Dear Fam, 3/7/2014
I’m working on mail for you, but
Incandesio sent me Rob-D’s response to my last wrecking ball entitled “SPM
Wrecked My Son and All I Got Was This Stupid Shirt.” He came back improved, I
thought, and now he’s only two million miles away from me. He’s gained about
three miles so far. Let me repost his flow:
____________________
South Park
Mexican??? The fuck??
I just knew
you'd be back.....
See I
respect you SP but one thing I can promise you,
A lot of
fools have fallen got demolished, fought the God of Doom,
Crawling
from the bottom womb flaunting like the modest do, solemnly I'm only showin
skill like you taught me to,
Mockin me
will cause a wound, a loss to greed is all we knew,
economies
have gone to be the mockery of "logic" goons,
Follow me
then profit too click it back and cock it fool,
Callin me to
table 3 you think I'm not gon rock it too???
Look at what
you've made me do I'm sorry Bro but here's the truth,
I gotta be
that guy that be the guy that sees a dying crew.
Don't tell
me that I'm lying fool,
Your cell
has seen you crying too,
My minds in
twined with lines that rhyme with shotti hide the body soon
I'm
lyrically a sonic boom and spiritually demonic soon,
No fear from
thee the one who seeks unleash the beast with toxic fumes,
You say that
raps a simple job but you could never cripple Rob
Comin at you
for the third time call it triple hom...
Think I'm in
a pickle dawg? SPM I'm pickin on,
Takin on a
legend got my writing Skillz kickin on,
Poverty we
livin on, robbery and petty mobs,
How the fuck
we sposed to take this life se-rious-ly God??
Picture
perfect home's crumbling before your children's eyes,
Keepin life
disguised till they're old enough to realize and see it with their real eyes
and know the truth from real lies,
Coldest
roots tied up in a knot, I mean real ties,
Competition's
field mice, can I get the meal price?
Chill guys
I'm only in this deal cuz I'm still ice,
Y'all knew
that I was fidna wreck,
No I'm not
illiterate, you can paint the picture homie I can be the silhouette,
Kill it bit
by little bit, "Fuck money cuz it ain't shit,
You need
enough for a forty and a cigarette",
I'm a
beginning vet nigga so I'm intellect
Shouldn't of
hit the 'X' key homie Shoulda hit select,
And picked a
different Mex Los, make you second guess,
Far from
blessed yet I still pray with emptiness,
Check the
synthesis, give ya best attentiveness,
Next thing
on my agenda is to light a sack and reminisce
Don't want
me as your nemesis, the king of Sega Genesis,
Olympic
hits, tremendous gift
Yet still
I'm on the menace list,
I'll end
this with these sentence's every time you try ta send a diss,
Ill twist
your wrist, you'll slip a disc
Rob D you
best remember this......
"Yippie
Kai Yay Motha Fucka!!"
(Bruce
Willis in Die Hard)
Holla at ya
Los.
-Rob D-
____________________
Here’s a message
to my nigga, Rob D: Wut Up, Playa. Always good to hear from you. I’ve got a few
things to say about your flow thus far. I actually rewrote the first eight
lines, just to give you a different view:
See,
I respect you S.P. but one thing I can promise you
a
lotta fools have fallen to the wall of tombs God of Doom
bodies
fill embalming rooms, movin to a coffin soon
glocks
that shoot for small disputes, honest truth I’ve gotta prove
that
on the cool I’ve chopped and screwed, not just a few but all da crews
droppin
dudes in boxer shoes, I’m Mista T in Rocky Two
mommas
lose and fathers sue for murdas I put on the news
double
barrell shotties pointin at’cha like some college boobs......
The last line has only one
3-syllable-rhyme-structure – at the end, of course – but the simile was decent
enough to do that.
Other lines, such as line 2, line 4
and line 5, have four 3-syllable-rhyme-structures, (the most you can
have without tongue-twisting.) Lines 6 and 7 have three
3-syllable-rhyme-structures.
The secret is delivering skill, and
at the same time, connecting with the human soul, by using words that feel
natural to the listener, not foreign, or unclear. You’ve got to speak to
people, the same way you would if you weren’t rhyming, yet it must rhyme, and
must sound like natural conversation. We’ll call it “skill they can feel”, and
that’s the only way you’ll ever give them goose bumps.
Some of your rhymes had power,
others made the cut as far as rhymes, but didn’t make the cut as far as a
clear, natural message. Rhymes like bottom womb, “logic” goons, and others that
were cleared for use leave the listener reaching for their meaning, just as you
reached for the rhyme. Every line you write has to make you smile, laugh or
say, “Ooooooh!” I don’t care if it takes you two hours to write two lines, keep
digging till you find the words that feel 100% right. Making real money ain’t
easy, bro it’s a lot of work. Fortunately, I don’t have to work hard to wreck
you, so here’s your plate of ass-whippin and gravy.
The Red Pen That Wrote In Blue
(Another
Cold 40)
True street
fighta, Sheedy say it again
my nigga said
something like, “Let the games begin”
from the start,
from the heart, fulla passion and pain
in the rain, but
it’s funny cause I’m dancin and playin
two fingaz for
dem boys doin time in the pen
two fingaz for
my niggaz out tryin to win
one finga for a
nigga think I ain’t the king
twenty Cadillacs
drippin candy paint with screens
fly talka, sky
walka and a sidewalk chalka
yeah, I saw the
name brands, red Izod, Dockers
only problem was
the shirt, used to be snow white
only problem was
the fool believed his own hype
Mr. God of Doom,
meet Mr. Lord of Fly
even though ya
real job’s a fuckin storage guy
We’ll just act,
but the fact is that, class is in
ya last flow
sounded like you had to grasp for limbs
silly stabs,
twisted raps, listen, man, I live for that
have ya ass
floatin in the pond, like a lilly pad
it’s a fact the
Billy Bad attitude you’ve taken on
isn’t healthy so
ya whole family is sayin, “Rob,
leave Carlos Coy
alone, no one can destroy his throne.
Son, ya getting
fucked, ya even smell like the boy’s cologne!
Only worse can
happen next! How you gon’ match the best?
Damn it, let ya
rap suggest you’ve had it lest you ask for death!
Fans and friends
will know ya tried. Yes, you’ll feel a hole inside.
But Losy is The
Chosen, like, Moses on an open mike!”
roll the dice ya
soul’s the price, nigga, I jus do my job
do it in the
bluish fog ‘n’ post it on a Houston blog
stupid dogs’ll
bark at dragons, who can squab with darkness that is
brutal, Rob,
it’s art with madness, Screwed up songs so far from average
said we had a
dyin crew, I’m the one who’s dyin, fool
dyin to get out
this fuckin private zoo, remind ya who
da fuck I am,
who we are, Dopest of rosters
this is gold
verses copper we got hoes who can drop ya
Brown skin,
Brown within, lived the life of-a-thousand men
made front page
of-the-town you in: “Man Got Killed By A Fountain Pen” lol!
Los
PS. The “Yippie Kai Yay Motha Fucka!”
statement, from Die Hard......
When I first saw that part on the
movie, I thought to myself, “What kind of fucking nerd would think that sounded
dope?”
Well, I guess I know but, honestly –
and I do mean honestly – that shows that you were raised well, brother. I’d
like my sons to think parts like that are cool. But street niggas don’t feel
shit like that. That was the corniest part of the movie!
____________________
A few more words to Rob and the
fans:
Like I said at
the beginning, you’ve got to find the right rhyme. Since yesterday I struggled
with a few of my own rhymes. Yesterday, I had:
isn’t really healthy so ya family is
sayin, “Rob
leave Carlos Coy alone, let the
man enjoy hs throne
But I didn’t feel good about that
rhyme. It wasn’t strong enough, for some reason. First of all, I didn’t like
the vulnerable message of “let” the man enjoy his throne, as if you are
harassing me, So, I woke up and gave it some more thought, it took some time
(quarter of an hour) to find the right one, “no one can destroy his throne.”
I’m not even happy with that one, because I’m not sure if “throne” is in the
right context. But it’s passable. I also had:
brutal, Rob, it’s art with madness, Bruno
Mars on bars and cabbage
I also had:
brutal, Rob, it’s art with madness, movin
blocks to farms and ranches
Still, I didn’t like it enough. I
knew it would take more work, but I knew it would eventually pay off. So, I
thought, in fact, I was on the toilet when it hit me, “Screwed up songs!” I had
something nicer than “movin blocks,” but what could go with “Screwed up songs”?
Ten minutes later, it came to me, and I knew I found it. How? Because it was
the multi-syllable rhyme, but the words were so natural, “so far from
average.” That was it, I was cool with that. Then I find other things that
can improve. And after a while, I’m cool with it. Do that everyday, like a job,
(unlike me), I never practice anymore, but work hard and you grow hard, hard on
the mike, that is.
I could show you many more that I
improved, but don’t give clearance to rhymes less they pass the test,
ay. Rest, play, press lay, west pay, crest yay, blessed day,
fence pray, red gray, sensay. And you just keep trying variations of words that
rhyme. Don’t stop till ya rhyme fucks you up. And never be easily entertained.
Gotta Go,
Los
