Hot 16…Or More…”MY, NAME’s MALIK; I’MMA BLOW!!!”

This month, since it’s the month that begins everything and kicks off the year, I saw it fitting to set the first Hot 16…Or More… of the year off with the verse that kicked off the very first track on my very 1st mixtape, which began everything for me.

Like most of the material on the Crazy 8’s mixtape, I wrote this in the fall of 2003. I was in college and hungry to make my statement. I can still remember being in my homeboy’s dorm room laying this down. I had just finished with my earlier collection of songs from that summer and I was unhappy with the fact that I didn’t attack every song and that I never released it to the campus. So I set out to record a short set of tracks over industry beats to keep up with the rising trend of artists rhyming over whatever was hot at the moment and in order to reach a broader range of my peers. I also figured the low-risk move of rapping over other artist’s stuff was a good way for me to sharpen my skills and test new flows. And that I did.

The kid who’s dorm room I’d be in was a young rapper going by the name of Blaze, who I called myself taking under my wing. I liked his dedication to what he was doing. He made his own recording set-up at his desk and started putting a few sampled  beats together on his own to start pushing an album he began. He was a little younger than me, and because he lived in the same exact room that I had stayed in the year prior, I felt like it was all kismet  and my obligation to be his mentor on all things rap, dorm and girl related. What was funny is that Blaze is one of the most clever and independent young dudes I had encountered, so he never really needed me, tho he kinda took to the apprentice role at times. That relationship played into that dynamic here and there, when he would find himself asking me for advice, or credit me for putting him on to something. Needless to say, I was feeling myself during that time. My status on campus was that of an O.G. at that point, and new kids were looking to make their mark, bumping me out the way ever so slightly while showing respect. Blaze represented that. And because he was nice with it musically and enterprising, he actually inspired me and provided a kind of friendly competition. A little bit more than my usual partner in rhyme, Brandon Carter, because this was closer to home; 2 New York kids with similar rhyme sensibilities. Seeing the little following Blaze was gathering, coupled with the esteem that the younger cats were holding me to, motivated me to exceed whatever reputation I had built, but introduce myself properly since I had never officially released anything. I wanted to kill it on a high energy beat and showcase the flexibility of my flow. I thought Peedi Crakk‘s “Fallback” was a great choice because the pace matched that hunger. It sounded like something crashing in. Plus it wasn’t a beat that I had heard a million rappers over, but it was still current and garnered instant head-nod reaction. I wanted to sound technical but effortless. I wanted to start off A-typically. I wanted to impress new listeners and validate the beliefs of all the folks who had been looking at me as the man.

I wanted to make a statement. And this was it.

As you can see, the response was so good, that I thought it would still be the best possible intro 3 years later when The Crazy 8’s hit the world.

 

“My,

name’s Malik; I’mma Blow,

change the beat – I been so,

pa-tient-ly waiting for,

ways to lead off – I’m so…

Dynamic – you cannot Hammer the flow,

less the nail is in the coffin – the coffin is where you go!

So close the box,

I can go off the top,

I can blow off your top,

have you with your head in your hands – tell you hold your thought…

Better learn how to swim,

or be floatin’ pon de river – like you Elephant Man!

I put the river pon dem,

Niggas thug, til their Lifestyles go POP! Like them little condoms.

But my style stop, all them niggas flossin’,

Like ‘Lights Out!’ Pop! – got it gettin’ all dim…(hmmnnn…)

And I ain’t tryin’a set the mood,

cause half the time, these dudes homosexual

-but no, I don’t gaybash,

I stay grabbing their girls – bring ’em back; now that ho’s mo’ sexual

-aaanndddd…

I think, therefore Iam,

and cause I think about Pussy, niggas think Iam Pussy!

No young,

I’m a kid who thinks out the box,

Mighty Joe Young,

I Gorilla-Pimp out the box – and oh! uhmmm…

Your girl like the fact I write rhymes,

And when I call her crib, she call it the HOT line,

cause I’m good at spittin’ all of them layin’-the-pipe lines,

we did it in the kitchen – I fixed her pipelines!

With a 2 finger movement,

if she got a leak – bring a tool in, to fix the pipes,

I tie her tubes – get a kiss goodnight,

if it’s plumbing, I’m the Super Man! – No Kryptonite.

It’s no spliffs tonight…

cause I do not smoke,

I do not drink…

But I hope…

That ya’ll do not think…

Cause I don’t drink,

and I don’t smoke,

that I won’t put a piece by your throat!

The punishment’ll fit the crime I figure,

cause it’s obvious that Lik is not the grimiest nigga,

In this business of industry thugs,

no Malik isn’t a thug,

Lik ain’t no dealer of drugs,

Liky is ill – just because!

They say the flow is heaven sent,

so if you wanna test him it’s your death an’ I’ll make sure you’re Heaven-sent!

So keep on bringin’ that bull to me,

and you won’t need Red Bull to give you wings!!

 

Hope you learned something.

To heardownload this track, click on the image of the cover below

The REAL Malik Speaks on “The Game” via premiere party

There I was.

Our former columnist and favorite renaissance woman, TDJ brought me out with her when she was in my neck of the woods. The event was a viewing party for the premiere of the wildly popular dramedy, The Game on the BET network. What else could bring a bunch of New York transplants out in the beginning of what was poised to be the next snow storm of 2011 so far??

Not only was the venue the newly opened competition to my day job, but I found myself amongst a bunch of the so-called taste-makers and socialites of the new urban professional scene. Most ironically, I found myself exchanging light conversation with one of the very people who appear crossed out in the banner at the top of my blog, from the cast of the short-lived BET reality series, Harlem Heights (a show full of a cast consisting of only 1 true Harlemite – hence them being crossed out in my banner).

This type of scene, which usually makes me throw up in my mouth a little, was refreshingly cool and calm. I don’t know if rolling with TDJ has some kind of magic or something, but the last few events that I’ve been to with her have all had a down to Earth vibe to them with folks who would otherwise be pretentious or uppity, being very warm and friendly. It didn’t hurt that I was practically surrounded by women and I got to chill with one of my favorite writers, The Jaded New Yorker. There were a few random dudes threatening to steal my mojo, but here in particular, everyone came for a common accord, to watch The Game on multiple flat screens at the same time and share unified reactions and responses to the newness of things.

Even the guys paid attention. I’m assuming that since it was a taste-maker event full of the “Harlem Elite”, that these random dudes are writers or in the entertainment business somehow…I don’t know…I don’t concern myself with what men do on average. But the unison in the room was felt every time the commercial break was over and the show came back on as ‘shushes’ spread across the floor prompting everyone to be quiet and focus. And focus we did…

Our hostess for the evening, the vivacious Eb the Celeb captured footage and conducted interviews throughout the night and put it together in this clip. You can get a feel for what I was feeling here…

Oh yeah, and I guess the show wasn’t bad either. Just really don’t like when dudes have my name. There’s never been a cool guy named Malik on television. I HATE this character! Glad he gets all the flyest girls on the show tho…That ain’t too far from the truth!

*Zoloft Files Edition* Hot 16…Or More…AMETHYST HAIL (THE RAIN)

Yeah!!!

Let’s start Volume 2 and Day 9 of The Zoloft Files off with a bang!

This is Track 1 off of Volume 2 and my 2nd Favorite song off of this collection.

It just sets the tone for the whole project, and while it mirrors the sentiments of the 1st track off of Volume 1, “Death Of A Salesman”, it is waaay less intense and particular. It’s actually more telling of the entire mood in which I was in while making this mixtape. It’s bigger than Hip-hop! For real!

Thanks to 9th Wonder for making this beat available for me to dance all over!

Get your umbrellas,

Ella,

Ella,

Aye!

It’s no stones in my cloud!!

No,

them stones coming down:

Amethyst Hail, violet and round

It violently drowns,

the skylight is loud,

the stifling sound of…

Purple Rain – feel like Twilight right now.

But it’s broad day,

it feels like it al-ways,

rains on me…

Personal storm cloud Halo adorns me.

The weather man warned me,

‘it’s gon’ rain!’

Blacuvue

-but my attitude was pitter-patter

-like I got my own private Seattle,

blame it on the elevation,

tried to get high off life,

but that precipitation -had something in mind more like…

Final Destination,

Pickett fences visions – went the way of wicked witches.

And they get wet, decay – melt away,

and the drips against the window pane – paints the picture of the fix I’m in cause…

My life is condescending,

I breathe into the glass,

-and write ‘SignMe!’ with my index finger – hopin you pass…

And do just what the fog just said,

Nah! This far from Charlotte’s Web,

no subliminal advertising can hope to market him.

No lighting in a bottle,

just the quiet of the storm,

silent thunder can describe his hunger, cause it’s quite as strong.

But if it’s unheard,

how can they put you on, like a ponch?

Tried to launch my career,

and turn into The Swan

– from the Ugly Duckling,

-stuck here in this muddy rut that,

-that they call comin up and bubblin,

(shhiiiiit!)

I’ve been up and comin’,

-for an uncomfortably fuckin long time…

And the fault’s mine,

cause I ain’t listen to the forecast,

I saw sunshine.

When it was obviously cummulus,

-now it’s gotta be hubris cause, to think you gonna see son shine,

is comically humurous!

But I’m so serious,

sure there’s a chance in Hell,

I’m only happy when it rains,

I’m so Shirley Manson – Hell!

Or high-water,

my water’s – eyewater,

if there’s a flood inside,

then I’m Noah,

and the Ark is my Art!

And this rain is Acid,

and this pain, has come with disdain and made it vapid,

-like to make it evap-orate,

-but it can torment you…

But how long?

Cause the downpour has been torrential,

on this instrumental – it’s The Rain,

the rain, the rain…”

Hope you learned something…

Click The picture of the mixtape cover to download it FREE.

Sex & The Chocolate City – Entry #10

A Serendipitous moment on the train.

A couple of weeks ago I wrote a blog about this guy I kept seeing on the train playing drums. I hadn’t seen him in the last couple of weeks since I had been out of town for almost a month. Well it just so happened that while I was on my way to Malik-16’s house last night, planning to tell him I really had nothing to write about for today’s blog post, worried about my numbness and lack of love life…guess who walks on the train after me: Drummer Boy. He instantly saw me and mentioned he hadn’t seen me in a while. Of course I was blushing and stuttering like a love stuck fool. The whole train was now staring at us because he decided to position his drum and himself right in front of me, away from the rest of his crew, while he played. Swoooooon

Taking a leap of faith from this serendipitous moment I gave him my number (along with my donation). I just ripped out a sheet a paper and scratched down my digits and he smiled then moved on to the next car. By the time I made it to Malik’s house I was already over thinking the entire moment.

It’s not like he asked me for my number. What if he had a wife or girlfriend? He’s way to good looking not too. And if he’s working on a train, does he even have a cell phone? Should we go out for coffee? How? Who will pay? Where does he live? What if he’s crazy? Good lord what have I done! Now crazy Drummer Boy has my number. Damn, damn, damn!

About an hour later, Drummer Boy texts me, asking permission to call, (answering the question about a cell phone). He was very sweet, polite, and poised. Then, amazingly, he asked me on a date and even offered to pick me up…in his car! To make a long story short, I’m excited and proud of myself for taking a chance with Drummer Boy. I’m probably one of the few women who would have ever taken that type of chance (or so I’ve been told). Even if nothing become of the situation, it’s still nice to know I looked beyond my shallowness and decided not to judge a book by its cover.

TDJ