When I wrote “F your February ” I was telling the man dem and the gal dem about what we do at the #TribeofGuruvé. Here’s an excerpt:
I wonder why I’m limited to celebrating #BlackHistory during the shortest month of the calendar? Secondly, why is my checking account relegated to the ashes because of all the unnecessary content-consumption on telly, #Wallymart superstores and #radio? Every girlfriend I’ve ever had, whether Zimbabwean, English, American, or Egyptian, exerted this pulsating pressure on me, and my little kindred spirit always caved in. Back then, I was a frail, little boy.
But now, things have slightly changed. I’m not as frail, but leader and #ChiefWarrior of a #ghostwriting collective of African Ghost Artists. The modus operandi I set upon them is to politely be a #rebel with a cause, stay classy and challenge the #statusquo – respectfully, proportionally and delicately. Part of why we don’t talk or reveal who we work for is because we are not worried about being famous. The joy we get is purely from knowing our words are HELPING OTHERS one article, one song, one music compilation or one newspaper column at a time.
I also mentioned how the physical manifests itself if you spend solitude time in the spiritual. Not only did my absolute favorite artist right now like one of my Instagram posts just the other day, but I met a dapper, clean-cut, and if I can say – a rowdy brother in the Queen City mean streets over the weekend. This encounter occurred while on my “Ghost-writing tours of Wakanda”.
I’m a bit of a Social Provocateur, so all I asked the clean-cut brother in the fitted green polo was,
“Yo, you a rapper, B?
I’m sure you can guess. He said,
“No, I’m not a rapping ass ni**a, but that dude right there – he is”.
Shocked and bewildered, I got into writing mode and did my best to strike a conversation. I definitely failed miserably at marketing my alleged ghostwriting talent, but because I used to work in a detail-oriented profession so my research and documentation skills kicked in – heavy. I asked a couple of probing questions of the crew, made some quick double taps on the gram and followed a couple of characters and then I let fate take its course.
Meanwhile, the Liverpool Charlotte mandem were not happy with me because on Saturday our beloved team was playing – but I was wearing an AC Milan jersey. Let’s not forget the recently inaugrated President of Liberia is George Weah who played for AC Milan and won the coveted Ballon D’or. Google it. I guess it’s not about what you’re wearing, but more about what is etched on the four chambers of your heart. I bleed Liverpool red and I have a rather large #YNWA #BillShankly gate tattoo on my back – which I will not be posting. You’d have to be in the #TribeofGuruvé to see it. Born during my rebirth, I realized I will “Never Walk Alone” after overcoming the loss of my spine. My spine at the time were some old friends and many other things I sadly lost in an acrimonious 30-day period a couple of years ago. Dang.
But anyway, let me introduce a brother called Burl Dollah and shout out to his crew for making this post a reality. They asked me,
“Yo, if you out here ghostwriting, show us what you do”.
“Unfortunately, you have to pay for our silence bro.”
So, here it is. This is what we ALSO do at the #TribeofGuruvé.
We bring, juice sauce and power like @AfroB_ said in his song “Juice and Power”. We also write lyrics and recently started a biweekly song review column called #UnsyndLyt.
**Honestly, I’m actually not sure if Burl Dollah is signed, but he ought to have a million dollar deal. I guess I need to research more. All I can reveal is he was so chill and so kind to me on a regular sunny Saturday afternoon. That’s golden.
More rapping brothers need to be genuine like Burl Dollah.
In the same breath, I bumped into my #PartnaDem riding his bicycle around the city with a pretty gal from Barking, London. It doesn’t matter who she really is so STOP being nosy young fella.
Nonetheless, Charlie Chaplin and I are on the same creative level and maybe – maybe you will hear our voices on our #Podcast coming soon. We just need to save some pennies and get it popping – but maybe we already started. Desus and Mero are the ballers of it all, and we’re young beginners. I guess there just aren’t too many Africans offering what we offer to the streets or to the culture and primarily for the gal dem and man dem.
I mean Black Panther just came out and if you’re not inspired – I don’t know man. We’ve been anticipating Black Panther for centuries. At least my ancestors have been waiting on Afro-Futurism. Marvel gave it us, so now we are marching on to the promised land of Wakanda. Shoutout to @ChadwickBoseman for confirming some things I wasn’t sure about being a real Wakanda Warrior. Anyway.
Listen to this song:
I bet you didn’t know him before you opened this page. If you did that’s cool, but if not, you’re welcome.
Honestly, sometimes I talk too much, but I bet you didn’t know I write even more. For now I’m just going to take a step back, chill and shut up. Burl Dollah is the truth, man. He spits rapidly, clearly and is comfortable in his own skin like a slithering black mamba. In Zimbabwe we call this venomous snake the “rovambira” which technically means “beating lanellphone”. According the “trusted” Wikipedia,
“The lanellphone or mbira is an African musical instrument consisting of a wooden board with attached staggered metal tines, played by holding the instrument in the hands and plucking the tines with the thumbs”.
Let Burl Dollah preach and play his mbira. Class is in session.
We at the #TribeofGuruvé wish him Love, Safety, Positivity, Good Food and More Success because he’s a rappin’ a** brotha. Our only fault is not getting a picture with him.
You read it here – first.
© SonofGuruvé 2018