Dear Family 18

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