Gettin Technical on yall un-civilized muttasuckas.....

My Nigga, Moshadee got a tape out that I mastered (Yeah, I actually "Mastered" a mixtape. got all technical and shit!) I produced 1 joint on there called "Go Dumb" which should have a video shot for it sometime soon, but otherwise its still fly.

word.

So Click Here to download The Progression Mixtape and be happy with life

On Muses

Every writer or artist, no matter how prolific comes to the same point. Drained, empty, tapped out back to the drawing board. Looking for answers, questions to ask, ideas, something fresh. Originality would be a godsend. We all know that no idea’s original, there’s nothing new under the sun, it’s never what you do but how it’s done. I quote Nas (the rapper), but he probably got that from someone else (cue ironic laughter). I digress. So at our proverbial rock bottom (comes to me faster than it should) what do we do? I read somewhere that all of the good stories are waiting to be told, somewhere in a newspaper, or in the anecdote of a stranger. It seems we writers are leeches, piecemeal sculptors, petty thieves, beavers gathering wood for our dam. But back to the title. I’ve been burnt out frequently, questioning my own skills and I read a story on the muse Calliope, an immortal woman whom humans use to inspire epic poetry. I later found out about her sisters, who could also be used to inspire different artistic styles and traditions. The Greeks loved this deus ex machina, rabbit from the hat shtick. The prize that falls from heaven into your lap. It got me thinking, what if I had my own muse for writing? A living, breathing, impetus for my pen. I hear photographers get them all the time. If I should be so lucky to find an angel like that to adore and renew my mind, motivate and arouse me, one to actually talk and latch onto, I’d be the happiest man on the planet. What if these muses were out there somewhere, waiting to be used? I doubt they’d be waiting on Facebook, Craigslist or Google (search), or in some bar or coffee house. So I’ll suggest something: instead of a flesh and blood muse or a more impersonal one in book film or audio form, how about simple immersion? Immerse yourself in a feeling, an emotion, an atmosphere. My best writings have always been inspired by an organic source, something real in my life. If you want to write about your past, surround yourself with nostalgia. If its love you seek to manufacture, be around lovers, find a flame, rekindle your romance and so on. This idea is painfully obvious, but maybe the environment to produce the idea is difficult to come by. I’m going to go finish something about death and werewolves by sitting in my dilapidated attic and talking walks to stare at the moon, waiting for something to pop up, at least until my muse shows up, in whatever flesh blood container it chooses (human or otherwise). Remember, atmosphere!

The Truth Vol.3

Now I know its been a while since I've done this, but I feel I need to put yall up on game to some FUTURISTIC shit. Now Im going on a limb with this one. Im putting together 2 words alot of dudes "WISH" would be together to describe someone. alas, I believe I might've struck gold with this one...

"Thick" and "Asian".
yeah, I said it.

You think Im bullshitting?
I pulled up a few pictures, just to show you guys Im playing no games

Her name is "Annie Thao"

yeeeah.

a few more.

Uhhhhhnnnnnnn....
shit is critical.

a couple more...

ok, 2 more. Im having too much fun.


ok. last one, and Im out of here like last Christmas.

for all you Smart Dumb asses out there...

Peace.

Broken Pen x Paranormal

Ignorance.

Part 1.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UzMClmWuGC8



Part 2.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WxvhLmBMgpA



Promo Overtime
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ePQrTjoLABc



Beeeezies.

Broken pen needs YOU.

You know it like a poet, baby doll.

I need some shit. Heres a list I've composed of some things I need to have taken care of in order to fully manifest my gangsterness.

ok, here it is mama.

• More people besides myself to write for Royal Arrogance. Its nothing really, just post up some fly shit and make people say "hot damn, these royal arrogance cats is HEAVY.
• get a dot com. I got the money to take care of that, so yall good.
• get more followers.
  
• get a list of people who can do certain things for free. whether it be graphic design, recording videos or volunteer their girlfriend for a amateur mud wrestling league Im trying to start up.
• finish recording this fucking music.

So thats about it. I need some people who are down to get Belligerent in a Sophisticated fashion.

hit up the
twitter
the official royal arrogance I never update, but I still have
the myspace page I put my music up on. You should listen to my music. My music is AMAZING.

and lets connect, politic, DITTO.
peace
incarcerated scarfaces.

From the darkest parts of Africa...(Part 1)

What it does?

Yeah, Im sorry I dont update. Real Life is a trip. I know its been a while since I actually Blogged about something for the sake of blogging but as I said before, Real Life is a muthafuckin Trip, with or without Depressant substances.

So while I was away, I was making great music, taking long walks, learning how to dance, drinking, and just being an overall gangster in my own right. But one of the main things that seem to hit home is the thought of being a "Black Man" in America. From what society gives me, how society looks at me, to what my own brothers and sisters expect of me because of me being "Black" and a child of the African Diaspora.

Yeah, I used the word "Diaspora", Hoe.

Anyway lets attack this shit.

First off, let me talk about "Being Black". Now If you want to talk about race, the whole concept is too fragile to actually have any logical standing in my opinion. I just have a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that If people (mainly people of african descent, but no exclusively) see my dark skin and nappy hair, they assume that I listen to a certain type of music, Im attracted to a certain type of female, I believe in so and so, my religious beliefs are limited to a handful of denominations, and I feel a certain way about social/political policies all because of my darkskin and incredibly nappy hair (shit is so dence, light cant escape it.) So I say this. I would say we as a people are "Black"in reaction to how society treats us, not becuase we are actually Africans in America with dreams of heading back to the motherland . If you look at anyones ethnic / racial make up in America, no one is "pure" anything. No offence, but no matter how you look or where youre from, we are all mutts in our own right. As time goes on more and more mixing will take place within the human community till the whole world is just a big ass version of Brazil. Look at someones ethnic backround, shit looking like a benneton commercial gone wrong.

Shit, theres alot of spooky shit when it comes to the relationship between African Americans and Africans. Long story short (and dont quote me on this, but Im about 87% sure I'm right when I say this) Its people in Africa calling us lazy bastards that dont know jack shit about Africa, yet quick to say thats what they are. You also have African Americans thinking that all they do In Africa is hunt for prey, watch out for Lions and listen to Lady Blacksmith Mambazo all day. Niggas got the game fucked up. word.

So what it all boils down to it (because Im kinda pressed for time at the moment.) when I hear someone call me a "Black Man", there is an automatic tag to my character and being because of my physical appearance and an assumption of racial / ethnic identitiy. But If I'm called just a "Man" Not only does it speak to who I am, and what I stand for but also what other men stand for and can relate to, regardless of racial backround.

I got some more shit to say, but I have to dip.

so until next time....

holler.

Broken Pen presents "The Beat Tape vol.1"

For all you rappers and shit. 25$ non exclusive. Exclusive, contact me.

Click Here to download the tape.

Thank you, and god bless.

(some might be offended by the cover. well, tough titties. no pun intended. PEACE.)