraying lyrics AK on a Monday.
Mossberg with a pistol grip strong as his slugs hit home.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE WARRIORS LONESOME LAMENT)
THE MUSIC... MAKE SURE YOU LISTEN...
Love Beat: http://youtu.be/slFxBpLoXBI

He lies back and let's her run through his mind.
She has no form but she is tangible.
A thought in the corner of his mind, in the recesses of his psyche.
A sigh escapes his lips.
Maybe he will go into the flow never meeting her.
Maybe he has met her when he was younger and didn't know how to fully appreciate a queen.
So many thoughts as he alone contemplates her and she grows form.
Born of his grey matter she is the stuff of his most vivid dreams.
He who has everything he could ever want...
Grandchildren, children and knowledge... He has paid a substantial price for it is hard on a warriors family.
The battlefield so lonely.
It being the place of his internment....
He sighs and rubs an old scar, a reminder that pain can be overcome.
He wonders why his heart aches if that is so.
Why his soul is flooded with metaphorical tears.
Why he is so tired.
She grows into a solid and he reaches out...
She disappears...
Such anguish that he finds himself confronting.
He fears.
They say that for everyone there is someone.
She recedes into his mentality.
Even warriors are allowed their  dreams.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

A Poetry Month picture prompt ...

I posted this picture earlier, it is a picture prompt, meaning that it is designed to elicit a response.
I would really like to make this a collaboration with as many writers as possible participating.
I have posted a prompt at the bottom to help you get started.
You can write off of me or you can do your own thing.

We the result of the union of a seed and an egg and the division of cells find ourselves in these modern times.
The world has rotated and revolved around the sun for billions of days to place us here.
Without you I am nothing, without me you are left alone.
Where do we go from here?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(GHETTO SCION) THIS PIECE WAS INSPIRED BY THE PICTURE AND THE MUSIC... IT WAS WRITTEN TO THE MUSIC...
Airlock- On The 2nd Floor: http://youtu.be/DmwpWTNA3fw

These lyrics be funkin in my mind...
And I...
Have to scribe them down...
And they be breaking down walls and shattering glass as their black and white sonics fall onto computer and phone screens...
These lyrics carry imagery and hyperbole, the whine of the bullet and the smoke off a bowl inhaled.
These lyrics just won't let a brother go...
And they.
Feel so familiar and foreign all at the same time as they rip a hole in the deepness of a man's soul.
He bringing them forth to be perused and under stood by the 85 percent.
These lyrics become the roar as the man becomes night, day and the spaces unseen.
Screaming in rage against the machine.
He neither smoke nor fire but something in between as the lyrics burn internal.
Pour from him as lava incinerating all in his path.
Dragon fire spilling from his lungs and vibrating his vocal cords.
These lyrics...
These fuckin lyrics won't let go.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(BRIGHTEST LIGHT)
THE MUSIC...
Groundation - Grounding Dub: http://youtu.be/B9s2fq0Ycmg

I who once was a sun in a far distant galaxy and an asteroid smashing into a prehistoric earth...
I who once was particles of carbon and the chemical equation h2o.
Born and dying on the way to becoming who I am now.
I who once built pyramids and roamed in the desert as Israelite.
Fought an angel and dislocated my hip.
Left my wife standing as a pillar of salt... Caved in a giants head with a sling and a stone and saved Egypt and the Hebrew nation from starvation as a famine swept the land.
I who once stood and prophesied to dry bones and made them into a mighty army... Wooed the queen of Sheba and built temples dedicated to the wisdom of god.
Slew ten thousand with the jawbone of an ass and stood as lion in a den of lions...
Walked with angels in a furnace of fire.
I who built an ark and floated on a global sea...
Walked as a prophet, a warrior and a king.
Was robbed of my heritage and treated as a beast... My image stripped of color reflecting stained glass... See?
I who built a country on my shoulders and my back as they raped the bodies of my queens and the brains of my seed.
I who once dangled from the branch of an oak tree like a decoration on the pagan holiday Christmas... Bloodied and beaten like the image on the cross on the pagen holiday Easter.
I am that I am in the knowing of these things.
Son of man, son of god, sun.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(I MET JEALOUSY IN THE GHETTO EATING A TOMATO AND LETTUCE SANDWICH)
THE MUSIC...
"'Til Death" Instrumental (Fredo Santana, Lex Lug…: http://youtu.be/xX7fyYID418

Jealousy is a motherfucker with a capital M.
It's queen Envy standing by its side as it whips its fiery steed, standing in a blazing chariot.
It eats the fabric of hearts as it fires consume sanity...
Jealousy has no pity... It's cold fingers touch everyone, young and old.
Jealousy is a bitch and jealousy can be a whore, selling herself to the masses, legs splayed wide.
Take that shit from me.
I knew jealousy one time and jealousy whispered to my psyche... Fuck that shit up cause it ain't yours, what gives him the right?
And I waged jealousies war... Havoc and mayhem ensued as I raging from the ghetto was released.
The mark of the beast.
Fire burning bright releasing embers sparkling into the black of city nights.
Consumed by the insanity of jealousy.
I the sword of his making.
None could stand in my Jealous way.
Many cringed in fear of his wrath as he and I ruled with iron fist.
Jealousy the motherfucker was once my king and I rode in his honor... Flew his flag.
So sad that I and he have become enemies.
Jealousy really had the ability to inspire.
Dirty motherfucker.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(A DROP OF SHE) SENYRU... INSPIRED BY DENISE GORE @INSTAGRAM
THE MUSIC...
Free Kendrick Lamar Type Beat - Coma (Prod. by mj…: http://youtu.be/ycLdFZZv08k

(AHHHH)
Her echo is breeze
She sighs in my ears sweetly
My roots grow solid

(SHE)
I hear her roar soft
Permeating to my core
Lost in her motion

(SURPRISED)
A butterfly she
Flitting and flashing beauty
A warrior gasps

(Me)
I and she mirage
We glimmering distantly
Born of sand and sun

(WE)
A drink of water
Nourishing and cool, refreshing
Soul penetrating

(TOUCHING)
She is flower bud
Petals laid open, displayed
I peruse them close

(PINEAL)
In a man's grey matter
She becomes his fantasy
He digresses deep

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(I HEARD A NIGGA DIED) A ONE WORD SUBMISSION BY MY BROTHER MARLON WYCHE...
THE MUSIC FOR THIS UN...
Hard TrapBeat Instrumental *Golden* (Prod. By Lim…: http://youtu.be/uuVtaS4KlO4

Man why niggas got to die, born into a hood that don't give a fuck bout em any motherfucking way.
Chew they asses up and spit em out... Fully formed.
Why niggas got to die in fucking courtrooms and on fucking corners .
Shot by the fucking police.
Why the fuck niggas got to die?
And a Mama cries cause her baby is gone.
Victim of this reality where niggers got to die to feed the savage system... The institution prison.
The new fucking plantation.
Niggas got to die in Iraq cause they didn't have the means to go to school...
Niggas die... Niggas die ... Niggas die.
Seems as If even the niggas is chanting fa niggas to be wiped out if you listen to the latest rap song.
Listen to what they say on the fucked up ass rap videos today.
Solange and Jay Z niggas on TMZ...
Rich niggas but niggas they be.
Niggas blood in the dirt on the six o'clock news.
And again they find the stupidest nigga in the world to interview.
I'm telling you...
Niggas got to die...
Niggas got to die...
We got to fucking kill the nigga mentality.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

I am the witchdoctors granddaddy cause one of the children is gone listen to me and spark a revolution

(THE QUEEN GANJAS DEN AND THE KINGS JOURNEY WITHIN) A SENRYU
THE SOUND...
Midnite - Love Song Dub: http://youtu.be/3BvCM_PGhyk

(MARY JANE)
He inhales her deep
She is the mist and the smoke
She is the hard cough

(SIGHT)
Pineal he sees
She in the light, perfection
Eternal vision

(SOUND)
She is the soft roar
Crickets at night symphonic
Birds in the morning

(TASTE)
Juice of berry sweet
Chocolate melting on tongue
The tooth satisfied

(TOUCH)
Trickling through fingers
Solidity as leaned upon
Manifest and strong

(SMELL)
She fragrant and loud
Midgrade she is the scent earth
Her scent on the breeze

(INNERVISION)
He sees himself tree
The grass waving sways gently
She clouds drifts on by

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

Freeflow from a mental dojo where fists fly and black eyes.
Where feet kick in chests and force expelled air to be released.
Where the form is so fluid that it becomes salty tears and the ballet of singing whales.
Hard as ice and as transparent as vapors.
Fire burning bright and rays of realization on the other side of meditation.
Reflections in polished steel and dodged bullets as a monk becomes the catalyst and the cause.
The pain and the relief.
Dodge, flutter and shifts of peripheral fields of vision as brains strain to make sense of what is transpiring in the freeflow dojo.

See I am here to tell you something, you can either listen or ignore it.
It don't matter one way or the other to me cause I'm gone say what I got to say anyway.
The things on this page may offend you or hit you where you didn't want to be hit but I refuse to not pass knowledge along.
I want you to truly know who you are.
I do not seek to control anyone or to make money for this knowledge.
If my children have listened they will know what to do.
I did not come on Facebook to kiss ass or play.
I came to get this message out.
If any man tells you that he is the voice of god he lies.
If he tells you he was chosen while wearing

(NICE? I AIN'T GOT TIME FOR THAT)
THE MUSIC...
Pride Instrumental (Hip Hop Beat with Dark Choirs…: http://youtu.be/GJRMvc8i_rk

What did you expect?
Me to be nice?
I ain't nice cause I didn't come from a nice place.
I was born on 5th street right round the corner from Rat Road and down the hill from the bucket of blood.
I was called a little nigger boy before I was 5 by a drunk white man.
Told I couldn't read by my teacher who didn't even want to give me a book.
Her skin black like mine but that didn't matter.
How could I be nice when all the representations of my people showed me in a negative light?
Shadows obscuring my identity.
Raised in the red clay dust that was the streets on the black side of town.
How could I be a smiling happy nigga tap dancing and shit... Singing thugged out lyrics in a rap song when I came from the projects?
When my people were called the problem?
When the solution was to be thrown in jail?
To be miseducated?
How could I be nice when I was told that the truth would see me dead.
I was not to speak of it in public.
Told to be docile or I would be viewed as hostile by people who bashed in heads.
Hated me cause I was the original progeny.
Worked to eradicate that fact.
How could I be nice when they called me a curse?
Said the bible proved that fact.
How could I be nice when they put me on child support and paid me minimum wage?
Locked me up for not making enough money and taught my children to call me a deadbeat?
Taught the queens that unless I was an ass kisser and a sellout I was less than a man.
Stripped and robbed me of my birthright.
Took my gold, took my diamonds, took my land, took my pride.
Made my queen my enemy.
Made my image into a comedy.
Telling me to forget my past while glorifying his.
You be nice and see if you don't keep arriving at the same point.
I left that highway a long time ago.
I follow the straight path that comes with realization...
It ain't nothin nice.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(PROJECT ISIS BUILD)

(PROJECT ISIS BUILD)
THE SOUND...
Beautiful Voice Hip-Hop Rap Beat: http://youtu.be/GWI4bm1KS60

I evolved in your speakerbox.
In the boom, boom, clap, clap of your ass as you walked by.
Magnificently resplendent in your poise.
I dropped Bass, earthshaking and eviceratingly smooth.
You played melody in lullaby's and church choirs, from speakers Bose binaurally pumped into my Melanin.
My soul...
And I reached for my soul drifting on the bars and notes of your song.
Standing at the apex as you octaves above the rest shattered my glass and I became the sharp shards ripping skin and jabbing at the beasts heart.
Shrapnel expelled at accelerated speeds.
Jazzed up...
Chopped and screwed...
Trap music...
You my dear are speakerbox...
Your sound reigns supreme.
I born am still awed as you walk by.
Boom, boom, clap, clap.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

LOVE QUANDARY

(LOVE QUANDARY) A WOUNDED WARRIORS CRY
THE MUSIC AS WE PROCEED...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4IodKBCeNig&feature=youtube_gdata_player

What if I had told you how I really felt?
Would it have mattered?
Would I be a different man?
Would I now instead of knowing of love, be in love?
I wonder.
I see you and my heart breaking leaks blood tears down my weathered cheeks.
Stains falling on my white shirt... Spreading.
Back when I was a young man I had such lofty notions of love.
Where love would take me.
I never imagined the depths of loves pain.
The agony of watching as my baby was lowered into a grave... My love for him only grew stronger that day.
Tears raining from the sky as I and the angels cried.
Me walking away from the woman who was still a part of every fiber, of every cell.
If I had told you would I have avoided all this?
The drunk nights and drug addiction mixed with meaningless sex...
The days spent in jail cells.
The knife twisting in my gut.
Love for a warrior seems only to be an illusion, a mirage of water to a thirsty man, he crawling on knees with hand outstretched.
Trying to reach love.
What if I had told you?
Would it have mattered?
I love you...
I always have.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(LION, MAN AND UNIVERSAL TRUTH)
THE MUSIC FOR THIS JOURNEY...
NEW HIPHOP 2013- Lion Instrumental *EXCLUSIVE* ON…: http://youtu.be/8Wnw6kEif0s

Lion and man both born in the chambers of Allah.
On pure metabolic levels the lion and man are one, born of the same particles and thrust into the diaspora.
They and everything existing on the planet ripped from the land and the waters.
Forced to survive by any means necessary... Tooth and nail... Deception and subterfuge.
Waking and sleeping with the knowledge that tomorrow it all starts again.
This vicious cycle.
The lion wakes with the knowledge that he is a bad motherfucker... That his roar makes the crowd move... He is spectacular in his presentation.
The man wakes with the knowledge that he is superior.
That his words are his roar and he can make a whisper have true power as he moves the crowd... His presentation mesmerizes.
That the way of lion and men.
The lion and the man know that they must mate heterosexual to pass the strongest seed... That to succeed sometimes he must submit to his mate.
That this is the way of things, instinctively.
They linked on levels unseen as the lion hunts on an African plain... Civilization masking the hunt for the sleeping man who knows not that he and lion are linked... The metabolic and symbolic levels, squares and degrees.
The totality of 360.
Lion, man and a drop of knowledge in a concrete jungle as the son rises with the wisdom of the Sun...
He no longer just man or lion... He having gone universal.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(CHOCOLATE DROP)
THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE...
Beautiful Instrumental Piano Music: http://youtu.be/IKbOWplXzIA
You a block of solid chocolate hits the artist synapses with a resounding thunk.
He walking up gazes upon this chunk of divinity and peruses.
Different veiws... Different angles.
He lays his lyrics back, spreads their legs and fucks them savagely looking for fitting descriptions of your form.
He begins to carve and expose you from this matter... This cube of conformity.
Your lips as he licks his finger and shapes them full.
The rise of your breast... Again he licks.
The jut of your buttocks.
A furious flurry of activity as he brings your form forth, breathing sensuality into life.
The curve of your thighs, the rise of your belly.
Artist pulling at the hairs on his chin... Twisting them into dreds.
Artist in repose as he extracts you from his metabolic form... From the grey wrinkles and creases of his brain.
You so full, phat and prototypical, reminiscent of the dawn of time.
The first love.
The artist steps back.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(TRANSPARENTLY)
THE MUSIC IS A DEDICATION...

When I came stolen and bruised across the Atlantic sea... The true dead one where my ancestors bones have become sand that washes up on an Amerikkkan beach.
You were there for me.
Such a tragic time where the dehumanization began.
They seeking to make me weak in your eyes... To take my strength away.
Made me slave, and the very weather cried, for these were tragic times.
We but scribbles on a paper, animal.
You held me in the night.
I so lost in you that even though they continued to kill me in various ways we survived.
Here against a city backdrop you are the vision that makes a man remember these things... He reflective.
The entirety of this thing on his mind.
As he looks in your eyes and upon your form and sighs cause you are all these things to him when he faces the savage nature of this thing.
He trying to figure out how to convert niggas to kings.
Are you still there for me?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(360 DEGREES IN THE SHADE)
THE MUSIC THERMONUCLEAR...
Lex Luger/Kanye west HAM/Call of Duty Zombie Ops …: http://youtu.be/Mgncda4yEPk

I drop...
Hot like a million fuckin ass degrees... Like a lion on an antelopes ass as he flees.
Claws and motherfucking teeth... Sweeping feet...
I arrive with the roar of atomic fusion thermonuclear... A great roar and a motherfucking mushroom cloud.
A result of the red clay of Georgia as my ancestors enslaved baked under the sun... Melanin absorbing into their skin.
I manifest as lyrical Jeet Kun Do, a pure ballet as I do my warrior dance with pen and keyboard in hand... Ripping syntax from the very fabric... Rendering it metaphorically.
Hard to overstand all these degrees as they subsonic boom... As life erupted from the dark... A spark.
Shrapnel cutting into the fragile skin... shredding preconceived notions apart... The Honest Truth always beats a lie down to the ground... Knocks its dick in the dirt.
Live it real and free or thou shalt die tragically incomplete, life eluding thee.
I drop...
360.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(RISE HUE-MAN)
THE SOUND AS HE STANDS...
Very Sad And Deep Rap Beat: http://youtu.be/5aroxIcqdnU

Hue-man stood from the garbage that had been heaped upon him it falling away in all its putridity, he felt the sun upon his form.
He felt its energy as it poured power into his melanated skin.
He flexed and 500 years of being trapped in the darkness fell away.
Hue-man took a step and found that he stood in a clear stream.
The water cool and refreshing, reinvigorating.
Hue-man performed wudu as it had been taught to Jesus and all the prophets before him.
He cleansed looked to the heavens...
They were silent but he knew that the heavens above him were only a part of the whole.
That there were other dimensions.
That he had traveled them before.
That was before he had been stolen.
Hue-man fell prostrate and poured his soul in the flow.
He felt something give.
The air electric gathered in and around him.
The flow listened and surrounded Hue-man and he attained a glow.
He had become the storm.
Flashes that startled the illuminati and the clergy alike.
He felt the flow as knowledge... It giving him strength.
Making him invincible.
Once more Hue-man took a step.
He stood viable on the world scene.
He stood a king.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(FIRST STAGE OF LIFE) WITCHDOCTORS BREW
THE MUSIC PRESCRIBED AND ADMINISTERED...
Warriors Instrumental (w/hook by Nakoa Heavyrunne…: http://youtu.be/9mC7chtyqWo

Water and salt that lubricates a man eyes as he blinks in awe at the utter magnitude...
The improbability of life on such a magnificent scale.
Some of it so specialized that to lose the one thing it eats dooms it to certain death it a victim of evolution as the world changing leaves it behind.
So of it so diverse that it survives by any means necessary even if it means reverting back to primality.
Losing the modern trappings and becoming the beast in the bushes waiting to pounce on the unsuspecting.
Prey on the weak.
Life in all its phases emerging from a primal soup.
The universe billions of years old looks upon its children, man and woman, plant and animal and heaves a massive sigh for they are still in the first stages of what they perceive as time.
These minor things called life that they live trying to get a piece of heaven while living in hell.
Man peeking his head into the air and sniffing in fear of what another man thinks.
Jealousy such a great factor or Jordan's wouldn't grace so many feet.
The baby crawling before he walks away from not knowing these things.
Hair turning grey with the wisdom.
Water and salt.
Dust and clay.
Carbon.
Life.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(WAIT... I HEAR DRUMBEATS)
THE MUSIC... IT'S APPROPRIATE...
Trouble Funk - Trouble Funk Express [Re-Upload]: http://youtu.be/IFwiRu_hCU8

The drumbeat started with the beating heart installed in a man in the chambers of Allah...
The drumbeat swept the land when man was placed upon it.
Thumping from a cave and around a fire as the eyes of predators glowed from the reaching darkness.
The beat... The beat went on.
The drum became the dance and the shadows took on lives of their own as the people gyrated to the drums rhythms.
The beat was strong.
It became the sound heard over the plains as whole village's took note.
Translated the bass into language and made preparations.
Lead armies to battle... The drum the rallying cry as nations took stands.
The beat toppling cities and crushing regimes.
The beat... The beat.
Babies are born, grow old and die and still the beat goes on.
One monkey don't stop no show and all that.
All life but one beat on the skin of the proverbial drum, stretched tight and providing percussion.
A fraction of a second as he is spanked on ass cries and his last sigh.
The drums beating at his funeral escorting him into the flow.
He exists no more as flesh and blood but as images and words.
His heart, his drum beats no more except as a metaphor.
Words mixed into the beats, rhythms and melodies as humanity mixes song to the symphony.
The beat... The beat, it does go on.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(NOCTURNAL)

(NOCTURNAL)
SOME A DAT FREAK TILL WE SLEEP MUSIC...
Ja'Quan - Headboard Banging Music Produced By Reg…: http://youtu.be/DR6aOSxlhcc
Yo pussy so good I want to fall asleep in it.
Lick that pussy... Fuck that pussy slow... Beat that pussy till you cry tears that I lick off your face as I dick you down.
Grind deep in dat pussy.
Show you why they call me big daddy as I ride that pussy all over the house, the back yard and in the car.
That's my pussy and I the beast like to make it cum.
Make you flutter like leaves in a breeze... Tremble like earthquake.
Wet and dripping as you lower that pussy on this dick.
Ride it cowboy and flip it reverse.
Hanging off the side of the bed.
Spread cross a picnic table.
All that pussy for me?
Like Jim Kelly.
Lick my lips and rub my chin...
Think bout fucking that pussy and falling off to sleep in it.
My pussy.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(SEXY BEAST BEAT)

(SEXY BEAST BEAT) A TOPIC SUBMITTED BY MY HOMEGIRL NELLIE BATTS
THE BEAST BEAT BREAKDOWN... DO NOT MISS THIS...
TWERK QUEEN - BAG HABITS: http://youtu.be/NDox3YiMp_Y
And there you are... Got me all fucked up in my fundamentals as you reveal your levels and layers to me.
Got me wanting to explore every centimeter of you... Fall into the swell of your nipple with my lips, a flick of my tongue and a suck.
It so plump in my mouth.
Rub you in your moist v and breathe heavy in your ear.
Damn you make me harder than trilium... Some sci-fi material cause ain't nothing real can describe how I feel as I kiss you on those other lips.
See yo other tongue get hard.
Juice and pre-cum the lubrication that I rub with my swollen head.
I want to push all the way to the bottom of yo heart. Push the air out yo lungs.
Kiss you deep as I beat.
Sucking... Fucking... Sucking.
And you Skeet as I bend and try to catch the drops.
Ahhhh your rain so warm.
And I stand in it as it patters and spank your pink and pretty...
Whoo weee!
Told you I was a beast as I make you sprinkle and pour and wet the sheets.
Slap cheeks and pull hair.
I want to leave you frazzled.
Laid out and bathed in the glow.
Soft flutters in yo belly...
You rubbing me as I grow soft.
I kissing you facial lips and scratching yo scalp.
Eye the sexual manifest beast see...
Ahhhh there you are.


JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(I PLAYED HER)
THE MUSIC...
Acoustic Guitar RnB Instrumental- Staring At My J…: http://youtu.be/uw8u-kJZijA

I played her like a guitar...
Picked her up and plucked her strings and her notes rang out true and sweet.
I strummed her and she moaned, a sound that rocked me down to my tiniest bones.
Made me place her on my lap and caress the wood of her grain...
So in love with the expression.
The patterns of her formation.
She became my way of easing the pain and celebrating the joy.
Of filling the empty spaces in my life.
Sometimes she was the surface my tears fell upon...
Sometimes she was my way of controlling the anger I felt...
Got to work it out... This song... This song and I pick her up and start to play.
To reach into the nothingness and form a coherent stream of consciousness that makes people wonder at the beauty.
Wonder where it came from.
She my instrument of salvation in a world of ugly... A world of beauty... A world where our music sometimes seems to have soured.
I pick her up.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE PRETTIEST NO PANTIES POEM YOU DONE EVER SEEN)

(THE PRETTIEST NO PANTIES POEM YOU DONE EVER SEEN) NO DEDICATION
THE MUSIC FOR THIS UN... A CERTIFIED WALLBANGA...
Renzaboy - Slow Jam (Instrumental): http://youtu.be/h31z6cg0MQA
Panties in my way and I wanna see... Panties in my way and I wanna play.
I want to see if those lips are as pretty as the ones on your face.
If they are phat and kissable.
I long to see your spurtongue.
Touch mine to it and make you gasp.
A quick draw of air that sounds so sweet to these thirsty ears.
Panties in my way and I can only imagine these things... You wet and juicy.
Panties in my way got me wanting to tear them off like the guerilla I am.
Straight rampage as I perform my delicate ballet.
See me set against the horizon as the sun sets.
The beauty of you pantyless pervades so deep that it stirs me.
Classical music and better days as I look upon you naked and full... The promise of better days found in blissful moments.
Panties in my way blocking my vision...
Panties in my way.
Panties.
In.
My.
Way.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE BOOTY PROPHETS ARRIVAL) INSPIRED BY STACY PIGGEE

(THE BOOTY PROPHETS ARRIVAL) INSPIRED BY STACY PIGGEE
THE SAVAGE BOOTY BEAT DOWN SOUND... YOU BETTA LISTEN, THIS SHIT IS REAL...
ANDREENA MILL ON MY BODY feat PRINCE CHARMIN' WSHH: http://youtu.be/1YutsD4akTE

Your booty beats a savage patter into my scribbled up brain.
Takes me wayyyy out there where there is nothing but ass and opportunity.
Booties ability to take me to the edges of the city of insanity.
Running down the streets grabbing booty and laughing hysterically.
The booty prophet with a staff and a scroll with a picture of booty in his right hand.
The booty bible as dropped by the angel lust in a cave in the dirty south.
Listen well Man, as he recites.
Your booty as defined by the thinking wrinkles in his forehead
The light emanating from his soul illuminating the walls where drawings of booty are drawn.
The beating drums and sweat filled visions of she surrendering that booty.
Dick harder than titanium, reflecting on the walls before doggystyle.
Holding on to dat booty and riding like cowboy.
Yeeeeee Haaaa!!!
Slap it to speed up the ride, rub it to slow it down.
The booty prophet has come to town.
Booty on his mind... Booty on his mind.
Betta lock yo does.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(SHORT ROUND)
THE BEAT... DON'T SLEEP...
Boom Bye Bye (Hard Instrumental) - Buju Banton - …: http://youtu.be/6v3zXli4xgg

I a presence in the recesses of your psyche... An explosion across your synapses...
A sun dawning in your pineals as I rise brilliantly bright.
Subsonically causing neurons to dance excitedly as my words weave and bob, bob and weave become the dropping beat.
Shaking the earth and startling the cosmos.
One has awakened.
I a poet carved of ghetto concrete and covered in mud and trickery, subjected to straight deciet and downright treachery.
I a poet having fired the gun, I a poet having the gun fired at me have seen these things and continue to...
Be.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(I LIKE A WILD RIDE)

(I LIKE A WILD RIDE)
THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE...
Jeremih - Fuck You All The Time (Shlohmo Remix): http://youtu.be/5HtqePscAio
I have no desire to break you.
I like a wild ride.
I want you to buck as I put you in the buck.
Throw that punani back at ne.
I want you to roar and howl... Moan and scream as I try to stay mounted... As I try to touch the back of your womb... Tickle the bottoms of your lungs and leave you breathless.
Turn you around and hit it from the back while slapping ass cheeks and pulling your hair.
Holding on as your muscles ripple under your skin.
I like it when you're wild.
I crashing through the underbrush, Dick swinging and thick as a tree.
Swang on me.
Give me that untamed pussy.
We free... We free.
Running wild across the positions... Seeking to bust.
I and you in the raw pleasure of no restrictions.
Legs spread wide open as I fall deep within... All the way to where we began.
Primal passion and blind lust ...
Let me cum as you throw it back...
Pull out and spray you down...
Look at you in your raw as fuck.
Satisfied at the fact that I left you just as I found you.
As wild as can be.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(SHE OF INCREDIBLE AND INFINITE POWER)
THE MUSIC AS I SPEAK TO HER... MAKE SURE YOU LISTEN
Sound Teckz - Black is Beautiful (Sample Beat Al …: http://youtu.be/8WllIbXBP6o

You enter the scene as freedom from the agony of thinking alone.
A brief respite from the pain and drudgery that is trying to awaken suspended sleepers on this spaceship of rock and water... Fire and ice.
We hurtling towards the future... Revolving around the past.
Man not knowing love till he saw your brown irises.
Held your beautiful black skin.
The sun traversing an African sky.
The moon and stars speaking of  our imminent demise if we do not remember who we are at the end of all these years of captivity.
Our children bearing the scars of leather ankle chains designed and marketed as freedom to fly.
You are the healing of a nation if only you would look deeper than these earthly things.
Take a hard look at what we have become.
The futility of trying to be the reflection of something spawned from your own loin.
A sort of Rosemary's baby if I may.
It's time to put the beast away.
You my queen enter from stage left and steal the scene as freedom if only you knew your strength.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(FUCKING HATERS UP)
DISCLAIMER:  EVEN THOUGH THEY MAY RESEMBLE FOLKS YOU KNOW THE HATERS IN THIS STORY ARE NOT BASED ON ANY PERSON ALIVE OR DEAD.
THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.
THE SOUNDTRACK...
TOP 5 BEST VIOLIN DUBSTEP/ELECTRO!: http://youtu.be/B5xB2X3oclo

He sat awake in his bed thinking over the last few weeks.
The strange events.
The suns light shone across his legs as it filtered through the windows glass.
Well no time for that he thought as he swung his legs out of the bed. He went into the bathroom and shaved, showered and brushed his teeth as he always did.
It was part of his ritual and he performed it as he had since he was a teenager.
He left his house and walked down his street as always, yet to him things were not as always.
In the past few days he had begun to see hate... I mean really see hate as it rode silently along wrapped in peoples auras.
On some of them it was a small thing, like a bracelet, a necklace.
On others it was like a cloak or a jacket.
They having worn it so long that it had become comfortable.
Then there were the ones who were consumed by hate, the ones who hate swirled around and came out of their mouths, they breathing it through their noses.
When he had first started to see hate he had recoiled in fear and hate had sensed that.
Had reached out a tentacle and dangled it in his face, tickled his nose with it.
Only his years of meditation and preparation had saved him.
This journey having been prophesied when he was but a boy.
He walks and is soon on the bus where he sits across from a pretty girl.
At least she woulda been pretty before he had begun to see.
Now she has a huge scab on the side of her face and it pulses.
Hate has begun to eat of she.
He looks out of the window and a car pulls up beside the bus.
He looks into the car and notices two men sitting in the front seat.
He can see the driver and the legs and shoes of the passenger.
The driver looks up at him and he feels a chill as he realizes that the driver knows that he can see.
He is draped in hate and it is a harden shell on his skin and it makes the man think of a Klingon on Star Trek.
He laughs inside at the irony of that thought.
The bus pulls off and the car falls in behind.
He sits back and the pretty cancer girl smiles at him.
Her gums oozing hate onto her teeth.
He has figured out some things in the past few weeks of observing hate.
Hate has different personalities on different people.
Some peoples hate brooded while other peoples hate was all action.
In constant motion, trying to fuck some shit up.
He waited until the bus got on a busy street in the city and as it pulled to the corner he rang the bell and got off. The bus pulled off and the car with the two haters pulled by slowly.
The haters looking him up and down.
They would be back.
He walked a block or two and sat on a park bench where he had a good view and sat down on the back of the bench with his feet in the seat.
He saw the haters before they saw him.
They saw him and came his way the air around them distorted by their disturbance.
Fucking haters!
"Man what's up with you?" The Hater who had been driving said.
The other Hater just stood their with a haters leer.
"Nothing bro" the man said.
His calmness only seemed to enrage the Hater more.
"You thank you cool don't you motherfucker! Posting that shit on Facebook!" The Hater said and his punk ass hating friend sniggered at this.
The Hater then made the worst mistake of his hating life, he swung at the man and the man leaned to the side and in a fluid move was standing on the ground.
The Hater pressed his attack and the man feignted to the side and planted one dead to his hating ass jaw.
The hate seemed to peel away from his face and his hating ass friend watched cause a whole lotta haters ain't got no heart.
He scooped the Hater and slammed him to the ground and he heard and ass the hate as it exploded from his lungs and he punched the Hater in the face.
The hate started to crack and chip away as his fists seemed to elude light.
Golden rays.
He whupped the Haters ass and the haters friend ran away cause he rightly surmised that he would be next.
The man stood up and kicked the Hater in the side of the head a couple of times and the hate fell away from his form.
Shrank into nothing.
The man looked at the former Hater laying knocked out on the ground, turned and walked away while opening his page on Facebook and posting a status.
In the last few weeks something had manifested in him.
He was now whole.
He departed with purpose in his stride.
He had work to do.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE SONG OF THE WIG SPLITTA)
THIS PIECE WAS WRITTEN TO THIS MUSIC...

Do you know how I feel about you...
Do you know I will pop caps for you...
In defense of you.
I will become the sun burning burning down on this urban jungle...
Where we a people exist.
Incinerating away away the lies.
We exorcised of the hate and lies.
The dark and light skin, the nappy and the straight hair.
Where once we walked with the omnipotent...
Lions as our vangaurd... Elephants the herald.
We falling to the earth and shattering into a million million souls.
We dying and becoming the light of billions of suns... Billions of earths on a allegorical field of stars shining from the triple stages.
We once in spaceships as Enoch transported to heaven.
We once building maps to lead us back...
Cosmic keys called pyramids and Stonehenge... Maps on cave walls in Mali... Patterns drawn so large that they can only be seen from the air.
These things will I interpret for you as I navigate through the treachery...
Dancing a Zulu wardance of spiritual vibrancy... Becoming the spear and the shield... Escorted by an angel fair...
You daughter of man.
Carry me away... Take me away.
So soft... So hard.
We meshed into one... Complete.
Glacier feel about you has no dimension, so magnificent is its scope.
I will split scalps for you...
In defense if you.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

THE BOOK OF EPOCH (CHAPTER 14)
8Behold, in the vision clouds invited me and a mist summoned me, and the course of the stars and the lightnings sped and hastened me, and the winds in 9 the vision caused me to fly and lifted me upward, and bore me into heaven. And I went in till I drew nigh to a wall which is built of crystals and surrounded by tongues of fire: and it began to affright 10 me. And I went into the tongues of fire and drew nigh to a large house which was built of crystals: and the walls of the house were like a tesselated floor (made) of crystals, and its groundwork was 11 of crystal. Its ceiling was like the path of the stars and the lightnings, and between them were 12 fiery cherubim, and their heaven was (clear as) water. A flaming fire surrounded the walls, and its 13 portals blazed with fire. And I entered into that house, and it was hot as fire and cold as ice: there 14 were no delights of life therein: fear covered me, and trembling got hold upon me. And as I quaked 15 and trembled, I fell upon my face. And I beheld a vision, And lo! there was a second house, greater 16 than the former, and the entire portal stood open before me, and it was built of flames of fire. And in every respect it so excelled in splendour and magnificence and extent that I cannot describe to 17 you its splendour and its extent. And its floor was of fire, and above it were lightnings and the path 18 of the stars, and its ceiling also was flaming fire. And I looked and saw therein a lofty throne: its appearance was as crystal, and the wheels thereof as the shining sun, and there was the vision of 19 cherubim. And from underneath the throne came streams of flaming fire so that I could not look 20 thereon. And the Great Glory sat thereon, and His raiment shone more brightly than the sun and 21 was whiter than any snow. None of the angels could enter and could behold His face by reason 22 of the magnificence and glory and no flesh could behold Him. The flaming fire was round about Him, and a great fire stood before Him, and none around could draw nigh Him: ten thousand times 23 ten thousand (stood) before Him, yet He needed no counselor. And the most holy ones who were 24 nigh to Him did not leave by night nor depart from Him. And until then I had been prostrate on my face, trembling: and the Lord called me with His own mouth, and said to me: ' Come hither, 25 Enoch, and hear my word.' And one of the holy ones came to me and waked me, and He made me rise up and approach the door: and I bowed my face downwards.

(NOT YOUR DAY TO DIE) AN URBAN TALE
THE SOUND... ITS HYPNOTIC...
http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL24cV6IIynrZxOiC510txe6_ZGrXZepd8&feature=mh_lolz

As the sun rises he stands from his sleep as if he rose from the dust beneath his feet...
He is totally unremarkable yet there is something about him that speaks mystery... Mystic.
His skin while brown bears undertones of all man who is not Melanin recessive.
He is no rich man and he lives among the denizens who are called homeless by those who make the laws... By those who pass him by.
He surveys these blocks that surround him and nods his head as if satisfied... these things.
He reaches into the doorway from which he just rose and draws out a tattered trenchcoat and with a graceful motion he places it on his arms.
It falls to his body and catches the breeze.
He starts to walk and disturbed a flock of pigeons and as they take off it seems the man becomes a part of them.
Black, grey, brown, orange and the pigeons are gone as he emerges still walking.
He is afforded a wide berth by the people he passes. They so indoctrinated that homeless is all they see.
He has purpose to his stride though and it takes him from neighborhood to neighborhood as he walks. The air feels good in his lungs and he drinks of the life he passes.
He sees a store and walks in and is greeted by a sight that one does not want to walk in on.
There is an old black man behind the counter and in front of it and to the right there is a boy of about sixteen standing against a corner.
What is out of place is that there is a boy of about 19 years with a pistol in his hand.
A 9.
He looks around and sees the man who just walked in and shouts at him to get his fucking ass over here.
The homeless man does as he says and the old man behind the counter stands up with a gun in his hand and all hell breaks loose he shoots but his sin is bad and the bullet slams into the frame of the door. At the top.
The young man with the gun shoots and hits the old man square between the eyes and his brains Splatter the cigarettes and cigars behind him.
The young boy who was in the corner makes a break for it and is shot in the side.
The homeless man moves remarkably fast for someone who looks as he and catches the man with the gun by his arm and throws him to the ground with such force that the impact sounds like gunshots... A resounding think.
He rips the gun from the man's hand and shoots him through the eye and stands.
Suddenly he does not look broken, or homeless. He walks to the boy who was shot in the side and go's into a crouch.
"You were not supposed to die."
He flips the young man and speaks to him.
"Wake up son. It is not your time."
The boy opens his eyes and sits up.
He feels his side and there is no bullet wound there.
He opens his mouth to speak but the man speaks first.
"Today was not the day you die. You have things to do."
The man rises and his footsteps recede as he leaves the store through the back door.
The police burst through the front door and secure the scene.
The boy mentions the man but when the surveillance tapes are checked all that are seen on them are three people.
The old man, the shooter and him as he falls.
Him as he stands.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(5 MINUTES) I WROTE THIS IN FIVE MINUTES.
THE MUSIC...
Ification Beats - Angry Violin Choir Rap Beat Hip…: http://youtu.be/hD78SH8ifQw

You thought you had fucked me up when you left me as a victim of the worst form of slavery ever perpetuated on earth.
When you handcuffed me and threw away the motherfucking keys.
That shit ain't work cause a prototypical son has risen from the shit and raw sewage of the literal ghetto where you threw me when you removed me from the belly of the beast.
It sailing on seas
Thought I had forgotten these things but I got 3d see.
Optically that is.
Pineal I see cosmically.
These five minutes belong to me.
They my bitch.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(EVAPORATED AND CONDENSED) A SENRYU
THE MUSIC... IF YOU DON'T OVERSTAND YOU MUST UNDERSTAND
Nyabinghi Riddim - Busy Signal & Cobra - Cry Out: http://youtu.be/LJjQLfdH9hs

(A DRINK)
Man standing in stream
He sips of her existence
She is refreshing

(OF YOUTH)
Man seeks the fount youth
The days grow shorter each year
His hair becomes winter

(FLEETING)
He walks as young cub
He fights as fierce mighty lion
He is cast aside

(HE ROARS)
His roar leaves the clouds
Thunder pulsing subsonic
His voice a warning

(HE WHISPERS)
The queen stands transfixed
A swirl of leaves from his passing
His whisper the breeze

(SHE HEARS)
She is the earth pure
Born of his love and lust
They are one yet two

(THE SUMMATION)
Their roots dig deep
They standing strong become many
Mathematically

(THEY MOURN)
They cry together
So many gone into the ground
This was paradise

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(QUADRATIC EXPLOSION) FEATURING STACY PIGGEE
THE MUSIC FOR THIS COLLAB...
Magestick Records - Inspiring Emotional Piano Rap…: http://youtu.be/x_Uc6c_Jt6k

J
I a man having fell onto this earth see you and sigh.
You the promise as seen squared and pi, the perfect sum... We the equation.

S
We dont need any words, for our math is universal.  It speaks for itself as you bear witness to our love

J
I singing to the stars of we,born of clay.
Your form a constellation.

S
Birthed from the depths of time and space with all the beauty of god and life in my bosom.
I a moon held audience to your gravity

J
I a son of the Sun spellbound and transfixed in your atmosphere breathe of your oxygen.
It feeding the fires of my blazing soul where you fuel my combustion.
S
Like the quickening of the heart from adrenaline in your presence, the thought is more than a notion
Mind ablaze with desire, query, thirsty for access to your world

J
Our warmth sparking life in a cold hard society.
A new day dawning as our union brings the promise of continuing life.

S
Cultivated with words, soul, spirit of our ancestors....
A type of warmth that will bring forth life in thought, in love, in life

J
We the epic as told on Sunday morning.
As spoken of in ancient tomes we... You... Me.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY AND STACY PIGGEE

(COME HITHER) THREE HUNDRED AND SIXTY DEGREES IN THE SHADE
THE SOUND...
http://youtu.be/aSAgTQe1m-k

Remember your first memory... This not a question nor a demand, it is but a statement.
Think back to the first thing that you really saw.
What was it?
Now hold that thought and examine it from all sides.
Is it real?
Analyze it.
Take it apart.
What do you see?
This moment is you.
This first memory.
It is when you began to realize that there were others.
That they moved like you, talked to each other.
That you were one of them.
Things began to take shape.
Someone said flower and that image filled your brain.
You knew the scent.
Someone said rain and you looked up at the clouds, rain made them grey.
You wondered where you came from.
They told you of God in Hebrew, in English, in Arabic, in an Indian or Chinese dialect.
Same God, many manifestations.
They told you to believe any other was certain death.
They began to control you and manipulate you.
To lead you from the God truth contained in you.
The fact that you are not son but sun.
A fragment of a ruptured star that fell burning to this rock called earth.
That when Allah breathed into your ancestors lungs he imbued him with his strength, his power.
You having the potential to live and be free.
If you choose.
Remember your first memory?
Hold it...
Now let it go into the God flow...
You will see it again.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(Minimalistic) A POEM
THE MUSIC..
Simple Violin Tune Using FL Studio: http://youtu.be/ZamVZuNif-o

We met.
We loved.
We shall die.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN)
THE MUSIC APPROPRIATELY...
Stairway to Heaven - Rock / Rap / Hip-Hop Instrum…: http://youtu.be/DGhOCG0MXeU

The man having walked such a long way to reach this point looks back and sees his footprints on the dust.
On some of the steps his footprints are but vague impressions as if he was light.
On others they are deep as if he were heavy.
He looks back and sees the birds beneath him.
He has traveled so far and yet he knows in his heart that it is only a short distance, that these steps they have existed since time immortal.
For so many besides him.
He looks skyward at the place where the steps seem to melt into the clouds of time.
He is headed this way.
Looking back he is dizzy for he is at an amazing height.
So many things.
He sees a child waving at him and rubs his eyes for he had thought these memories were gone.
That he had gotten over them...
That child was once him.
It was his sons and daughters.
It was his grandchildren, they existing here as well.
The winds wash over him and he recognizes them as change as they stir the dust and it shifts, he is obscured yet he remains tangible.
He touches his face and feels the wrinkles.
He has grown tired yet he has no choice.
He takes another step.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(PLAIN FACT)
THE MUSIC FOR DIS UN...
"Cold Streets" - Hard Deep Rap Hip Hop Beat Instr…: http://youtu.be/a2xp103EagQ

Round my way all that hi yaah shit will get you fucked up cause even the little children done seen death.
Shit is that fucked up.
Round my way a quarter is a sack a weed and the police ain't nobody's friend.
Riding by air conditioned and looking at a computer screen hoping your face is a match.
All niggas got warrants.
Lol bitty girls walk by on some grown woman shit.
Fragile bodies offered to the god Andrew Jackson as he looks coldly up from a tricks hand.
They wanna be Nikki Menage or at least appear in a video.
Mamma at the club right beside them as they learn the facts of life.
All the men wanna be Scarface or like these fake ass rappers, Gay ass punk motherfuckers with they pants hanging off their asses.
Daddy doing 20 in the state pen.
Don't get it twisted cause they will make you dance.
Hot lead has a tendency to do that.
All that hi yaah shit a leave you cold and still on a slab as a medical examiner cuts you up.
Cause of death, projectile.
Round here.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(PLAIN FACT)
THE MUSIC FOR DIS UN...
"Cold Streets" - Hard Deep Rap Hip Hop Beat Instr…: http://youtu.be/a2xp103EagQ

Round my way all that hi yaah shit will get you fucked up cause even the little children done seen death.
Shit is that fucked up.
Round my way a quarter is a sack a weed and the police ain't nobody's friend.
Riding by air conditioned and looking at a computer screen hoping your face is a match.
All niggas got warrants.
Lol bitty girls walk by on some grown woman shit.
Fragile bodies offered to the god Andrew Jackson as he looks coldly up from a tricks hand.
They wanna be Nikki Menage or at least appear in a video.
Mamma at the club right beside them as they learn the facts of life.
All the men wanna be Scarface or like these fake ass rappers, Gay ass punk motherfuckers with they pants hanging off their asses.
Daddy doing 20 in the state pen.
Don't get it twisted cause they will make you dance.
Hot lead has a tendency to do that.
All that hi yaah shit a leave you cold and still on a slab as a medical examiner cuts you up.
Cause of death, projectile.
Round here.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

Bim and ya buck and he haw
I am the freestyle pa from the land la la
On that loud and off in deese lyrics and degrees where knowledge is seized...
Where miseducation is an awful disease that will leave you coughing on yo knees.
A flip and a take yo ass way out there and we in a spaceship somewhere sliddin past the stars a most glorious trip.
Spin that shit like a breakdancer on his motherfucking head...
Leave you with a sense of elation and cowering in awful dread.
These are my words, adjectives and synchopated verbs as they sway and swerve... Mystic curve.
Stars and galaxies and other worlds.
Buds busting open in the grow room as we pass the planet Barsoom on our way to Serius B where we enter chamberous rooms.

(MORNING IN THE HIGHER HEIGHTS)
THE MUSIC...
"Take It Out From Within" - Slow Symphonic/Choir …: http://youtu.be/R-jZ1uxnBdw

Off in the higher heights where Recognition is met and shares a conversation.
His Afro shining like crown...
A shock of white in the rising sun.
He points thing out in his matter of fact manner.
Snorts a cynical chuckle at man's seeming ability to not see him at all.
Cries when he reminisces over the fallen ones who died to protect wrongs perpetrated in the name of right.
Their blood having become the fertiliser used to grow a lopsided economy.
Warped crops standing in fields where the battle having played out has become life.
Recognition sits for a while and sees Realisation as he passes by.
"What's up my brother?" as he passes the blunt.
Realisation sits down with a sigh, pulls the smoke into his lungs a coughs a reply.
"Nothing much has changed in the heights my friend. So few choose to come this way."
They look away into the distance as clarity fills the airs of their existence.
I but a man listen to their wisdom as they talk of Love and how tattered looking she has become.
Her dress dirty and torn.
As they speak on Vision who lost an eye in the war of Advancement.
The world having gone awry.
As they reminisce burying Innocence all those long years ago.
Such a grand funeral for a noble friend.
I stand and bid them goodbye for I must attend to things in the alternate dimension which they have been conversing upon.
They stand and look me in my eyes and give me fist bumps.
"Hotep my brother."
As I take my leave.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE MONEY SHOT)
THE MUSIC... YOU BETA LISTEN CAUSE THIS PIECE WAS WRITTEN TO THIS SOUND.

Let me explain something to you...
Why it feels so good when I sex you...
When I make love to you.
It's cause everytime I touch you it turns into a porno.
I ain't talking out no regular porno, I'm talkin bout a wet juicy porno with full shots of me pushing your legs back.
Shots of me sucking on your lips, sucking sounds as I slurp and lick.
As I play with your rigid clit.
Let the people see when I push your legs back and slowly slide in...
Pull it back all wet and glistening.
Slide back in.
Deep enough to make you cry out.
Throw it back.
I all up in your stomach.
A shot of me spanking it as it sprays wet and juicy.
Wets the lens.
You screaming as I put my lips on it and lap it up.
Spank that ass cheek and turn you around, spread em so all our fans can see it hanging down as I place my head at the entrance and rub it on your lips.
Push it in and beat it.
Pull it all the way out.
Grab your hair and pull you back down on the thick length.
Ride you long and hard to another spraying orgasm that leaves us both wet as the camera pans in.
See I know some hating son of a bitch is gonna report this cause its so descriptive, this porno we are making.
Somebody looking with their hand in their panties.
Somebody stroking wood as I fuck you and you moan.
Beg me to "Fuck me Daddy... Oh Daddy beat this pussy up."
I posing you for the best grow.
Me, you and our fans as our slapping flesh beats a sex rhythm punctuated by our voices.
Me telling you to taste our juices a second before I plunge back in and beatdown into your womb.
Pull it out and skeet the money shot onto your back, as it arches in the air and gets in your hair.
As I grab you and kiss you hard.
The scene fading to black.
That's why its so good...
Cause its a porno featuring me and you.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(I IN YOU AND YOU IN I)
THE MUSIC FA DIS UN...
Helios - The Morning Room: http://youtu.be/tsFYaWE9l54

In the comforting fold of your arms have we weathered so many storms.
As in mine you have been protected from the rages of life.
In these days it seems we have forgotten these things...
How to be one.
Man in his place and woman in hers...
No unrealistic idealism and flawed theories of loves psychology.
Man as ruler of his domain and teaching his seed the same...
Woman as queen and protector of the earth.
We preparing for a future that looms enormous on the horizon.
Instead we seem to be regressing into the niggas they wanted us to be.
Basketball wives and hoes of Atlanta wanna be's.
Stupid ass rappers talking bout stupid ass things.
Every black man in power selling us out to the highest bidder.
Time for the beautiful daughters to burst from the fertile soul and spread lovely petals.
Time for the warriors to stand as one in the dawning sun... Millions strong.
Time to seek the comfort of each others arms.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY)
THE MUSIC FA DIS UN...

Layers and levels, thats what you are.
Like processed chocolate.
Where once you were a bean on the tree, so hard and strong tasting you have been refined.
Whether that is good or bad has yet to be seen.
You crushed and powdered and spread across the whole of our diaspora.
Sugar added in some cases has lead to our seeming diabetes, the mental disease that has brought us to our knees in the new world.
You so bitter... You so sweet.
We not knowing how to take you sometimes as we remove the wrappings.
Bite into your outside and savor your bouquet... Taste of the journey traveled for us to get to this point.
You melted down and moulded into this new new being... This new form where you are sold on the corner store shelf as a neck rolling, rachet ghetto hootchie.
Trying to look like the milky version with your relaxed hair and blue contacts.
Buy me... Buy me.
Layers and layers of chocolate pondered and perused in a chocolate mind.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(I AWOKE) TOPIC SUBMITTED BY SMOKESTACK...
THIS WAS A TWENTY MINUTE CHALLENGE WRITE, I DID IT IN 14.
THE MUSIC... I WOULD ADVISE YOU TO LISTEN.
DON P - Heaven instrumental (Cinematic piano rap …: http://youtu.be/zryEBATzLcc

And I awoke to find she beside me...
I startled rose to my feet.
What?
I looked upon her naked form and even though I had no concept of the word goddess it sprang into my head.
She so full and dark in contrast to the day.
I held my hand to the sky.
The same color and skin as me.
I watched her until she opened her eyes.
She sat up and stretched and my heart sang.
She looked upon my form and spoke.
I overstood her words.
They sang out and vibrated the fibers of my being and my skin... My essence danced.
I took her hand and showed her the beauty and the savagery of the land and we grew into tribes and villages cities and towns.
Whole nations.
Me and she.
We faced sin and treachery as two... As one.
She and I.
The mornings found me looking at her waiting... Waiting... and everytime  her eyes opened my breath quick filled the very recesses of my chest...
Caused my heart to thump strong.
I not afraid to stand as man to protect this queen of mine.
This goddess.
I woke up and there she was...
Right beside me.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ Murphy

(LOVE, LUST AND BUTT NAKED ALIEN TRUTH)
THE MUSIC...
Soulful Hip Hop Beat   (Prod. By DG Beats): http://youtu.be/FTGJaGmX4W8

I guess I could be like all the other dudes and try to impress you with lovely words designed to sway you... Make you swoon.
Talk of how I see beauty in your reflection... In your image, but by now you should know these things.
They should be implanted in your psyche.
That I African see you as queen of this lump of tightly packed dirt spinning and revolving in outer space.
That I would like to lay you back and take you to cosmically.
Splayed and as wet as the waters of all the oceans of all the worlds.
Swim in your liquidity as I floating become the seraphim...
My wings spread and catching your glimmer.
Turning it into the shades of refracted prism light and shining away to the limits of human optical perception.
Colors to complex to comprehend.
I bending to lap at your bubbling spring from where the crystal clearness of you pure and sweet flows.
Let it provide me with insight into our origins and our destination as we touch each others deepest darkest hours...
Of our most jubilant moments as we orgasmically explode in our splendor.
I guess I could be like all the other guys but then where would the fun be in that?
What would we gain?
I as different as an alien lost on a planet light years from my true home seek to take you beyond what they offer.
These words I speak to you across the soundless void.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(TRANSFIXED)
THE MUSIC...
Love Tri Angle Riddim/Version/Instrumental ||Uim …: http://youtu.be/ManzITlnEN8

I transfixed stand enamored as you flow past.
Soft skin tones and sweetly fragrant to my perspectivity.
You sinking pheromonally into the all of me.
I inhale and smell a dream as it tickles my want to drink of thee.
My need to think of thee as these seconds turn to minutes and eventually become the years that I have lived alone.
We placed in a garden of plenty as the birds sang and the elephants trumpeted a herald.
Warning of things yet to come.
I have seen you as a shimmering mirage in the desert of my loneliness.
Shifting sands that change second by second, moment by moment
I seeking the oasis where we full on grapes and dates, the meat of existing, sip of the wine of life and grow tipsy on its ferment.
Sometimes bitter and sometimes sweet as we feel it coursing through our veins.
Flows from the chalice called the holy grail.
I wrapped in your arms content as the sun falls from the sky and the moon rises.
You and me looking for each other as you stroll by  smelling like fresh rain after a long drought which leaves crop withering and bellies distended.
Dries the lakes and rivers and changes geographical perimeters of human existence.
I standing stunned as you stroll past a lovely vision cast in tones of Melanin born of the dust of the cosmos.
I sniffing at the possibilities of we stand transfixed.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

Y-chromosomal Adam lived in Africa approximately 338,000 years ago, according to a recent study.
He is the most recent common ancestor from whom all male human Y chromosomes are descended.