The Dead Emcee Scrolls: The Lost Teachings of Hip-Hop
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
In the underground labyrinths of New York City's subway system, beneath the third rail of a long forgotten line, Saul Williams discovered scrolls of aged yellowish-brown paper rolled tightly into a can of spray paint. His quest to decipher this mystical ancient text resulted in a primal understanding of the power hip-hop has to teach us about ourselves and the universe around us.
Now, for the first time, Saul Williams shares with the world the wonder revealed to him by the Dead Emcee Scrolls.
I have paraded as a poet for years now. In the proc ess of parading I may have actually become one, but that's another story, another book. This book is a book that I have been waiting to finish since 1995. This is the book that finished me. The story I am about to tell may sound fantastic. It may anger some of you who have followed my work. You may feel that you have come to know me over the years, and in some cases you have, but in others...well, this is a confession.
parlayed it into cold cash. NGH, you crazy! I’m ’a sick my dogs on you. This book is dedicated to those who prayed for it, who saw it before it was here, who sensed it from the beginning. This book is dedicated to the beginning. Before before and right now. This book is dedicated to the lunch table. The boom bap. I still got my 12 inch of Spoonin Rap! To all the original blueprints. I know ya heard of that! This book is dedicated to yellow caps in Lemon Heads boxes (Krak Attack!), three
paper into his hands, deciding he’d rather freestyle. You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to remain silent. And maybe you should have before your bullshit manifested. CHAPTER 25 Begin. Demystify the mummy within. If you ain’t hotep then ho step, I’ll step to your friend. Parable of the wind. Blew black through to the end. Endless nights, kicks and fights against time and her friends. Slowly day and night blend. Twilight takes
Ralph, is he talking to me?” “No I’m talking to the sea sons resurrected. I’m the solstice of the day. I bring news from the blues of the Caspian” My man laughs. “He’s one of them crazy MTHRFKRs. Turn the music back up. ’Cause I’m the E double.” “Wait, but but, I know the volume of the sea and sound waves as I will. Will you allow me to be at your service?” My man Ralph is nervous. He believes his strange tongue deceives and maybe he’s been informed that he’s pushing gats, Hidden in
emcee, but why should I? How would it benefit me? Karmic repercussions. Are your tales of reality worth their sonic-based discussions? Suddenly the ground shivers and quakes. A newborn startles and wakes. Her mother rushes to her bedside and holds her to her breast. Milk of sustenance heals and nourishes. From the depths of creation, life still flourishes. Yet, we focus on death and destruction, violence and corruption. My people, let Pharaoh go! What have you bought into? How much will it cost
4:30. It was they who told me of the sun. It was not what I expected. It only seemed to hint at light. By 6:17 I had decided what I wanted to be. At 6:18 I discovered my outer shell. At 6:19 I began the process of dying: piss, shit, and crying, crawling and not flying. At 7 o’clock my mother held me and rocked. The spinning world stopped. She sang, “You’re the one. Indivisible son of sun, ancient mystical spirit come to become our tongue….” As the rockets’ red Glare in your eyes Will you look