WP v Tic Tac, Jan 10

Just digging through the archives...you may notice some recycled lines from other battles that I thought were appropriate for the time but enjoy nonetheless...

WP

Some peeps think we doin spoken word/some loud mouths makin hip hop look bad/toddler MCs still on lyrical diapers/makin it rain n we still got wipers/if u spoil for a fight u gon get a bite from this viper/since the time of birth your breath sucks/so your ma would give u breast milk n tic tacs/but u still kept howlin like wolves matin in packs/not being content with your miserable life/don't mean u come bug me with a 9-to-five/hey Mr tic tac toe/u too weak to b my foe/u beta collabo wit malayaa/n solicit 4 rhyme from flexx and mariah/u beta turn down ur mic bro/its kul that u stil mr tic tac toe/face me again n you'll b Mr tic tac ho/to your superior u beta bow down low/and b MIA lyk form 16A/your too old for ths dance/your lyk a condom, only used once/n now that you've spoilt your chance/in this game you've scored an F/youz a lost one/a prodigal son/so kneel down n pray for your sins/throw ur rhymes down da trash bins/look in da mirror man/look at the creative error you've become/youre like superman with a kryptonite vest/you've drawn a double C on your chest/and that prob means u a double casualty/of my retributive justice penalty/an eye for an eye a tooth for a tooth/so don't step back into that studio booth/youve done your piece so rest in peace!

Tic Tac

time up?? i advice to check ur time
better yet check ur rymes
like good wine i get better with time
in ma 20s and already am ahead of ma time
i might need some batteries like that clock
on ur wall then watch me tic then tac
i dont stop bro am on the addict
always on top of the game ask ma connect
u can give it up and u might gain ma respect
im flava flav on this shi.t and yo`ll them bit.che.s
fighting for ma attention some for ma erection
lets see who gets the clock and who gets the coc.k
next time u see it go tic ...then tac think about that.

WP

Ive checked my time n its a quater to three/thanks to ur rhyme uve started World War 3/This is Vietnam and am laced with napalm/and bio weapons full of all kinds of disease/hand on the trigger ready to blow to a thousand degrees/if i die am taking the whole world with me/a f.ckn Kamikaze/force feeding you memories of Hiroshima and Nagasaki/bringing back the love sounds of clinton and Lewinski/Take u back to Russia before Putin/welcome to my time machine/leme take u back to post number 117/signed your own death warrant so it seems/ i'l feed on ur lines so much u wont afford a can of baked beans/ul hate me so much that ul pawn ur flava flav clock/ul get the Mexican gun and turn off the safety lock/but al be right here in this very spot/coz theas no way ur limp d.ck will reach my G spot/call for backup coz ur stuck in a phonebooth like colin farrel/and if ur gun dont kill u first then u gon get some from my double barrel/no more sand on the hourglass/and uve still not gotten ur backstage pass. . .BLAW!

Tic Tac

heard the drum rolling
time for war i be arm sleeves rolling
we already won in vietnam
we`ll also take iraq i bet you a dime
my guns fully loaded and am ready to squeez
like a flu when i step in the room everybody sneez
ill bless yo`ll with the tips got enuff clips
at your service and you aint gotta say please
go head steal a few lines ill go ahead and steal a few lives
5billion already in the world we can do without one more sucker
head to the hills no go ahead and kneel ask 4 forgiveness 4 being a sucker
thought you were reall only to find out you just another mathafaka
crying for attention i call for your detention
tic tac is on the air check your local station
am on like the television bring it on
hope u brought your remote controll
as i sit back and enjoy the ride am on cruise controll.
tic tac is all about the tactics you diggggggg!!!!

WP

Haha look what the dogs brought in/its tic tac again but this the last nail on ur coffin/this time u gon loose all ur teeth/all this time i bin f.ckn u with a sheath/but now its time for flesh on metal/uz a virgin n u gon lose all ur petals/to put an end to all this whinin/please say goodbye to ur hymen/yea ama do this b.tch when he under code red/leave u screamin YES lyk a newly wed/afta am done the graves gon be ur bed/aha uz a eunuch with a voice lyk pavarotti/afta i had ur balls for lunch along with spaghetti/stop singin coz am havin thots of using this machete/on ur hose pipe that doubles as an ass wipe (hehehehehe waaa OK)/better raise the white flag at least for ur mum/coz my troops hav u under siege lyk the bush of sadaam/ready to spray u out before u can say aleikum salaam/i hear u spreadn sh.t that u won in vietnam/but who cares dog/whether ur new name be viet kong or king kong/to me ur still an ape needin protection from my alter ego/wear ur bullet proof vest n call wells fargo/if u dont wana get a taste of my hollow tips/count ur blessings boy/coz i know u just a decoy/tell ur boss that am the new mayor/the key to the city plus am f.ckn buffy the vampire slayer/av got more blue chips than the company u started/to pirate my stuff for repackage/Am Rocky n u Mr T/thats why nobody can buy ur lines even if they were free/R. . ./I. . ./P. . .hehehehe ur gone maze. . .goooone!

Tic Tac

tactics is the game tic tac is the name
i spit 16 like no other the flow`s so insane
ill be slow on you bro dont stress
no homo but your nuts i will-press
got some nutt cracker am all over the press
heard they call yu wanker ill toss you all over the fence
many have come and gone
am still here ma shi.t fresh like a new born
say hi to them when you get there
preach the gospel that am still here
thier best shots were ma ryme dust
told u ill be slow i wount even ryme fast
u got reason to be tense cause your soon to be past.

WP

Instead of choosing to die lyk a soldier with honour/u want me to rip u up n leave u rotting in the corner/maybe ur just a common theif/al bring an end to all this senseless mischeif/u know, put an end to all ur misery/and a liftime of endless bigotry/uz a serious clown and for that ama put u down/u heard that am a wanker?/thats coz your ears lisp n ur tongue is deaf/so corrupted that for u no help, most def/am the all terrain number one tanker/be it in the rain or in sri lanka/al blow u back to 1960/so u can jig along to Elvis Presly/coz hip hop is one hot plate/not the kind of sh.t to go with on a blind date/so if ur shoes are off and u got no shades on/for ur own good just stick to d.ck transplants in Saigon/n leave it for the big boys to take hip sh.t head on/we cant wait for u to get over ur self pity/or for ur gal to get at least one firm titty/you so far behind i cant see u on my rearview/if u need extra lines mine are pay-per-view/so my advice to u is to start life anew/an all new season two/as a janitor wipin da floor/or as my chauffer,please open the door/coz i are wot i say i are/yea am a superstar/and i got no fear that the crowds wont cheer/course al send Santa down with his reindeer/to drop you one or two of them cold beers/coz i still respect those who were not my peers/this should be ur last thread/now stick to unleavend bread/ur delilah fi shave off ur junior dreads/and by now u cant feel yourself anymore/thats coz ur dead n u dont even know. . .

End Game - Restart [Y] Quit [N]

"Look"...
"Look at her," he say "Look at how she built to turn heads"
Damn Tush so fine, this time Weezy better call them Feds"
Emergency it is, his attention is not at ease
'Cause her walk-dance, something like Herodias' daughter's
Demands nothing less than his head on a silver platter
Its not a simple matter, heart's lost its pitter patter
To wet dreams of parting the Red Sea, and setting his slave ego free
Thanks to the wiles of his blood flowed stiff staff
But like most he didn't read bout how we killed Afro's Puff
His vocal chords are now bent on the wrong end of a U-tube
Phonetically pressurized to vent the rest of "I love you too"
No escape even if his lawyers are Alan Shore and Eli Stone
Ain't no rescinding contracts yet she let you score the bone


* * *

Do you see the sign when she say you need communication skills?
About turn, You dint read that right, it say communication kills
How many times have you been told to use the rear view?
Its what they don't say that you should pay attention to
The CCK don't say K-Y on socks could save lives
The ECK dint say Vaseline on votes could end lives
Now we talking of ripped rubber post-erection
Then twas flipped numbers post-election
Unready parents chant in pro-abortion protest marches
Already parents burnt in commotioned protestant churches
Either way its great grandmothers breastfeeding little kids
And great land grabbers shredding our legal title deeds
The Curse trickles down the fickle strands of DNA
To ice cold corpses who did not ask to be born again
In this transaction there's more to lose an less to gain

* * *
Funny..
Funny how quick we can move away from those we can't stand
Jig around beggars with jiggers on they feet, so sore that all they do is sit
On the same streets leading to places that we meet to eat
Feeding on our gulity conscience, but we are no better full of ignocence
Ignorant and innocent, we cheer Honorable beggars who drive big cars and do legislation
They come with all sorts of fruity names, you'd think twas the Derby or Grand National
Life's a gamble but you placed your bet not on the horse but the jockey
Dint you hear that if wishes were horses then beggars would ride?
There goes your beggar on horseback, riding in to the sunrise
Yet the Tiananmen Man stands alone, against the myriad tanks
Ready to crush him to Elephant Man, and he doesn't mind the task
And after that he will still have to hide his scarred face behind a mask
My form may be a tad bit odd, my clothes a slight bit wrong
But blaming me is blaming God, for I have done no wrong

* * *
Heart pumping lead from the bullets fired by the gun Cupid hired
And water drank out the pipes that the government quickly wired
Tastes bile bitter, you'd think Victory sweet was shameful defeat
New Life dug its own grave six feet and took the hopeful with it
How can you dare appeal a death row suit that you've won
'cause you see the Devil at the door with a suit that you already wore?
And she now sound like Jackie Brown on the plane going "ho revoir"
How he wish that they first French kiss was a last goodbye
A last goodbye...
Goodbye...

Of Swine, Rhino & Other Stories - Part Two

[ Continued from Part One ]
Without warning, Beth Mugo just comes up on TV to tell me that the dreaded bird flu had finally landed in Kenya, nay let me be more precise, in Kisumu courtesy of another of them i missionary types who had come "to touch very many children's lives here in Kenia. . ." Wait a minute! Where had I heard that phrase before?? That Nazi dude who was prying into my business at thew cyber on Sunday!!! I was livid, mad I tell you! That punk, that no good, two timing over interested son of Hitler's bootstrap had infected me with H1N1.... I mean, what else could explain the state I was in??? As the press conference went on, my mom was giving me the "I think this kid is infected" kind of look. Beth Mugo wasn't helping either:

Its just a MILD flu...hata HAIJAUWA watu wengi!

Just like Nyambura, the special relationship between "mild" and "haijauwa watu wengi" did not escape my ears. Mild things are not supposed to be fatal unless its the arsenic your second wife dropped into your wine after you had agreed to sign a new pre-nupt that recognised her flexibility in bed as opposed to that of Mama John.You can just imagine how xenophobic I felt, but not like the boda boda peeps who I have heard were contemplating upping the transport charge for tourists as insurance in case one of them sneezed with malicious intent to infect. It was decided by everybody that I should book a session with an uncle of mine who happens to be the only, if not, then the best Consultant E.N.T Surgeon in Kisumu, a pretty good one at that, but of late he had developed a sadistic strain in his psyche. Most probably he was still bitter about the post-election violence saga when looters (some of them his own patients) caused a fire that gutted a building where his clinic was located. But that's vybe for another day... I spent the night IMing my shrink and drowning my fears in Mama's blog.

The next day, I called him up when in he was in one of them foul moods, and no matter what I said, he insisted that we should meet at the "plaza" instead of at the "clinic". Let me explain the technical terms. You see, just like every other exploitative extended family blessed to have doctors amongst us, we preferred to consult our doctor at a more informal set up where we would not have to pay consultancy fees or wait in line. So the "clinic in our terms was the passenger seat of his RAV4 which he usually parked at the Nakumatt Nyanza lot. The "plaza" was Aga Khan Hospital, where he had shifted base after the demise of his clinic. The catch was that at Aga Khan, some busy body had decided to include the instruction "GIVE PRIORITY TO INJECTIONS, NOT CONSISTENT IN UNSUPERVISED ORAL MEDICATION" in the Special Information section of my records. I suspect it must have gotten there when I was admitted at the kids' ward and boy, did I give the nurses hell. But that was a long time ago!!!! What it is still doing there is a mystery to me, but the docs take it as the gospel truth. C'mon, I don't like pills! Am a good boy! So i headed for Aga Khan, hoping I will not bump into the Nurse that "put me in my place" during my admission. Nine times out of ten, if at all I had to be injected, she would be the one to show up with the syringe and needle in hand. And what HUGE hands she had.
Her fingers alone could make you feel that somehow you had entered a TV set that was screening The XYZ Show yani, kebab huge! That is why i preferred the "clinic" to the "plaza". I mean, there was no way Dr. Willpress's Uncle could be caught dead with a needle in his hand outside his car, a naked butt peeping out of the passenger door and that song that goes like "Am not a qualified physician.." blasting on the stereo all in the name of administering and injection!

When I got there the waiting list was huge and I was contemplating rushing in and shouting "I HAVE SWINE FLU!!!!" but given the reaction to a similar stunt at AAR earlier in the week, I figured not even the Doctors would remain behind to tend to my selfishness. Luckily, Dear Uncle detected my presence by use of his very rare extended-family-telepathy-thingy-that-I-can't-explain and I was ushered into his office leaving the rest of the patients looking at me like a matatu driver who has ignored a police check at very slow speed. i noticed he had on his face mask throughout the time...I guess he had a lot of Nazi looking patients booking in that day. We went through the usual motions of the checkup, a procedure I cannot replicate due to doctor-patient confidentiality. The he sat back in his chair and did a three-quarter turn left then right, right then left, contemplating how to break down the diagnosis to me which seemed very very bad. Finally he spoke:

"William, you have what is called RHINOSINUSITIS.."

"Rhino-what???????"

The things that were running through my head! Rhino-what the fuck? What was he trying to tell me? That there was a new type of flu out already? Rhino Flu??? Me? Rhino flu? Even if its being a mshamba let me confess to you dear reader that i have seen very few rhinos in my time, hence what I would be doing with a sickness starting with Rhino- didn't make any sense at all!

"Rhinosinusitis. A very potent strain of sinuses irritation..."

Phew, thank God for small mercies...

"What makes it different from the normal sinuses thingy that I have?"

"Well, if not treated well and quickly, it can lead to loss of the sense of smell - anosmia."

Oh, very few things in the world still smelled good nowadays, so I don't think that would have been such a big loss. But it would be nice to know if your walking with someone smelling like a lorry load of spoilt tuna, though. At least it was nothing to do with birds. So happy was I that I hardly noticed when I dropped me trousers for yet another injection. And it felt REALLY GOOD as the possibility of being holed up with some tourists, marooned and quarantined left as that needle super poked my ass. OH YEAH!!

There couldn't have been a better song to be playing on the jav home than Night Nurse Gregory Isaacs, and I closed my eyes, head bopping to the bassline:

I don't wanna see no doc
I need attendance from my nurse around the clock
'Cause there's no prescription for me
She's the one, the only remedy

Night nurse
Only you alone can quench this Jah thirst
My night nurse
Oh the pain it's getting wo-

I jolted myself awake. I felt as though my right hand jean pocket had bulged suddenly, wtf!!! And its not what you think gutterheads. I reacted out of reflex, reaching out fast to whatever this was. Alas! A hand, that's what it was! Very very soft to the touch too...My eyes travelled up from where this hand projected up the arm that owned the hand, elbow that had seen many a Vaseline application, given to how it looked fresh...up to the shoulders and to the face that owned the hand. She looked back at me as if in defiance. A young face, very striking features, quite a beauty, she would have reminded my dad of my mum in their heydays instantly! Despite the fact that I knew full well that I had caught this dame in the act of attempting to rob me, something in me couldn't help but think otherwise. I mean, lets look at the material facts. My wallet was in the other pocket and she reached in my pockets with such gusto that pickpockets don't posses. Then why was her hand in my pocket?? could it be that she was feeling sufficiently charitable, sufficiently philanthropic that day until she decided I was the worthy candidate of a hand job?? Lol,I held her hand in a G-clamp grip, contemplating what to do. Was I to tell her to continued what I thought she'd started? The Father Kizito in me was almost persuading me to take that course ( she was a kid looked a few months shy of eighteen, but the signs of blooming, were there, don't ask me how I knew)...but then I noticed the Mama sitting with us on the back seat had been watching us, from what point she noticed the odd situation I don't know. She must have figured we were a couple of pervs who couldn't wait to "get a room" plus she looked like one of those women of the Church. Luckily for me The mat reached my stop and I was only glad to alight instead of being branded a paedophile and Lord Knows what next. I was a bit dissapointed that I had failed to solve the 'hand job" mystery but, sigh, that's a story for another day...

. . . . . o0o . . . .

Soundtrack

Gully Creeper - Elephant Man
Insane - Eminem
Insomnia - RZA feat. Bobby Digital & Jay Love
Night Nurse - Gregory Isaacs
The Needle - Dr. Ring Ding

Of Swine, Rhino & Other Stories - Part One

Last week according to WP was legendarily eventful. Eventful to such an extent that it will not escape mention on this here internet. I don't even know where to start. Ah, Okay, fast rewind to the other Sunday when I'd just discovered a cyber-cum-restaurant with excellent bandwidth and a very ignorant staff - perfect recipe for a Kenyan like me who loves everything that comes free. Catch is, the place is mainly frequented by some very chatty tourists who think every other black man (can't believe am using this term about a place in Kenya) who walks into the place works there. I didn't mind that coz that would actually give me a chance to be rude to someone. Nothing beats a snotty reply to tourists and salespeople, but that's vybe for another day.

So there I am minding my own business, inserting HUGE torrent files for download in their network and what not then this very funny looking tourist at the comp next to mine tilts his head and bends into my private space, attempting quite lamely to start a conversation:

"So you're a blogger too?"

"Hmm?"

"I see your on Blogger. What do you blog about?"

I had half the mind to tell him, I blog about Al Shabaab and Lucy Kibaki.

"Umm nothing much.. "

"Well I've just started a blog for my charity organisation that aims to touch very many children's lives here in Kenia. . ."


That last bit about "touching children" or their lives startled me a bit and the more I eyed this man, the more he began to resemble what Fr. Kizito may have looked like at 30. Brr! Maybe I was just seeing things... Before we could exchange URLs, and my curiosity awakened to spying on this dude, a dark, very blessed [and I mean B.L.E.S.S.E.D] probably Luo mamskilz showed up from nowhere and sat on his lap, cooing sweet nothings in what sounded like German, giving me the chance to sneak off. At least it wasn't Italian. You see, I have beef with Italian men. They have completely taken over the sexual niche in this country. Their studs nab our Luo ladies. Italian CEOs on holiday are seen with many a Kikuyu woman while many a man has lost his coastal girl to an Italian pensioner. Then now Italian priests pouncing on our little kids? What now? Its almost like to get laid in this country, guys better acquire Italian names . Thank goodness for the Champions League and Serie A... I already have a few name ideas. Don't pick Materazzi though. Ain't he the one who Zidane headbutted in '08? So probably the modern translation of the name is "he who gets head from a man." But that's a story for another day.

Later that day, I began a journey through a terrible illness that I'd never experienced before. First a sore throat, then a mild fever, slight headache, all ushering the problem of problems : my nose. One of my most sensitive spot is my nose, that I personally and fondly refer to as my N-spot. Its sensitivity is only evident when my sinuses get irritated. Thereafter, the above symptoms set in and I cannot bend beyond 90degrees coz of the crazy pain around the eyes. Even if by some misfortune I find myself in Buckingham Palace at that state, I wouldn't dare bow before Her Majesty.

So I was quick to diagnose the current condition as sinuses but with time I began to doubt myself. It was slowly progressing from a nasal case to a mental case. First came the severe mood swings. I was bitching like late blooming woman with a tampon deficiency. When it was anger, it was served from the pits of hell. The sarcasm from this here tongue would have made Oscar Wilde very proud. I was in one of those states where I wished I was in those perfect fairytale Cuandos seasmic kind of relationships so that I can break it off just to SAMBAZA THE PAIN!!! I found Popcorn TV more amusing than usual. I had a "special connection" with it that was close to sadistically erotic. Especially the Crazy Boys segment where these guys go to a shop and run off with things in the trolley without paying. They were my heroes for that period. They did things that deep down, I wanted to do but the Kenya Police would not let me. Heck, even if it was a legitimate Punk'd show, the cops have been taught to put two and two together. .in that autistic kind of way. .to get 22. So Man with trolley running away = SUSPECT. Man chasing Man with trolley = ANOTHER SUSPECT. And Men Filming incident from Hidden Location = ACCOMPLICES. And you know that the Kenya Police shoot suspects 9 times while the accomplices are clobbered, rounded up and shot somewhere at a roundabout next to the police station. But that's a story for next week. . .

It was like some other entity was living inside my nose. . An evil imp, pulling at every nerve ending it could get just to piss me off. I couldn't even have my. .erm. .private thoughts without the feeling that the bastard was invading my space. Whatever it was, it must have read Pinocchio coz every time I said a half truth or lied, it would set my nose running for a few ... and when my sense of smell diminished, the other four got sharper and I could even hear the folks discussing the sanity of their son three walls away. I even started seeing strange objects and shadowy figures doing the gully creeper around the compound in the dead of the night ( I suggest you watch an episode of Xtreme if you don't know what the gully creeper is about), never mind the fact that it was the same period when a group of thugs robbed the entire neighbourhood and escaped unnoticed. But that, dear blogren, is yet another story not for this moment...