Payspoogy.tot.piet.kom

I am product of my environment talented, drunk, loud and reckless I have less more to say and less to do I will sink with the Township I know I will and with no notorised Will I will leave nothing I came with nothing I am but a thing I am a product of reservation locations for blacks by British colonialists and Dutch Colonialist also known a Apartheidists I am but a thing an old tale of failure a lordless world which forgot its prayer A land that doesn't sleep I am one with the heap of disappointments And a river flowing with weep I can never be shallow I am deep Deep in trouble... My life is a piece of meat in the rubble All the stray dogs All the alley cats and rats smell it It means nothing to them And yet it means so much It's a meal after all I am product of my environment There is no environment It's inorganic and there are no cockroaches We are spotless clean in our poverty Neat as a church Dark as a Grave.

The Obsession of Sex in Hip-Hop 1 “ what are the freaks in the video for, fuck a song give me a thong, pussy galore ”- lamented rapper Black Thought about the great influence of sex in hip-hop.  “it’s loud as fuck when  you sleeping with the one that you hate”-   Rapper Tumi Molekane’s take on the instant gratification that comes with sex. You can interpret this differently and juxtapose this with the relationship that sex has with corporations. Hip Hop hates being a concubine for corporations but it also loves the money that flows from it. This love and hate relationship is even highlighted by rap moguls who have racked millions from dealing with ‘the devil’. Sex is so ubiquitous in rap music that society is even forgetting that sex has been used before to sell music, way before hip-hop was found. Thus, rap has become the black sheep of the music family. Every social-ill under the sun is attributed to the moral bankruptcy of the music. But are the detractors justifi...

Is there time to do anything on this planet? Is there time to breathe? Is there time to live? There is time to take But is there time to give Is time even supposed to be here I can’t bear being here I’m everywhere but here With sheer here fear I can’t dare take my own share of here Is there anywhere I can go here Can you hear me Is there time to do anything on this planet I just wrote But is there time to quote Is there time to hope? That we can live and elope to where our minds wanna go Is there time for anything on this planet Are all our thoughts just subjected to forces of the market ? I feel like a packet, packed and waiting to be delivered At the dream factory Is there time to do anything on this planet Is there anything to do on this earth  Bongani Spoogy Masombuka 2015

Township diaries [Weekend Clarion] The clarion of the big speakers. The call of the dancing sound. This is the most distracting thing in the entire township, you hear the sound of the big speakers as soon as you wake up. Sometimes it wakes you. Now I have been born and bred here and I always miss the sound of Saturday, the peak of the weekend every time I am out of town. It is a very distinctive feeling, the most exciting feeling of all. And the most astounding thing is that you never know the source of the sound thereof.   It just rings in your ear every morning and it does not matter the weather. Even Eskom’s periodic load shedding can’t quieten the clarion of the weekend. Another thing that you have to know about this sound is that it does not always come from taverns, bars or places of merriment for many of us in the township. This is the sound that invites the weekend to us. It could be a wedding or party taking place or it could be a street bash at a car was...

This Ghost Writer  This ghost writer is ready to write your next masterpiece. If you are a rapper and you want someone to write you sublime rhymes, then hit up:  spoogzx@gmail.com for a fee of course.

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