Kanye x Cudi x SNL
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@theizmtakeson
Kanye x Cudi x SNL

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For Frank, for World Poetry Day
Frank, thank you for freeing my from my cocoon. This is for you. Even if you never see this or read this. For Frank on World Poetry Day I spent my days up on the roof with you. shit, nothing like this type of view. looking down on the gold statues and silicone titties. yeah I caught you lookin cuz I was lookin too. through your marijuana eyes and acid conversations I got lost in your labyrinth. in my dreams, you let me set up the drums while you went H.A.M. on the synths. then....you disappeared. like 1, 2 chains with a Jesus piece. vanished, POOF, into thin air. you left us lonely. I looked for you in the liquor stores hoping I'd hear your voice. I looked for you in papers, magazines. maybe you left the pages moist. I looked for you in church, in the choir stand, the tenors always make me stand. I looked for you in the mirror. because you are, I am. the media, these paps, the journalists, they think they know you. they don't know shit about that melanin potion. I bet they couldn't pronounce your last name before you changed it to Ocean. Breaux, Christopher Edwin (where they get Lonny from?) now Christopher Francis to you. changed your name at 22 i was like "Yo this nigga the truth". when niggas turn into Gods walls come tumbling.... when you dropped two albums in a weekend we all went stumbling, rumbling toward.... my little poem is shit to your bank account. my well wishes, you wipe your ass with. but if anyone talks shit about my Frank, I'm likely to kill a bitch. ....it's the same way you showed me.
RTV1:Â âBroken Likeâ
âBroken Likeâ is one of the last songs created for the mixtape The Plight of the Centaur (which has been scratched) that landed onto the next album, Rhyme Therapy Vol. 1: DESTROY. During the initial sessions for RTV1, it hadnât even been born yet. I was still fighting through recording songs about homophobia, insecurity, suicide. I hadnât even addressed the current things that had gone on during my stint in Atlanta from 2010 through 2014 and even after leaving. Rhyme Therapy Vol. 1: DESTROY is a lesson in self-evaluation. Turning the reflection inside out, locating all the missing and broken pieces and coming back together, whole. I knew if I was going to have successful relationships, platonic and rrrrromantico, that I need to get to the root of my issues. And really dig in the wounds so they can finally heal. And I can move on. And love myself. And love others. And, most importantly, let others love me and not have to question whether itâs real or conditional. During the process, I seemed to keep attracting the wrong types of brothers. Ones with severe emotional/spiritual damage, ones who saw an opportunity and attached themselves to me, ones who used me for their sexual gain, ones who were so bored that I was finally attractive enough to entertain. It never dawned on me until afterwards. I was so engulfed in the flighty attention that I didnât see the forest for the trees. So I pressed my luck. âHe might be different. I canât treat everyone the same.â And no, you shouldnât but you have to be wise. Recognize the red flags when God throws them at you. I didnât pay attention. And I paid a heavy price for it. Every time. Left to my pillows, tears soaking the cotton and he runs off into the sunset with the next dude. Sad right? One day, I became fed up. Fed up with the disappointments. Fed up with feeling like Iâm not good enough for someone who isnât good enough for themselves. Fed up with locking myself away out of fear of people. Fed up with feeling like Iâll never know what true love is and feels like. I remember being heavily addicted to Death Grips around the time I made this. That loud, Nine Inch Nails-industrial shit just turned into this. I banged my head like a 90s metal singer, I drank a couple cans of Steel Reserve, I let all that pain and disappointment build up in me and âBroken Likeâ was done in 15 minutes. Making this album taught me a lot about myself. I am not perfect. I war against my insecurities every day. I used to tax people for things that I was even doing and I working hard to fix that. I am not for everyone and everyone is not for me and I have to be okay with that. No matter how much I show how worthy I am or how much of a great guy I am. If the mutual admiration isnât there, youâre wasting your time and asking to be hurt. Iâm rather up front these days. âSo what the fuck do you really want? Cuz Iâm not beat for the bullshit, no disrespect.â Sometimes you just gotta let em know. Youâre worth it. That dark skin, those thick thighs, someone one day will appreciate everything about you that everyone despises. I was called monkey when I was growing up. I never thought I was handsome or attractive. That didnât start happening until my late 20s. We gotta stop allowing society and the media and people around us to define what beauty is and how beautiful YOU are. Sometimes we gotta recognize that ourselves, within ourselves. That shit is hard when everything youâve experienced has told you otherwise. But nah, keep fighting. Guard your hearts, family. I love you. Fuck this man made holiday. Donât let 24 hours of sentiment have you in your feelings. Tomorrow, heâs going back to fuckin other people and sheâs going back to manipulating people for what she wants. They ainât shit for the rest of the year. You are the shit every day of the year. Let them have their moment. We know the truth. And to those who celebrate love with their loved one every day: FUCK YALL! #AntiValentinesDay Sike nah, wishing the lovers out there a beautiful day today AND EVERYFUCKINDAY! Somebody take my phone, IZM.
https://soundcloud.com/eyedotzeedotem/broken-like
#soulfie
Eishkatai saykai ellacosee.... Sorry I had to speak in tongues.
#NationalComingOutDay I have two "coming out" stories. Since I've been rather open in the past few months, I figured I'd share my story. I'm sure there are other black boys going through worse right now. It's January 2003 and after 1am, clearly I'm thinking everyone's sleeping. I decided to call up a friend from college and we were just chatting about things we couldn't talk about in class. My aunt overheard the conversation I was having, stormed my room, snatched my phone. "After all these years you've been in church? And you know what the Bible says? And those disgusting words you were saying? Just disgusting", etc., gave me the Jesus spiel. The look in her face let me know my favorite evangelist and I would never be the same again. She avoided me and didn't acknowledge me for almost a month. It was now time to take me back to college for the Spring semester. That Sunday on the ride up after church, she asked me to reach in the back seat to grab a folder. It was white and heavy. "Open it and read out loud what's inside of it." I couldn't believe she LITERALLY printed article upon article of homosexuality being condemned in the Bible, what Jesus says about being gay, how you can't enter the kingdom of heaven, Sodom and Gomorrah, you name it! As I began reading her syllabus of gay bashing, tears rolled down my face, staining the ink of the pages. It got to a point where we hit Route 17 toward Mahwah and I couldn't take it anymore. I wiped my face, stopped reading and tried to unlock the car door to jump out of it. I'd rather be dead than to deal with this. She erratically pulled over into the Wendy's parking lot. I was still thinking about killing myself. The woman who practically raised me from 10 to 19 was now telling me what a fucked up person I am in Jesus' eyes. It gets blurry after that because I shut her out. She eventually said something to the groove of "I don't approve of it but I love you." She could've said that weeks ago and saved me months of depression following. Since then, she and I don't have the same relationship that we used to. And I miss that, I miss her. My mother on the other hand: different story. She was in jail at the time and I hadn't seen in her maybe 13 years at the time. My cousin, whom I'm also estranged from, told me she had seen my mother in the prison she worked at. I didn't believe her until I went to visit. For my second visit, I mustered up the nerve to tell her. This is how it went. I love telling this story. ME: Mommy, you sure you don't want any grandchildren? MOMMY: Anthony, I am 27 years old. I ain't trying to be nobody's grandmother chile. (At the time, she was approaching 50. Don't tell her I told you.) ME (*deepens voice*): Mommy, you SURE you don't want any grandchildren? MOMMY: Boy what did I say? I'm still young. You ain't making me old before my time. ME (*drops head and looks over glasses; voice shaky*): Mommy, are you sure? MOMMY: (leans in and holds my hands): Anthony, you are my child and I will always love you no matter who you chose to love, do you understand me? You are my gift from God and I will always love and support you. I broke down. Like...the ugly crying. When the snot is running from your nose and mixes with your tears and can't tell what's what? That kinda crying. Every since then, I've been able to accept myself more and more. Apparently, that was the key. More than often, black men don't have the same narrative with their matriarch like I do. Sometimes, they're kicked out the house. Beat by their fathers and family members to only go outside and be beat up by society. Do you think people would really CHOOSE this for themselves? I locked myself inside of my body for years. I faced self-hate, suicidal thoughts and never feeling real brotherhood from my community. People don't understand the pain, the solitude you endure because you don't want to lose your family, your friends, your community. No one is asking you to march in the Pride parade. But what we do ask is that you remember that we deserve the same love that you do: that unconditional love. Young black man dealing with your sexuality: when no tells you they love you, it's okay. I love you. God loves you even when they say God doesn't. I was told God would never bless me because of my sexuality. Not only did he bless me with the gift of music but God used that gift to get me on a Spike Lee soundtrack and featured in the film. It's afforded me performance opportunities in places and establishments you wouldn't believe I performed at. Don't let your sexuality stop you. Don't let it consume you. You are more than a sexual escapade. You are more than the faggot everyone is calling you. You are a man a purpose, a man of valor, a man of strength. Hold your head high, you the shit! If you, brother or sister, ever need to talk, I'm here for you. For real.
#NationalComingOutDay

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A chat with photographer Benjamin Eagle, who was in Haiti shooting for his project "The Spirits of Jacmel."
Get into this. Some absolutely amazing photos.
#NationalComingOutDay I have two "coming out" stories. Since I've been rather open in the past few months, I figured I'd share my story. I'm sure there are other black boys going through worse right now. It's January 2003 and after 1am, clearly I'm thinking everyone's sleeping. I decided to call up a friend from college and we were just chatting about things we couldn't talk about in class. My aunt overheard the conversation I was having, stormed my room, snatched my phone. "After all these years you've been in church? And you know what the Bible says? And those disgusting words you were saying? Just disgusting", etc., gave me the Jesus spiel. The look in her face let me know my favorite evangelist and I would never be the same again. She avoided me and didn't acknowledge me for almost a month. It was now time to take me back to college for the Spring semester. That Sunday on the ride up after church, she asked me to reach in the back seat to grab a folder. It was white and heavy. "Open it and read out loud what's inside of it." I couldn't believe she LITERALLY printed article upon article of homosexuality being condemned in the Bible, what Jesus says about being gay, how you can't enter the kingdom of heaven, Sodom and Gomorrah, you name it! As I began reading her syllabus of gay bashing, tears rolled down my face, staining the ink of the pages. It got to a point where we hit Route 17 toward Mahwah and I couldn't take it anymore. I wiped my face, stopped reading and tried to unlock the car door to jump out of it. I'd rather be dead than to deal with this. She erratically pulled over into the Wendy's parking lot. I was still thinking about killing myself. The woman who practically raised me from 10 to 19 was now telling me what a fucked up person I am in Jesus' eyes. It gets blurry after that because I shut her out. She eventually said something to the groove of "I don't approve of it but I love you." She could've said that weeks ago and saved me months of depression following. Since then, she and I don't have the same relationship that we used to. And I miss that, I miss her. My mother on the other hand: different story. She was in jail at the time and I hadn't seen in her maybe 13 years at the time. My cousin, whom I'm also estranged from, told me she had seen my mother in the prison she worked at. I didn't believe her until I went to visit. For my second visit, I mustered up the nerve to tell her. This is how it went. I love telling this story. ME: Mommy, you sure you don't want any grandchildren? MOMMY: Anthony, I am 27 years old. I ain't trying to be nobody's grandmother chile. (At the time, she was approaching 50. Don't tell her I told you.) ME (*deepens voice*): Mommy, you SURE you don't want any grandchildren? MOMMY: Boy what did I say? I'm still young. You ain't making me old before my time. ME (*drops head and looks over glasses; voice shaky*): Mommy, are you sure? MOMMY: (leans in and holds my hands): Anthony, you are my child and I will always love you no matter who you chose to love, do you understand me? You are my gift from God and I will always love and support you. I broke down. Like...the ugly crying. When the snot is running from your nose and mixes with your tears and can't tell what's what? That kinda crying. Every since then, I've been able to accept myself more and more. Apparently, that was the key. More than often, black men don't have the same narrative with their matriarch like I do. Sometimes, they're kicked out the house. Beat by their fathers and family members to only go outside and be beat up by society. Do you think people would really CHOOSE this for themselves? I locked myself inside of my body for years. I faced self-hate, suicidal thoughts and never feeling real brotherhood from my community. People don't understand the pain, the solitude you endure because you don't want to lose your family, your friends, your community. No one is asking you to march in the Pride parade. But what we do ask is that you remember that we deserve the same love that you do: that unconditional love. Young black man dealing with your sexuality: when no tells you they love you, it's okay. I love you. God loves you even when they say God doesn't. I was told God would never bless me because of my sexuality. Not only did he bless me with the gift of music but God used that gift to get me on a Spike Lee soundtrack and featured in the film. It's afforded me performance opportunities in places and establishments you wouldn't believe I performed at. Don't let your sexuality stop you. Don't let it consume you. You are more than a sexual escapade. You are more than the faggot everyone is calling you. You are a man a purpose, a man of valor, a man of strength. Hold your head high, you the shit! If you, brother or sister, ever need to talk, I'm here for you. For real.
Years of running and hiding. Not anymore. Too many of my brothers and sisters are suffering in silence. I love you. If you need me, Iâm here for you.Â
The most trusted voice in music.
FRANKIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIE!!!!
The most trusted voice in music.
DEV IS BAAAAACK!!!! Totally missed him since 2013â˛s Cupid Deluxe, successful songwriting for Sky Ferriera and touring like a madman. Freetown Sound was a pleasant surprise and kinda dropped out of the black weirdo sky. Check out his FADER article, one of the most personal interviews yet. Freetown Sound available now via Domino/Terrible Records.
âCongrats on risking absolutely nothing to be yourself!!! #HeterosexualPrideDay https://t.co/xWZ2WnGpQCâ

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Jesse Williams BET speech accepting the Humanitarian Awards
âPeace. Peace. Thank you Debra. Thank you, Nate Parker. Thank you, Harry and Debbie Allen, for participating in that. Before we get into it, I just want to say I brought my parents out tonight â I just want to thank them for being here and teaching me to focus on comprehension over career. They made sure I learned what the schools were afraid to teach us. And also, thank you to my amazing wife for changing my life.
Now, this award, this is not for me. This is for the real organizers all over the country. The activists, the civil rights attorneys, the struggling parents, the families, the teachers, the students that are realizing that a system built to divide and impoverish and destroy us cannot stand if we do. Alright? Itâs kind of basic mathematics. The more we learn about who we are and how we got here, the more we will mobilize.
Now, this is also in particular for the black women in particular who have spent their lifetimes dedicated to nurturing everyone before themselves. We can and will do better for you.
Now, what weâve been doing is looking at the data and we know that police somehow manage to deescalate, disarm and not kill white people every day. So whatâs going to happen is weâre going to have equal rights and justice in our own country or we will restructure their function in ours.
Now, [standing ovation] I got more, yâall.
Yesterday would have been young Tamir Riceâs 14th birthday. So, I donât want to hear anymore about how far weâve come when paid public servants can pull a drive by on a 12-year-old playing alone in a park in broad daylight, killing him on television and then going home to make a sandwich.
Tell Rekia Boyd how itâs so much better to live in 2012, than it is to live in 1612 or 1712. Tell that to Eric Garner. Tell that to Sandra Bland. Tell that to Darrien Hunt.
Now, the thing is tho, all of us in here getting money that alone isnât going to stop this. Alright? Now dedicating our lives to getting money just to give it right back. To put someoneâs brand on our body when we spent centuries praying with brands on our bodies and now we pray to get paid with brands for our bodies. There has been no war that we have not fought and died on the front lines of. There has been no job we havenât done. Thereâs no tax they havenât levied against us. And we pay all of them. But freedom is somehow always conditional here. Youâre free, they keep telling us, but she would have been alive if she hadnât acted so free.
Now, freedom is always coming in the hereafter but, you know what though, the hereafter is a hustle. We want it now. And letâs get a couple of things straight here, just a little sidenote. The burden of the brutalized is not to comfort the bystander. Thatâs not our job. Alright, stop with all that. If you have a critique for the resistance, for our resistance, then you better have an established record of critique of our oppression. If you have no interest in equal rights for black people, then do not make suggestions to those who do. Sit down.
Weâve been floating this country on credit for centuries, yo. And weâre done watching, and waiting while this invention called whiteness uses and abuses us. Burying black people out of sight and out of mind, while extracting our culture, our dollars, our entertainment like oil â black gold. Ghettoizing and demeaning our creations then stealing them. Gentrifying our genius and then trying us on like costumes before discarding our bodies like rinds of strange fruit. The thing is tho, the thing is, that just because weâre magic doesnât mean weâre not real. Thank you.â
Brother Jesse, I salute you.
Ismael shows us the benefits of vitamin A through his eyes.
Dedicated to the lives lost in the Pulse nightclub shooting in Orlando, FL. I hope you all like it. Pardon the quality but I couldnât wait to get to a studio. Iâm too hurt. Iâm too angry. I recorded this on a multi-track recorder app on my cell phone. I will be re-recording it and releasing it on the next mixtape. We miss and love you all.
https://theizm.bandcamp.com/track/energy-revisited
Ro James debut album 'ELDORADO' Available Now! Get it on: Apple Music: http://smarturl.it/iELDORADO?IQid=yt Listen on Spotify: http://smarturl.it/sELDORADO?I...
@rojamesxix heard my cry and delivered an alternative R&B Godsend with ELDORADO. Now available on iTunes, Spotify, etc. Support black music.
Idot3: UNICORN VOMIT
Peace fam,
Damn itâs been a minute. Missed yâall. UNICORN: feeling like a mythical beautiful creature that no one believes exist but in fact, there are good, kind-hearted and loving people left in the world. VOMIT: represents the un-policed, stream of consciousness thoughts that I turned into poems. Things that were on my mind and on my heart. I just had to let the pain go.
UNICORN VOMIT, the first project of new music in 3 years, fell into my lap. Was it planned? No. Was doing a spoken word project something Iâve always wanted to do? Yes. But I was in the middle of recording The Plight of the Centaur and my focus was on that. It was hard finding somewhere to record and consistent engineers and I began to give up. Then, Prince was taken from us. And it hit me that I wasnât living up to my potential. I was hiding behind the beats instead of using them as my platform. I didnât want to speak my truth and be judged or disrespected. But if Prince can go decades being the brunt of homophobic jokes and still captivate audiences, what the hell is my problem? UNICORN VOMIT ended up being therapy when it was supposed to be an interlude between the release of The Plight of the Centaur. The more I devoted time to bring it to fruition, the more I began to put my reality into it. At first, it was all âYaaaaasssss IZMâ and now itâs âAwwwwww shit IZM what have you gotten yourself into?â I remember being told âDonât talk about (this)â and âDonât talk about (that). Itâll keep you from reaching more people. The less people know the better.â In this day and age where all you have to do is Google someone or something, nothing is sacred anymore. Not albums, pregnancies, marriages, divorces. Nothing is private. I am in charge of what people hear and see and I will use that to my advantage.
If it makes you uncomfortable, good. If it pushes you to heal, even better. If it ignites conversation between brothers and sisters, POPPIN! If I have to be the sacrifice in order for my people to heal and have healthier platonic and romantic relationships, so be it. The hurt will continue to hurt others until they realize that healing themselves is the starting point. This is not about male, female, straight or gay or cis-gendered. This is about letting go of the pain and not using it as a crutch to remain angry and bitter and hurt other people because youâve been hurt. The vicious cycle of avenging the heartâs ache creates even more damaged people down the line. Quit while youâre ahead. You deserve to be respected and loved and treated like a human being. You are not what you can do for someone monetarily or sexually. You have real emotions. You have real feelings. And itâs okay to cry brother. Itâs okay to let out that pain sister. Donât let society and other people tell you otherwise. Iâmma tell you how Spike Lee told me: Fuck em.
I planned on releasing UNICORN VOMIT tomorrow but I want it mastered and Iâm having trouble learning it from scratch. I promise to release something tomorrow but give me another week. I promise. Love always, IZM. P.S. The Plight of the Centaur will be out Summer/Fall 2016. RTV1 in 2017.

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My jungle lady @jillonce slaying! I almost missed their set at Afropunk. As soon as I got past security, I heard "Jungle Lady" and took off like a black man running from the cops. They bought out Marky Ramone from The Ramones and did two covers. A constant reminder of chasing my own dream. Thank you Jill and Lucas. Peace and light, A fan.
AFROPUNK: The greatest show on Earth.