Paints Poems NYC

"It's understood Hollywood sells Californication." New in town? Welcome to the SUCTION. A place where well practiced eyes detect seduction and it's illusory gaze. Count the ways dreams perish for not keeping a crooked eye on the posers coming up fast, don't sweat'em they never last. Dues are paid not bought. To a few the game is taught yet some are caught abusing the art of name droppin' and vein poppin' like the boys in the back of the bus of train spottin'. The foolish partake to penetrate private pools and probably promised they produced intellectual property and serial projects, you can't find it when you're blinded by material objects. Cleveland. The place. I earned my stripes & I'm far from home in a place where there's no map so how can you walk and not be lost? My best friend OD'd on E before he even got to floss. Focused I aimed a camera and shot my boss on the block they cop the sauce. Fuuuck, man... I stare up at the clouds knowing I'm not the boss... In the land of smoke and mirrors haters know me as "The ruin of many" doubt if ANY are dope enough to raise your vein, illusions freak your mind and made Chris an Angel like David Blaine religious zealots praise the name with Jagged thoughts that graze the brain, I remain insane. My name-plate's so big it displays the chain - I changed the game that's my claim to fame I got bored'a hip hop cause it stayed the same... God fearin', I got problems, mouth on a toothpick I'm too slick for robbin, Batman - you and me are the same - depression steals the flame ain't it fucked up when you shift gears and shit feels the same? How real's the game? Punished from pushing predicaments past perilous paths, you do the math. No known antidote exists for the poisonous darts filmmakers dodge - in Los Angeles the scandalous handle this swift and left stains like a vandal's kiss lusting listening to dynamite candle's hiss. Some indulge in destructive behavior. Lonley at home alone sittin' in the dark killin' a case'a beers wondering if their time in the struggle was a waste of years... The taste of tears is fucking with you because you can't face your fears. I got out of the slippery crab barrel if ya know what I mean - critical conditioning like a pro on a team blowing that green it's all for show on the scene to get a show on the screen. First generation B-Boy, check the course load... 4:20 on the I dot when I dash like morse code..My back got perforated by shots now I'm addicted to pain killers and auras of conjugated thoughts - known since fo' I was grown to twist complicated plots - don't trip, only a few came close to connecting the dots. The last clown beefing with me turned Vegan and moved back to his Mom's house. Wanna know his name? Na, that's part of the game. Dealers play their cards smart. Makin' long stories short is still the hard part. What you do or drive doesn't fascinate me, only what you do passionatley, fashionably... sexy smokey lyin' eyes don't interest me. Ok, maybe a little. I love meeting people dedicated to being "a great work in progress". I know from surviving a plane crash like Dame Dash life as you know it can be taken away like an insane flash. The most difficult and rewarding work is work we do on ourselves. Fair ones? I shot a few. Real Friends? I got a few, they keep me grounded. Fist pounded. I'm fortunate to have the kind I can laugh with and learn from. Respect. Go'on'n earn some and get in the Guild. I'm attracted to any artist's project that shatters the unconsiousness. Always down to meet people who give themselves to the work; actors, poets, filmmakers, musicians, models, illustrators, chefs, architects, extreme sport athletes, reflexologists, and Tantras. A linguist; I'm turned on by the scents and secrets of new cultures, ill tracks, and passionate dancing. Love is a beautiful thing. How many times can you say you've given such a gift wanting nothing in return? Time is so precious. Savor it and play HARD like recess when you were a kid. Remember how you used to run and feel the wind in your ears? Told ya to stop sweatin' the small stuff. This year, after I book my next gig, its Vancouver, Amsterdam and Brazil.Favorite candy? Twizzlers. Books? Fiction, Science Fiction, geopolitical, erotic thrillers and biographies. Magazines? Architectural Digest, Vanity Fair, Sight & Sound, Conde Nast, The Source, Arena, Vibe, XXL, GQ, Esquire, Fader, Cargo, and JUGGS! LOL!!!If music has changed your life, then you have more than one excellent story. Please share. I played the violin as a kid, and became fascinated by hip-hop in it's nascant form. You got rhymes? Let's battle for money. Armed with a camera, I toured with the Boo Yaa Tribe in the South Pacific. The experience changed my life. So much so, that I formed a band called Filmore Slim. Swaggered after the coolest Pimp in Frisco, we set out to contribute to the downtempo basement freestyle sound. I am Hip Hop, and you are too if you know who coined that phrase...after a short, interesting run, my Filmore Slim bandmates and I separated in 2006 to focus on film, but like Dan and John say "We're putting the band back together"... haha maybe one day when I find a bass player as good as my boy Nate who now resides in Brooklyn.I come from an artistic family; my Mother (a gifted student creative writing teacher) designs apparel. My Father is a hustler's hustler, an international entrepeneur who still makes my Mom breakfast in bed and dances like Bill Cosby, in Bill Cosby Coogi sweaters! My brother KRS is my partner in filmmaking. He has a very 'unique' sense of humor. If you can make him laugh, no, I mean really bust out rollin', instead of a cheap grin, I'll give you $50 dollars on the spot. I'll write more later, this thing is addictive and makin' me feel like a fiend...If you've read this much about me, you can't have ADD, so check out the site www.shadowboxercinema.com lemmie know what you think....