Love Beats Rhymes Page #4

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And that's exactly

why they stand out.

Put some real emotion into it.

Tell me how you really feel.

My feelings. Right.

'Cause that's what niggas is

tryin' to hear at the strip club?

My feelings?

I should burst into tears

in the middle of a battle.

Then maybe

I'll sell lots of records.

You're never

gonna sell any records

if you don't start putting more of

yourself into your music. Okay?

So buy a journal and a separate rhyme book.

Make sure you keep your notes.

You know what?

I'm good. Never mind.

Oh, so you're mad now?

Good. Use it.

Don't push it away.

I'm not mad.

You can't make me mad.

Okay then. So, whatever this not

mad thing you got going on,

write about it.

You should feel pain

when you write.

Listen coco, if your art doesn't

make you feel uncomfortable

then you're not going deep enough.

And that's plain and simple.

You really believe that sh*t?

I live that. Okay?

Mmm. I don't

work like that.

Rap is what I escape to.

Well,

that's your problem.

And that's the difference

between a rap and a poem.

Sea, water, body.

Moonlight.

Fresh fish flakes in my mouth.

Love's words match love's touch.

How to forget me and do you.

Let's go, sweetheart.

You can't relate

to what I'm sayin'.

Everybody leave.

Coco got big dreams.

God, hear me, please.

Thanks for meeting me here.

Okay...

Look, it doesn't

have to rhyme, you know.

Like, rhyming over a beat

is cool and things,

but you've gotta be really

careful with spoken word poetry.

It can sound a little bit cheesy.

Like Dr. Seuss.

And distracting you from what

you're really trying to say.

You just need to dig deeper.

Okay, let's try something.

Yeah?

Look out the window

and tell me what you see.

I see

the doo-doo brown river.

And some...

Rusty old bridge.

Some dirty projects.

And some big houses with a bunch

of rich people living in them.

You're looking,

but you're not seeing.

When I look out that window, I don't

see a dirty doo-doo brown river.

I see the agent of the sea.

That brings life with it.

That separates two worlds.

And that bridge?

That bridge is

the portal between them.

Where it allows people to grow

and come together and learn.

And this,

where we are right now,

this institution

houses great minds.

Scientists, lawyers,

professors, philanthropists,

and yes, poets.

This is where

rappers come to die.

So when I look at you...

I see a girl who is afraid to Pierce

that veil on a calculated cool.

What's inside might hurt her.

When you can go deep enough inside

yourself your work will be incredible.

And you know what

the best part of it all is?

It doesn't have to rhyme.

"Pick a topic you believe in.

"Something you're

passionate about..."

Miss coco Ford,

what do you have for us?

"Displacement of

low income residents.

"The poor folk, the lower

class, the impoverished.

"The blacks and the browns.

"We used to scare 'em. They

used to think us dangerous.

"Dropped heads, averted gazes.

Clutched bags.

"Walks quicken to a sprint

when we walk past.

"Or they saw us on the corner,

"god forbid we met eyes

or brushed shoulders.

"Before there was Williamsburg,

"it was the south side

and the north side.

"Before there was east

Williamsburg, it was Bushwick.

"Places they never even

thought of walking through

"before there were

white folk there.

"There were no trash cans

on our street corners.

"No yellow taxis

driving through.

"No bike racks and no dog parks.

"Even though we've always had

bikes and we always had dogs.

"And even though we some days get tired

too, we had no benches to rest on."

Mmm-hmm.

I'm amazed how amazing that was.

Well, check you out.

You nailed it.

Really?

'Cause all I heard

was, "mmm-hmm."

You kidding me? That was

the ultimate compliment.

She was digesting it.

You made her think and feel.

Excuse me.

Well, then,

I guess you broke me down.

You know what?

Why don't we go out

and celebrate or something?

Nothin' crazy, just...

A bit of food.

I got somethin' we can do.

Check out

a little bit of my world.

And what does that mean exactly?

Drop down to Killah hill 10304.

What you know about Killah hill?

Come on.

Now, get ready for

some real hip-hop.

This place is something else.

They call it the gym.

Whenever I need a workout, I come

out here and soak up all the flows.

Then afterwards,

we come up here and drink.

Do you drink?

Tip a glass or two.

Peace, peace, kid.

What's your name, man?

I'm Derek, bro.

Oh, Drake,

nice to meet you, bro.

Where you from, Derek?

Just outside London.

That explains why dude sounds

like Harry Potter. Right?

So, I mean what you into, Derek?

Uh... I'd like

to be a poet.

Nah, I mean, it...

Did I say something funny or...

Real f***in' funny, man.

I thought most rappers

consider themselves poets.

Nah, we rap and sh*t. We ain't

with that poetry, y'all.

You're a funny dude.

What the f*** was that?

Man, yo, son, you know what, son?

Definitely drew his beard in.

He drew that sh*t in.

He painted that sh*t on.

I don't like it.

Here we go, here we go.

I think I can do that.

Yo, co, co, you ready to go?

Listen, mate, she's with me.

This your new man?

He's a friend.

Friend? Yeah good, good, good.

We all need friends.

Even poets.

Come on, we got work to

catch up on, let's go.

Listen, take your hands

off her, bro.

Oh.

Yeah.

Chill out, Malik.

I'll see you tomorrow.

That's a real good idea,

I'll see you tomorrow.

Right.

Gosh.

Look at you.

I got somewhere

I wanna take you.

Back up off me, nigga. What

the f*** are you gonna do?

You better watch yourself, son.

What the f*** are you gonna do?

What you gonna do, huh?

Chill out, all right?

Chill.

What, man, what?

What, what, what?

What, what, what?

What you doin' up on

the rock, Derek? Hey.

I just am out here...

Yeah?

Coco, this here's my boy

AJ and Hassan. 'Sup?

They were in my class last year.

Are you good?

I'm good, bro, I'm good, I'm good.

You good?

See you again. All right.

Take it easy.

Was you worried about me then?

How adorable.

No. I was about to

jump in for you.

Have to save your light skin.

I am Brooklyn, sometimes.

And she is queen.

And we, we're separated by the

cemetery of sentimentality.

Totally I would take on a

relation, she gets ill with us.

The thrill with us

is the break up to make up.

Two together define,

yet unrefined and pure.

So, when I'm at her crib, I leave

my timberlands at the door.

Mint tea and a spliff and let's

hold each other on the couch.

Tellin' each other that without,

without knowledge of self,

knowledge is nothing.

I'm Brooklyn, sometimes.

And she is queen.

And she reads a book to me

about a man's invisibility. Yes,

about a man's invisibility.

But to her I am visible

and perceived with vision.

You are full of

so many surprises.

What are you looking at?

You.

You're freaking me out.

I look that bad?

You know, actually,

you don't look half bad.

It's nothing a little

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