Young Hip Hop music by the rap-Traffaut, Sam Farhi

11 MP3 Songs
HIP HOP/RAP: Hip Hop, HIP HOP/RAP: Rap



Details:
Biography coming soon...
Untill then...

Sam Farhi's street Shakespearean poem noir,

ADORE FORWARD

I.
Sasha, a romancer, a dancer, imposter,
Who danced on dark stages for moonlit monsters
Who romanced Adore's pages with whispers and proverbs,
Drew lines in the air with her curled toes and postures

Singing twisting flowers on their head 'till they snapped
And when young squires and punks in the front didn't react
She'd retire her blonde strands to land on her back
Then on wood she would arch her curves cushioned with fat

And at last the men in the front would rise and clap
Their eyes dragged on the back of her thighs, at that
Adore would laugh as he sat in the back,
"These pompous monsters can't take what I have"

Her mouth opened in awe when Adore played her somethin'
See he pressed on her frets and plucked on her buttons
To the rythm of black street singers shoe shufflin'
She shuffled and shook, hushed and then singin' him nothin'

II.
The city scape, the oranger skies, and the black trees painted on âem
The lines that try anâ block His shine all fall off their branches rotten,
No roots can hold âem up that high if they refuse what theyâve gotten,
All reflectinâ the face of Him with itâs softness long forgotten,

A soul, a love, a mind and eye, mirrorinâ their neighbors watchinâ
Sasha saw âem in the sun, looked up from top taâ bottom,
Fell to the sand and diânât dance a damn step, but untied her shoe laced bondage
Ran to Adore and kicked the blood and stuffinâ from out his cotton

III.
âO please! Please! Sunshine, stop shining!
No moonlight of mine could do that kind of blinding!
O sunshine why you gotta shine so good?
Paint her frame red and then blind my look?

O please! Please! Sunshine stop shining!
I wrote too few strokes for her, fillinâ the top aâ two bindings!
Cease!â Adore leaked as he leaned back with ease
Respired, he retired, she let it shine once he breathed

IV.
Her man creeped through leaves of green, grew tangled and vined
And leaned on grey streets in between peekin' at skin of mangled wives
With four dark curves, two black circles dangled 'round each painted eye
This nightime, she spoke to Adore 'bout men cloudin' her, his sunshine

"Catastrophe! Catastrophe! Tragedy! A tragedy!" She,
Turned his head and put his ear to the sky singin' him rhapsodies, He
Caught ev'ry note that was rung from past pity cries to the city
She was an actor, he lef' her, weeping in her green sheets

V.
âNone of these bitches gonâ walk you too far,â
Said Descar as he tapped the ash off the tip his cigar,
Dustinâ âround Kansas, he came home from afar
and swept the dust off their table into an open jar,
Ajar to him, Adore sat and grinned, stared and thinked,
Winked at the woman that winked at him from
Across the bar, âNone of these bitches ever listen none,â
Said Descar, Adore didnât and paid the waitress a sum
âThey never listen, they never listen, not even one.â

VI.
Wink, And smush a pink-tint punk's face to a tough scrunched blinked skin
"Think bird, Even think bout' see'n her curves sit in that fur mink...
Blink bird!" And Delphe rinsed out her eyes from vi-lence, Since
Adore changed all their right winks wet, and left the lefts to blink

"Think If you linked the city's park sinked with a pinch of snuff,
And you saw me clink across the street in these pinked up pumps,
You wouldn't also wink Adore? If you di'n't drink enough?
Think, would I even blink Adore? Fink, what a brush of luck!"

VII.
On Monday He made Sasha seek the streets in rain for a pay phone
With no change but a nickel piece kept between her purse and chest bones
She shot where Son's set had grown and crept down Trechtown Ave. to her home
On Sunday morning she rose and hoped tonight to be in his poems



VIII.
She rose from his prose and spoke what heâd written,
Jumped from his bed, and danced for the wicked,
Wailed to the East with two tounges, one splitted
He saw thorns on this rose and did not want to pick it

So cursed be the man whoâs scared by a woman
To not take what is his when it wills to be given
So he lifted his quill and she stood still for a minute
And he wrote her prettier so the timid would listen

IX.
Put each word on her tounge, rolled each Dutch that she touched,
Pressed each key on the tusks, filled each straw that she sucked
Now a gun needed to speak to him, Adore just wiped off its dust,
And it feels fresh and confident here to bite his ears off his bust

Adore's Heart was wrapped with her tounge then dried up by snakes
That brittled and shattered at each pound that It makes
After three It beat the black gun from his hands to the paved
Floor where Adore put down the Lordâs word, and left her snake saved

X.
Before she put Descar down, she lead him up to the plank
He went on to the stage, and said âI have somethin to say,
I have somethin to say, and you will finally listen todayâ
And so he said what he said and so he lays where he lays

So he rose from the dead up to the café for his pay,
Seeing him lay there, happy, with the money he made, made
Merda stamp both of her feet on his sheets in a rage
âDance for me!â and Descar slept for the rest of all time on that day

XI.
All of the whisperers, finger pointers and meek
Must aâ stepped into the Church from right off the street
She must aâ left the crowd and then walked down La Vie,
Leafed through billed green that she threw to her feet,
Descar picked it up off his concrete sheets,
And went back to sleep and dreamed up a dream
of all the whisperers, no goods, finger pointers and weak
All marching to Church from right off the street

XII.
Adore, âA cosmopolitan metropolis, Yet still right and profitless,
Racists, mumbo's, jumbo's, still ripe, still lobbyists,
Pick each one, crack each open and see in,
See? There ainât no shelter from the showers in Eden
Look in their brains, round the corner and each lane
Each crevice, device, each pleasure, ditch, and each pain
Each corner make each turn, learn, hold out your mouth for each rain
Each ray, soak each day, squeeze, rinse and do it a-gain â

XIII.
Adore said, âKeep these white sheets!â to Sasha in bed
âKeep those roots, those stitches, keep the strings and the hems!
Let them pull you apart! Let them soak you rose red!
I see what arose in you, so keep my money instead!â
And he left, and O did she cry! Did she cry!
She tried twisting a forty. Calm, she tried kissing his eyes.
She got pushed aside, âThose red lips! Blue eyes! Her lure is His story!
I love Africa, I love Africa, I love Africa and all its glory!â