I have gained fresh inspiration from two of the greatest hip-hop artists to ever live. They were but men but that’s all we are. Tupac and B.I.G. this one’s for you

Two Crown Jewels

At aphelion and perihelion

Revolutionaries in their own right

Too flawed to be martyrs

Good men trying to be bad

But a whole generation saw shackles loosed by words they spoke

Prophets speaking of a Canaan they’d never set foot in

They were

Cats with their own scratching posts

Spitting bars so juicy

What they did

They did for love

The big Poppa and Makaveli

Moguls of the East and West Coasts

Tossing the rhymes smooth like the sin of window panes

Hip-hop had a voice

They spoke about crack

And babies having babies

The stuff that hit the black and white

Men drowning in their blood

Boys turning their back on their brood

They said

Hard truths

Made immortal

Sadly a reality still today

And even though egos drowned the sound of peace

They left the world aided by Chiron

Riddled with holes they bled

But gods don’t die


Thug life lovers

Poets on the beat

Our own royalty

They were prime

Indivisible by anyone but themselves and God

I picture them rolling

Rabbit eared bandannas and top hatted shades

They say he whom the gods love die young

But they were above anything true to themselves in song.

Timeless legends

We will never see them grow old

They catch the sun

Shining beautiful


They were

Two Crown Jewels

At aphelion and perihelion

© Sena Frost ’17

Images courtesy google images



We crave it

Relish it like it’s a God-given gift

Got thugs all lit

Pulling on some good Kush

Like it gonna give their souls a lift

Them girls looking all lush

Lights dancing off that bootie


Drawing power with ya cootie

Putting them cash brokers to slave working

Them accounts like they cotton

Spinning yarns

Call’em tall tales

Power ain’t lies

Just the tip of lions’ tails

Strung up and musical

Waxing and pitching like a lyre

Singing niqqas going lyrical

Whispering sweet nothings

Puppet master’s got the girl


Sweeting that money sauce


She make him better cos she the source

Of a niqqa’s new wheels

Call her marinade


It got a little man bawling

At the top of his lungs

Tryin’ to get his groove on balling

But his mama ain’t let him have that toy.

Pretty girls gon’ make up

To make up

Over blackheads and pimples

That are made up.

Got a student living in paper

With dreams of dealing paper

But how he gon’ spend it

When he ain’t know how life gon’ be lived.



We crave it

Like the neighbourhood patrol

Going trigger happy

Squeezing bullets at nappy headed targets on parole

Baam Bullseye!

Got us saying


To the movers and shakers

Dealing with the devil

With minds twisted

Desire so evil

We draw lots

To see the pillar of salt

Strike a devil’s bargain

To be drunk on power

Comes at a price


It ain’t fo’ free

But we reach out for it

You think I’m lying?

Watch your little kids move you

With teary eyes and sulky faces

Biting deep into your stash

Venomous little snakes putting you through your paces

Constricting hard and making your teeth gnash

Taking all the little spaces


But hey it ain’t all bad

Cos we architects and builders

Using that AutoCAD

Shaping dreams and realities

But control?

I ain’t never let it take my frailties

I submit

So yeah I’m flipping them switches

Touching them buttons

Cos I’m on that cruise control.


© Sena Frost 2k16

image courtesy google images


I insurrect,

Come out of my corner swinging

Aiming to resurrect

Knock some sense into y’all knuckle heads with the rage my fists are bringing

Shake up your intellect

Spittin’ bars of pain

Feet stomping in the yard

Got your head bobbing

Filling you with the feel good factor

Like I hit you up with some codeine and promethazine

Throw it up with some Mountain Dew and Jolly Ranchers,

Got you feeling high and shine like freshly lit turpentine,

Toss you around like a dog mauling a doll with its crunchers.


I ain’t no Shakespeare,

No Allan Poe,

But I got shakes here,

Battling with a very visible foe,

Melanin brewed in my skin,

Team lightskin and darkskin

Yet still blacker than the shadiest night.

They got us chasing our shadows on the wall,

Fists bleeding


Going bump bump bump,

They spitting red

Kinda like Friday the 13th

Starring Krueger Fred.

They carve us alive.

Sane and whole


Call’em Hannibal,


Standing preaching about colour

Like day and night belong with each other.


I speak about my reality,

May not be the truth to you

But it ain’t no fantasy

Kidnapping kids

Hear ‘em shrieking

They leading us lambs to the slaughter

For their fine gourmet dinners

Then we go silent,


Cos we wolves in sheepskins

Call us shape shifters


Children of the dark

You call us niggers



Imma spit Amharic

Cos we children of the Negus

Ask the Weeknd

He gon’ tell you.

We got that high power

Free wheelin’

Like free Willie.

Black is the colour

Black is the night

Black is the past

It ain’t a colour

It’s everything not light,

An absolute

And after we got y’all running scared

We gon’ settle you down

Break bread

But more importantly

We say Grace.



Black power

Own it

Cos we insurrect


King Kong


In the face of violence

Never stand down.

This is a public service announcement kind courtesy of Know yourself.


© Sena Frost 2k16

image courtesy @ghanaposts on Instagram