ITS GONNA BE A REVOLUTION

[ITS GONNA BE A REVOLUTION] BLACK OPS PART TWO
THE SOUNDTRACK...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_8xJupkpU6s&feature=share&list=PL24cV6IIynrbGXkQgNgG2F3TXnvA3mgS4


At this point the man stops and pulls a bag from the table sitting next to him and takes some buds of weed out. He asks me if I smoke and I nod yes.
He splits a blunt and fills it with the weed and lights it and as the aroma of the weed reaches me I realize that it is loud. You know... some of that good shit.
He passes it to me and for the next few minutes we talk as we smoke, passing the blunt back and forth.
He ask's me what made me look for him and I tell him that I heard of him from the streets. His name is legend. Yet every time I asked for details no one could or would give them to me. Eventually I decided that it would be smarter to come to the source than to listen to other people anyway.
We finish the blunt and he begins to talk again. I sit back and turn on the recorder back on.
After my first kill It was a while before I killed again.
I joined the army and learned everything I could about war, about how to be a real soldier.
I have always been able to absorb just a little more from things that seem to elude other people and I really was a decent soldier.
I received numerous commendations and awards but it seemed military life was not meant for me.
I was released and came home to a situation worse than any you could imagine.
Crack.
It was everywhere and everywhere I looked it had ripped holes in my community.
I watched as the young men in my community became drug dealers and in a lot of instances got hooked.
I watched as the young sisters and daughters of my friends got hooked and started tricking.
In time I met a drug dealer who became my friend and he knew that I had been in the army and he approached me about protection.
I accepted his offer and soon I was meeting the real players in the drug game.
Doctors, lawyers and politicians. Car dealers and contractors who built mansions that housed the rich.
I dropped payments off and picked up drugs from the drop off points. By this time I was seeing the true nature of things and it was bothering me.
I was conflicted.
I would go home and smoke weed and listen to music and try to ignore the voice inside me that was telling me that I could do something about this situation.
One morning I opened the paper and the picture on the front of it made me stop and stare.
I had not seen her in years and in a way I had forgotten about her consciously but not in my subconscious. I sat down and started to read the story and the rage in me made me jump up and walk back and forth.
She was dead... somebody had to pay.
I met her in high school and she was dark skinned and so fucking beautiful it almost hurt to look at her, I had some classes with her and we became friends. I never had sex with her but just being her friend helped me with other girls.
I sat down and continued to read the story over and over again.
Her head had been cut off and she was found in the back of a building in a drug area where I kind of hung out. I knew that this was a message because I had never really seen her there.
My mind just works like that you know?
I sat there and digested the information and perused on it.
Flipped it back and forth in my mind.
All day I thought it over as I went about and I heard things from the people that I came into contact with.
It was a hit.
 She had been a mule and she had pissed some people off. They suspected that she was a snitch and had ordered her murder.
There were rumors that the men who had killed her were from Miami, there were a lot of dealers from Miami here at one time and they pretty much had their hands deep into the drug trade.
That night I went to the club and spread a little money around with the girls in the club. You know the type, the girls who fucked the drug dealers and big ballers.
Party girls.
I met one and she really dug me so I took her home and fucked her and during the course of the night I continued to feed her cocaine habit and she filled my ears.
I took mental notes and the next morning I went home and started to make phone calls, by the end of the day I knew where to begin.

THAT NIGHT....
I stood on the street corner and pulled on the blunt as I watched the dudes on the other corner as they bullshitted around and listened as their pagers went off.
As the junkies walked up and bought their drugs and hustled off.
I was wearing dark clothes but that seemed to be the norm around here.
well time to get this show on the road I thought and stepped away from the curb and started to pull the hood down on my face.
I was in their midst the before they knew it and the two Walther 9 mm's begin to speak for me.
I shoot everyone who is out there and I intentionally shoot one of them in his right shoulder. he is right handed. I saw that from across the street. The girl that is out there starts to scream and it seems to become a part of the music of the night.
When I am finished 5 dudes lay dead and the girl is still screaming. I walk over to the dude i shot in the shoulder and tie his hands and I stand and say. "Bitch shut up." I say it calmly and she shuts the fuck up.
I walk over to her and I tell her "You did not see a fucking thing."
She nods and I take the roll of hundreds from my pocket and hand it to her. She bends and picks up her purse and tales off her heels and runs off into the night.
I grab dude by his arm and hustle him away as lights start to come on in the houses on the street.
I take him along the path that I laid out earlier in the day and we disappear into the trees and I hustle him along. He is in shock so he complies completely. We come out of the trees and I open the trunk of the car and his eyes grow wide.
I slap him with the Walther that I holding  in my hand and he falls back into the trunk of the car.
I drive out of the city and soon I am at the country road where I am going. I turn in and park behind the house and walk in and light the lamps in the basement and put a lamp on my head and go out to the car and open the trunk.
He is awake and his eyes are wide.
I reach in and help him out and take him into the house and push him down the stairs into the basement.
I strap him to the steel chair and walk out.
I will be back tomorrow.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[SHE GOES AWAY]

THE PHOTO IS OF Simphiwe Dana A XHOSA JAZZ SINGER. THE MUSIC IS AS WELL
[SHE GOES AWAY]
THE MUSIC FOR THIS PIECE... MAKE SURE THAT YOU LISTEN TO THIS...
http://youtu.be/119OqGvXQg8

She has been there as long as I can remember.
We were children together back when life was fresh and new...
Flowers and butterflies... fresh tomatoes splashing across young tongues picked from my mothers garden.
When my grandmother died she was there in the dead of night talking me through the pain.
When I reached puberty she gave herself to me... wet dreams and wet sheets.
Waking to memories of her touch... the softness of her skin... the flash of her panties.
When I sat in a jail cell facing three life sentences she came to me as I slept and whispered to me that I would be free... truth overshadows injustice.
She told me to keep writing... that one day thousands would read my words.
Upon my release I did not see her until my son died as she walked up through the rain of my tears that fell behind closed eyelids and into my mind...
She took my hand and told me not to die as she said look around...
Its not your time, though they dont know it these people need you so much.
She came to me and stood at the top of the stairs that dug into a hill ... I passed my son who was three when he died now 19 and when I reached her she sang a song that I awoke and wrote...
R & B for the new millenium...
Do you remember?
When I tried to put down the pen she made me pick it back up... Every time I have tried to give up she shows up and says the things that I need to hear.
She is not the most beautiful woman in the world but to me she is the most lovely woman that I have ever met.
Soft at times and hard when she needs to be... pulling me from the pits of my dispair...
Soothing the beast when he threatens to roam unleashed.
She the queen who fills my dreams.

[THOUGHTS OF THE SUN AND THE MOON] FEATURING MORGANNE RAY

[THOUGHTS OF THE SUN AND THE MOON] FEATURING MORGANNE RAY
THE MUSIC... I TOLD YOU IT MAKES YOU SMARTER...
http://youtu.be/UbKK4-TDoGY


J
She is moon and I am sun breaking across the horizon...
I sigh at her entry into my world, filling the canvas of my skies.

M
The skies being the recesses of my mind, colored with the images of things not seen, but felt.
Deprived of time like the few sacred moments that the sun and moon intertwine.

J
Even while separated by space and time night and day our light is connected... as we stand right across the distance looking into each others eyes.
She controlling the waters and I the solar winds... such a splendid union as our presence is felt in the core of humanity.

M
The collision of our separate emotions : wind and water made for a beautiful disaster.
The world feels a force stronger than any one person can ever dream of creating.
Our love is like energy, it can never be destroyed or created. It can only change direction. I became you, and you became I ....meant to share the same reflection.

J
We are the dreams and beautiful tales as told in epic stories a song echoing off into the orbits of other worlds... Reaching the remnants of the big bang.
Swirling through the milky of the way as planets are born and life connected flows along in the system of Serius B. 
You and I as seen though the telescopes of satellites in space, The words of Khalil Gibran so fluid and smooth. 
Prophets and Queens of Sheba, Fabulous tales as told by bards roaming country back roads.

M
Unfortunately we wake up from dreams, and tales are never true.
The song our hearts once sang eventually faded to black, but only after holding on for too long......... 
Like the last note in a song you never want to end.
Feelings shattered like scatter radiation. Impossible to be made whole again.
Broken hearted thoughts traveling at the speed of light
186,000 miles per second and in that minute frame of space, I realized that our endless love was now out of time.

[HIRSTUTE DEPRAVITY] CHURCHHHHH.

[HIRSTUTE DEPRAVITY] CHURCHHHHH.

A LITTLE MUSIC FOR THIS MADMANS DEMENTED DREAM... 

http://youtu.be/7yVLSWZ8BbA

I find myself at an impasse...

I must say this or I will feel as if I am just not being truthful at all.

If God didn't want it hairy he woulda left it bald.

Not to say that I dont like it bald but hairy makes me hard like young male gorilla.

Parting the bushes to get to that beautiful stream where I drink until satiation.

Makes me want to swing off trees into that pussy.

If I was one who believed in Santa Claus I would make a list that said hairy pussy.

Hairy pussy.

Hairy pussy.

I bet Mrs Claus has a hairy pussy.

All grey and shit covered in fuzz.

I bet Santa fucks her hard.

I like hair so much that when you lay down to go too sleep I will be rubbing you... rubbing again when you wake up.

All strung out in your fur.

When I nut I will blast all on those lips and in that hair... 

Look at it and get right back hard again.

Hairy pussy is the natural thing...

Pretty pussy all gift wrapped...

Just for me?

Tearing at the wrapper like I was three.

Hairy pussy.

Hairy pussy.

Whewww!!! 

Can I get a witness?

AND I DIGRESS INTO THIS HAIRY PUSSY...

WHEW!!!

"ROLE PLAY EXTREME SCENE PART ONE" STARRING NIKKINICOLE GIOVANNI

 "ROLE PLAY EXTREME SCENE PART ONE"
THE MUSIC... MAKE SURE YOU LISTEN...
http://youtu.be/4B25A3eLpzQ

Nikki
Yes daddy let's role play this ish
Ill be the naughty police officer who just arrested you for violating my titts
Hands that tries to get a good feel
Let me hand cuff you to the bed and ill whisper you the deal
Ill be that slutty little whore
One that you have wished for and adore
Ill jump at your every command
I can also be that sexy little school teacher while I talk pussy language only which you will understand
Taking my ruler and measuring that big dick
Writing out the equation of how I wanna be licked and sticked
Yes daddy come get freaky with this wet pussy
Having me spread wide open just like the beach on the island of waikiki
While you eat my juicy clit
I 69 it swallowing your dick as an admiral feast
On the menu it'll be pussy fillet and chocolate dick sticks
And for our beverage pussy lade and cum wine because the horniness and freakness that rises
Filled with kinkiness
We should both wanna get laid
Daddy let me stay on your face
Tongue fuck my pretty pink dynasty deep
Spell out your name on my pussy lips and at the walls and entrance of my pussy hole
Cum drips and I definitely want a sip
Don't this position feels so good as I scream and moan your name
The way we role play now u are a minister and I am a church girl and we are breaking all the rules of the bible and sinning as you sin in my pussy writing the commandments deep inside me
Ill pretend your tongue is your dick and I hump it and bounce on it faster wanting to skeet all over your face
And give you the same sexy lace
Lace your face with the honey suckle cum..
Suffocating and drowning you with my ecstasy
Grab me harder and watch my hips twerk to the beat of your dick sliding and gliding in my mouth nastily
When you cum its a rush
Creamy filled desires..
One big gush
Swallowing your tasty treat as you smack my butt while I look back at you
I could tell we wasn't through
Cum let's fuck the night away
My freakazoid toy my pussy will say

Jerald
See now woman you done opened the door to my fantasies... you strapped to the bed as I beat that pussy a burglar who has happened upon a pleasant surprise. You asleep and naked all laid out on the covers of the bed.
I like it small like you as bend you back and watch my thickness spread the brown of your lips and fall into the pink.
At the beach I will be the lifeguard who saves you from drowning as I slide my dick into your pussy and you ride me in the waves as people walk by unaware.
you my sexual slave on your knees I the master with my dick in your mouth as I grip the side of your head and fill your throat. My purpose to make that pussy belong to me as you scream and skeet. 
Wet dick, nuts and sheets.
I so fucked up in the freak in you, you so fucked up in the freak in me.
Big dick and tight pussy. 
Just like i like it.
A pure gorilla in these fantasies where you bow submissive to me. I submissive to thee.
My pussy my dick will say.

This has been a Jerald Murphy and Lyrical Passion Production Copyrighted 12/06/12"

[ITS GONNA BE A REVOLUTION] BLACK OPS. PART ONE

[ITS GONNA BE A REVOLUTION] PART ONE

THE MUSIC FOR THIS BIOGRAPHY OF A FREEDOM FIGHTER... THAT MEANS SONDTRACCCKKKKKKK!!!

http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL24cV6IIynrYeNM8W64Xhwm-P-FF9LwGM

As I sit and listen to the  man sitting across from me I quickly start to realize that he is telling the truth. 

That everything he says is something I better believe. Even though he is in his sixties and is a little stocky his movements are fluid and smooth.

He moves with purpose. If you ran into him on the street you might not even look two times.  Pass him by and forget him.

His eyes though are another thing, they are a blend of primality and intelligence at the same time. A lion of a man. To look in them is to lulled into another time. Another state.

He sits across from me and sips at his coffee and starts to tell me his story and I turn on the recording device that I brought along.

" I grew up hard, my mother was hard cause she had to be, cause times were hard.

She whupped ass and didn't take names. I once saw her punch a man in his stomach and put her knee in his face cause he ripped her off. My mother was also very intelligent and she demanded that of her children. To be intelligent, You know what I mean?"

I nod my head and he continues to talk.

" She demanded that we be strong and to not take shit off of anyone. She taught us of our African roots as best she could, stories of our glory. When I was 5 she made me sing in the chorus so that I would grow used to crowds and she would play the radio and the T.v and make me read at the same time. She said that I had to be able to pay attention to many things and she would ask me questions about all three mediums as I studied.

I grew up dirt ass poor, three pairs of pants and about 10 or 12 shirts, yet I was always clean.

My dad was about the coolest man I ever knew, he often rescued me from my mother and her rigid world. He was smart in another way, I mean he was book smart but he also saw things that other people didnt see, I often think he would have made a great judge.

He taught me of nature, how to live off of the land. He drank and when he drank he talked to me of things as he saw them. He knew where an animal would run across a trail and he taught me to see it as well. He taught me how to kill and when to kill. 

I never saw him kill but I have seen him lay a man flat with one punch for insulting a woman.

I never doubted that he would fuck someone up.

He never trusted white people and he always seemed to be tolerating them.

He took me to the bars with him and he showed me the ways of man and woman. By the time I was seven I had seen men die and women fucked in the alleys and on the sidewalks where I waited with the other boys whose fathers were in the bars.

When I was about ten my parents divorced and we moved into the projects.

The life that I used to see only on the weekends became my life and I realized that these were a different people, their world was hard and you had to be hard to survive.

When I first moved into the projects I had to fight everyday I had three sisters and dudes tried them but in reality they were trying me. Seeing if I was a punk or a man. I showed them I was a man and was accepted.

In time I became the criminal mastermind of my little gang of thieves and we started to wear better clothes and eat more and we grew thick and strong. I always planned the way that we stole from the malls and stores and we always got away. At school we were the ones to be feared if you got us wrong and we ran the halls with a strong hand and choke chains which we would wrap around our fists as we beat a bitch down.

Eventually we came under the attention of a program which was ran by an old militant black man who had multiple sclerosis. Everyone called him Cave Man but to us he was a miracle. He brought in revolutionaries and children old freedom fighters and they told us of our glory and it seemed to meld with what my mother had told me as a child.

For the first time in many years I left the projects... I mean mentally.

I also left physically, these people had connections, they taught us African dance and Karate, meditation and physics.

They took us on trips to great monuments and told us their true origins. The lies of the society that we lived in.

We spoke in front of city council meetings and in the governors office about life in the ghetto and soon the program that caveman had grew to include even more projects.

There was a lot of tension but Caveman kept us from killing each other and we learned.

It was at this time that I came into contact with the Nation of Islam and some people from the islands called the Rastafarians.

These brothers were more militant than anyone that I had ever seen before and they wore their black with much pride... They told me of Hannibal and Shaka Zulu, they gave me book which broke down the Bible and Quran and the system that we live under. 

I began to realize that something had to be done and I started to study in earnest.

One day woke up and something hit me. I was about nineteen at this time and I had been hearing a story about a white man who rode through the neighborhood and lured young boys into his car, he would entice them with candy and money and friendship and eventually he would have sex with them.

For weeks this story had resonated in me and I knew that something had to be done.

I started to watch the man.

I learned his route and one day I put my plan into action.

I put on a tight t shirt and some jeans and started to walk his route, I knew that I would run into him, creature of habit was he.

I walked a couple of block before I looked around and saw his car at the corner behind me.

I heard it as it pulled up and he looked at me and said "You want a ride?" 

I said that I was not going far but he said "Don't worry I will take you there."

I walked to his car and climbed in he drove away.

He asked me where I was going and I gave him some story about being mad at my girlfriend.

He asked me if I wanted to drink some beer with him. Smoke some weed. 

I acted like I was thinking and then I said "Sure."

I asked him where we were going to go and he told me that he knew somewhere we could pull and drink and talk. I said okay and he drove to the place. It was behind a city pool and since it was fall it was closed. it was in the city but it was pretty secluded and he pulled in and started to talk  to me. I pretended to sip at the beer and I really pulled the joint. I had been smoking for some time by then.

I guess he thought I was tipsy then and he tried to touch my thigh.

It was at this time that I pulled the gun from my waistband and put it between his eyes and pulled the trigger. His brains splattered across the door frame and out of the window.  I pulled the typewritten note from my pocket which explained what had transpired here and threw it on him and wiped the car down.

I walked away as if nothing had happened. 

He was the first man that I killed but he would not be the last.

THE SYSTEM ON TWO BY TWO. FEATURING ROB MARTIN

[THE SYSTEM ON TWO BY TWO] FEATURING ROB MARTIN
THE MUSIC FOR THIS PHASE OF THE STORY

ROB
Given the word System, you think of mechanics, parts and functionality, given this system’s ass backwards, the 1% profit off malfunctioning and dysfunctional mentalities. Underlying root of the word Entrepreneur is creator, see we put the work in faith, we never idle waiting on idols to become a savior. Society role is very major; it’s like a facility for mass production. You come out the factory becoming in debt to what you’re consuming and wind up being the Devil’s consumption. It’s a game, child’s play, they feel that they got to win cause they was born to lose dude, just explaining the sense behind the powerfully insane has a few screws loose. Not fully mature or balanced in their chakras, spiritual dementia, demented. Like demons sucking the joy out the life of the planet, no plants, everything cemented. Burial, buried underneath the comfort of technology, controlling the air waves of thought, stimuli and impulses. Conquer and divide all ways like they live Moses, concrete your beauty, like they never seen roses. Steady praying and hoping for His return soon not knowing we must facilitate it. Like we got all parts here, we just forgot the mechanics, so we have to rehabilitate us. Look at our design, recognize we greatest gift and solution to ending egotistical institutions, world illusions and pollution… but we have to trust the very Beings that we’re afraid of, ourselves.

JERALD
This fucked up system of have and have nots...Dead people on the hospital steps while the doctor drives a benz... A whole family just got evicted again... Daddy lost his job and momma smoking the rock that the government lets in... Terrorists riding round in the blue and white or whatever color their tank is... Misinformation on the telly again... Saggy pants and verbal malnutrition as pumped to the youth... Lil Wayne... Flocka and half naked bitches and hoes... Betta lock yo motherfucking does... Bout to drop that shit to the flo... Let go... Let go...
A street minister of the old school with a link to the new... Would you listen if I slapped you with the truth... slipped you some witches brew... From the lawn of the white house to the campus of FSU these bitches got you fooled... Slavery under a new name as the prison complex grows at alarming rates... Pepsi slipping you dead babies in plastic bottles that line the grocery shelves... Santa Claus and the fucking elves... Thanksgiving turkey got you full and sleepy... Indians died by the millions and here you celebrate... Slaves to a system of thought control... Free yourself... Free yourself

BY ROB MARTIN AND JERALD HAMZAHFRUQ MURPHY