This past Christmas I wrote a rap inspired by the Porn Problems post I put up a year ago.

I listened to a lot of rap growing up. Starting with sneaking Lil' Bow Wow in my portable CD player on road trips, then Outkast, later Kanye. I took a long break but here and there I jump back in and discover good rap is still alive. I discovered Kendrick Lamar before Christmas and was inspired to try my own, taking one of his beats for the track. I have had a pretty cushy life though, so I couldn't find anything to write about that got me angry enough to inspire lyrics, until I thought of pornography. Oh, and I made my voice lower to sound more intense. If you haven't read my previous post called Porn Problems, here it is. Here is the rap and the lyrics below:

XXX marks the spot.

They found me defenseless.

Jumping all these fences then

Dead down in the trenches.

Doubled over, I wish I didn't feel it.

Wish I didn't do it, but I did, and now I see it 20/20.


My marbles spilling,

I pick them up. They're on the floor,

Me they ignore, and now I'm reeling.

I should have some wisdom in these molars but I'm still teething,

Still seeking.


What is the answer? Where is the higher path?

A partial lobotomy or end up under my epitaph

Too soon. Severing limbs until quadriplegic,

Numbing my senses until paralysis stops my breathing.

There'll be no fireworks, there'll be no celebration

This is the funeral of the villain: the mistakes I'm making.


So you come to me asking do I hate myself for what I've done.

Would you end it all for yourself if I just gave you a gun?

Well hunt me, shun me, run me off into the sun,

But as for me my battles done, come see my red run.

And where's your blood?

Four-hundred-ninety times,

Seems the flesh still won.


So here's my question:

Where is the line? What's really natural and what is divine?

Or when is it time to find another lens;

A rhyme or reason for this mess we're living in?

Is ignorance bliss or is knowledge supreme ?

Or are we all drifting in the same dream?

My guess is were drifting, but it's not a dream,

And we drift on the ships of the slave or free.


Would I rather live in captivity than die in freedom?

So I guess give me the gun.

My time has come,

I'm over board; who cares who won,

Or whether,

I drown weighed down by my chains or find myself tethered

To a raft that washes me ashore in foul weather.

Better found dead or a tattered haggard,

Then a living, lost, locked away, rotting, beggar.


XXX marks the spot.

They found me defenseless,

Washed up on the shore,

Alive to live as a weary witness.