"And we are world’s, world’s, world’s famous…”
---World Famous Supreme Team
Years ago when I was in midst a lucrative run of hustling, gallivanting, and whoring, I had one of millions of philosophical conversations with my Uncle Alan, my pastor and by far the most influential male in my life. These conversations are usually threefold: the first being humorous, the second being educational, and the third being introspection. In midst the conversation, he gave me a jewel. He told me that one can tell a lot about another person by the people in their circle. He said that if you’re by far the sharpest sword in your camp, you’ll never get any sharper. Steel sharpens steel. If you want to continue to achieve and excel in life, you need to be surrounded by a solid camp of folk who will always push you to be and do your best at all times. There’s really no time for complacency in this life. Take it from your highness. It’s crazy how my uncle always has a way of getting all in my business without actually knowing a damn thing. I won’t ever bash my folk, and I was raised and taught that I am no better than the next individual. Furthermore, I love my niggas. I could never disrespect my team. So let’s just say that I was doing much better than everyone in my circle. They all looked up to me. I was the educated one. I was the one without any felonies. I was the one working in the school system. Even though I was underachieving tremendously, to those in my circle I was doing big things. Naturally, after a good minute I began to sip the Kool-Aid. I began to let their thoughts invade my head. I became complacent. I ended up falling off even further. It still hurts me to say that I had to cut a few of my folk off. I have always and will always love them, but in order for me to get my shit together, I had to break camp. I had to surround myself with folk who had a vision of making it to the top of the mountain, not merely trying to make it through the day. Fast forward some years, and I’m blessed to say that @crewunB is a team of diverse talent that compliments one another lovely. Every crew member brings a different talent to the table, and every member also has his or her individual business/project that they are committed to in addition to @crewunB. It’s a beautiful thing when a plan comes together. Take a look around your camp. If you’re the only sharp blade you’ll inevitably dull over time. Surround yourself with people with their eyes on the prize. Watch your flourish season arrive. What’s even crazier is when you realize that you, at some point, were a person who was cut off because you were the underachiever. I had it happen to me from a girlfriend. She was greatly disappointed at the fact that I was selling drugs on the west side of the Bronx rather than actually using my education and degree to earn and excel. Silly of her, right? The tragedy is that I didn’t even realize she was completely right until many years later. To be completely honest, she wasn’t the only lady of mine who told me I was underachieving at that point in my life. But I was knee-deep in the game. I wasn’t trying to hear jack shit. Some you win some you lose…but you will learn. The best I can tell you is to listen when people tell you pertinent shit, especially if you know you’re hearing the truth. Don’t let pride and flat out ignorance ruin your life.
I would like to send a bday shout out to my sister from another mother, Mrs @crewunB herself, Janay Levy. She is a lady of dignity, grace, beauty, and poise, and I’m proud to call her my sister. Here’s to 60 more. Cheers.
Send all love/hate mail to email@example.com, as well as any personal business inquiries. Better catch me before I’m outta your price range. Follow me on the Twitter @tymonday, as well as my brogods @TheMisterCeizzo and @CraftyLefty57. Be sure to follow the squadron @crewunB, too. We can be found on IG as theunbearablescrew. This way, you can contact us for one of our 767 fly ass tees, screen print as well as a la carte. Have it your way. Until next time, y’all. It’s my time
“Late at night, I catch a buzz, then I write.” ---Buckshot
“All I need is the love of my crew. The whole world (industry) can hate me, I’ll thug my way through.”
There’s a reason or a method to the madness of my oft used quotes to begin these blogs. Any quote I use is indicative of my mood or my thoughts going into creating the pragmatic insanity I spew into face of popular culture. I guess you could call this a FYI.
Now to get into some serious shit…
Beware of a couple of things in the aftermath of the Mike Brown slaying in Ferguson, Missouri. Beware of what you say on social media. Even though I’m on Facebook, I’m one of the more inactive Facebook users you’ll come across. I have my reasons. But earlier tonight, my best friend from VUU and EFIL4AGGIN, Leroy Rock Lark, told me that a lot of us (Negroes) have been on FB making dumbass statements involving violence toward police and white folk. I think that’s the most ignorant shit of all time, not to mention corny, and I’m formerly and on special occasions one of history’s all time ignorant niggas. Without even checking to see who said what, I can guarantee 99% percent of the MF talking crazy wouldn’t kill a roach in a hospital room. These monkeys are speaking off of emotion, a cardinal no-no in life and even more so on social media. Once you send that post, tweet, or IG it’s there indelibly. It doesn’t matter if you delete it, whether it’s FB, the Twitter, or IG. Someone saw it; someone screenshot it. Now, you’re open to all types of scrutiny, whether it is fair or completely unfair. And you deserve it. In addition, you could affect your employment status or even your freedom for saying something too outlandish. For those of us out there talking crazy toward white folk, you only add fuel to the fire when it comes to race relations. You have absolutely no right to turn this into a racial matter if you plan to ridicule all white folk. There are plenty of good white folk protesting right beside our sisters and brothers in Ferguson right TF now, all in the name of humanity. If you’re looking at from a racial perspective with regard to the police, go right ahead. All police aren’t dirty, but enough are for me not to fuck with police at all. I’ll leave it at that. But to make this a black versus white, Do The Right Thing Bedford Stuyvesant, Brooklyn 1989 summer day is completely out of place, and I’m ashamed that you are members of my race. Shut your ignorant ass the fuck up and go sit down somewhere. Delete FB, the Twitter, and IG off your phone and read a book, preferably 100 Blocks Stories.
Now for the fake revolutionaries out there in the aftermath…I’m sure if I were to analyze each and every one of you on a case by case basis, I’d find that many of you wouldn’t have the heart to go out tomorrow and die for your freedom, even if it meant the difference between life and death. You’re pussy, and you value your own lives way too much to be about and for the cause. But you know this in your hearts. At the end of the day, you have to answer to the man in the mirror. I don’t even waste my time addressing youse types most of the time. But in America, talk is cheap. You gotta show me, just like the state of Missouri (all pun intended). And for those of you who really are (somewhat) about your issue, you piss me off even worse. I can excuse the pussy niggas because 9 outta 10 I knew they were pussy and I never even took any of their words into consideration. But those of you “real” revolutionaries out there, you piss me off even more because youse niggas are seasonal employees. Let an innocent black body drop and you’re right there for the cause. But what happens two months after the not guilty verdicts and all out exonerations? What about a year later? Where are you MF? How many of you are still out there riding for Amadou Diallo? What about Sean Bell? You fake niggas don’t e’en mention Trayvon’s name anymore. Truth be told, the only folk out there in the past year or so I’ve seen mention Trayvon more than once are myself, my sis @Fuck_YoDreadz, and my lil homie @KWill_UC. I’ve never professed to be one of you revolutionary types, except for my own personal beliefs. I’m not the banner carrying, protest and march type of nigga. I’m just not a proponent, mainly because I fail to see its efficacy. Feel free to disagree or even hate me, that’s your opinion and right. All I ask is that you return the favor. In closing, be ‘bout your issue 24/7/365 like my folk @change_thoughts. She’s really outchea going hard for us. You know where I divert my attention and effort: to the babies. I choose to pay it forward. In my mind, that’s our only option.
Send all love/hate mail to firstname.lastname@example.org, as well as any personal business inquiries. Better get me while I’m still a bargain. Follow me on the Twitter @tymonday, as well as my brothers @TheMisterCeizzo and @CraftyLefty57 and our squadron, @crewunB. Our latest white and black tee limited releases are almost gone. Better get at us on the blogs or on IG at theunbearablescrew to place your order. Don’t forget, our a la carte game is le magnifique. Wait til you see how we flip the sweatshirts this fall. We gon have y’all on some Rye Playland Summer ’88 shit with the white and blue Nike Delta Forces. Wavy. Y’all be cool how y’all be cool.
“War is hell.” ---William Tecumseh Sherman
No disrespect, but if you’re not down with @crewunB, fuck you.
For anyone up at arms about my opening statement, the First Amendment told me to tell you fuck you as well.
Now that I’ve got your attention…
Big ups to all the good folk out there who’ve copped the latest tee release. We’re only about a week in and our black tees are already a hot item. You better cop yours before they sell out; the white limited editions are almost gone. But there are a few left. Y’all know what to do: hit the team up on the Twitter @crewunB, or @themisterceizzo, or on IG at theunbearablescrew. With the fall quickly approaching, our a la carte game is gonna be on full tilt. Look for me and the crew in some extra fly sweatshirts, long sleeve tees, and softball shirts (you know, the tees with the ¾ length sleeves). Rumor has it that the squad may release an ultra-limited edition #crewlove tee soon. I’m a keep y’all posted on that one. A nigga might shoot the 1D to get his hands on one of those like those coons in the X at the Foot Locker by 149th and Grand Concourse last Christmas season over those damn gamma blue Jordan XI. All jokes aside, I mighta had to smack a nigga over a pair of those if I was out there that day. What can I say? When I’m home uptown on the other side of the Hudson, my inner savage tends to surface. It’s the nigga in me, accompanied by the cognac.
I can say with great certainty that my nigga @Jeremih is the People’s Champ of R&B music. To many, he’s at best just been able to hang around the scene, but to real music heads, we know quite differently. Since the release of his classic mixtape Late Nights With Jeremih, he’s been pretty steady on the scene. He’s currently in rotation in every market, with his hit “Don’t Tell Him” featuring YG, and he gets extra love in NYC with his signature crooning on my nigga Vado’s “Bae.” Any nigga who’s either been featured on or did tracks with niggas like Gucci, Fab, 50, Meek, and had Drama host his mixtape is obviously loved throughout the industry. I’ll tell you this much: if you’ve got control of the Bluetooth or auxiliary cord and you play “Rosa Acosta” off Late Nights…, I guarantee you’ll have every female in the listening area rocking with you. Why? Cuz that shit is OD fly, damn it. And cuz that nigga’s the People’s Champ. I tried to told you.
It’s really fucked up how those pigs slaughtered that young boy in the streets out there in Mizzou. What further disgusts me is how these media outlets try to rationalize the murder of an unarmed teen. I don’t wonder anything; I know why they do what they do (the media). To them, we’re animals. It’s always been that way. God bless that young man’s soul. I’m not much for talking all day about it or protesting. Now, if y’all ready to spark the revolution against those pigs and any devil out there, put me on the front line. Dying in those trenches would be a glorious reward. But don’t talk and march me to fucking death. Those devils could care less about your protests and marches and such. Hate me for saying it, but it’s the truth. The only thing demons respect is violence. I’m not speaking in absolute racial terms, either, just police and bigots. I rock with any and everyone who rocks with me.
“I know you’re sick and tired of waiting on me girl, but I’m…just trying to get my money right. Soon as I’m done we can take a flight, so I can take you all around the world. Planes, trains, automobiles…Bentley or a Range, chromed out wheels…first class tickets, G4, you that deal, for real, I can take you all around the world.”
“All Around the World” by Game featuring Jamie Foxx is one of the smoothest songs in hip hop history. That nigga Game talks really crazy on some RNS, and Jamie slaughters the hook and ad libs. That’s Game’s second album, Doctor’s Advocate. Some features immediately sound contrived, and some seem like they were destined from the beginning of popular music. This song is a stellar example of the latter, not the former. When I listen to it, I gotta listen like three or four times and just zone. “Marques Houston, I don’t play that shit…”
If you have drama at your workplace, one thing is obvious: you don’t have enough of a workload. Concentrate more on your business and less on the drama. No one likes a stormy cloud in the workplace. Get high before work, during lunch, and coast through the rest of the day. But keep that negative shit to yourselves. Trust me; none of your coworkers wanna hear it.
Send any love/hate mail to email@example.com. Follow me on the Twitter @tymonday, as well as my folk @themisterceizzo, @CraftyLefty57, and @crewunB. Follow us on IG at theunbearablescrew. Peace to both coasts and the land in between.
Bosses wear horses, but Dons are unbearable.
Being that my last blog was a selfish bit of introspective reality, it’s only natural that this blog is dedicated to you, the people, whom I love and adore. I put that on everything. I’m always flattered at the mere thought that I have a solid base of good folk who read my blogs faithfully. I have always dreamed of the world knowing my name, and I’ve always had the confidence in my ability and the faith in my God to know that one day it will, but to know that people actually check for a nigga is very humbling. I do this for all y’all: Black, White, Hispanic, Asian, whomever. I do this for straight, gay, bisexual, trisexual, whomever. I do this for Christians, Jews, Muslims, Catholics, Hindus, Buddhists, atheists, whomever. Some fat, some skinny, Freda to Winnie, Emma to Cindy, Constance to Wendy (big ups to Kamaal Fareed, aka Q-Tip the Abstract Poetic, my first influence). I do this for my culture. I do this for those who don’t have a voice. Most people get this shit twisted. They think it’s about having 1,000,000+ social media followers, this great big flock of mindless sheep who dickride any and everything a famous MF says. But in actuality, it only takes a spark to get a fire going. You selfish niggas out there (none of my folk) are so caught up in taking the glory for yourselves that you completely ignore the bigger picture. It’s not about me starting the revolution. It’s about me or you or him or her imparting the wisdom in the child who may one day give birth to the one(s) who will spark the revolution. My ex fiancée Octavia Gallishaw taught me one important thing: it’s not always all about me. Sister Liz Dennis taught me to pay it forward. My Nubian culture taught me that each one should teach one. So, as much as I’d like to be the one to make the world revolve in the opposite direction, I’m more inclined to impart all I can into the next generation(s). But, having said all that, thank you all for your support, forever plus a day; as long as you keep reading, I’ll keep writing.
Fresh off the Negro news feed:
There was reportedly a colored man in the Fourth Ward of Englewood yesterday (Sunday) trying to push a bag of regular weed (Kat Williams voice) to passersby. Reggie Bush. Reggie Miller. Harraka. Garbage. This may have been worse than finding anthrax in the nation’s capital. I secretly wished that he be put away on hate crime legislation.
Under Armour has reportedly offered Kevin Durant $325 million over the next ten years to become the face of their brand and leave Team Nike, who has reportedly been unwilling to offer more than $17 million annually. Look…I’ve been Team Nike since the year 1982, and haven’t worn a pair of sneakers outside Nike/Jordan brand since the very first Reebok Allen Iverson kix in 1996 (2up2down), but for $325 million, I myself would insist on a clause in my own contract implicitly stipulating that in addition to wearing UA, I’d no longer be free to even speak the word Nike. Sheeit…
I saw a pig on Palisade Avenue, Englewood, NJ, USA this morning in uniform get into a grey 4 door Acura after leaving the newest overly hyped eatery in the Wood, Manhattan Bagel. That’s not fair y’all. But shit, last time I was home uptown in the X I saw two DTs in a grey 2 door Geo Metro. Them niggas threw the lights on as they turned off of East Tremont onto Webster and I almost pee peed on myself. That ain’t fair. Fuck Boyz.
THIS JUST IN: THE UNBEARABLES CREW IS PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE THAT THE BLACK UNBEARALBLES TEE IS AVAILABLE!!! I REPEAT, THE BLACK UNBEARABLES TEE IS IN!!! OUR NEWEST RELEASE IS A BLACK TEE WITH THE WHITE “THE UNBEARABLES” CLASSIC LOGO. THE WHITE TEES SOLD LIKE TEN DOLLAR BAGS OF DUST OUTTA TAFT PROJECTS ON THE EASTSIDE OF HARLEM. THESE MAY GO EVEN QUICKER. DON’T GET LEFT OUT IN THE COLD!!! THESE ARE LIMITED EDITION!!!
Forgive the above obligatory advertisement, but shit, we’ve gotta pay the bills. Go on ‘head and cop one for you, one for your baby and your baby mama, and one for your auntie.
Send all love/hate mail and personal business inquiries to firstname.lastname@example.org . Follow me on the Twitter @tymonday. Help a nigga get to one 1G followers. You could make the difference. I’m only 135 away (insert the man humbly walking away emoji)…follow my folk as well, @themisterceizzo, @CraftyLefty57, and our squadron, @crewunB. Catch us on IG at theunbearablescrew. Don’t forget, we still offer the best in a la carte design. Lil Ethan was very fresh today in his white flash unbearables tee. His coloring was precise. Now that I think about it, I wonder if his big bro Herson colored it for him…nah. Peace and blessings. Au revoir.
Nights like this I wish…that rain drops would fall.
It’s the corrupt diplomat, the drug addicted soul singer Ty Eddie Lee Kane Thompson Jr. I’m live from the edge of three dimensions, about a half a mile past the merger of Broadway and Ebony Junctions, sipping a double Hennessy straight with a couple known diamond crooks from East Paradise. I’m just doing what colored folk do. If you good folk don’t mind, go on ‘head and pour yourself a nice stiff drink, take flight, and just relax. We’re gon do what we do; we’re gon discuss life, a bite at a time.
I’m not afraid to say I grew up in [a] Christian household(s), believers in Jesus the Christ. I’m not Muslim, I’m not God Body, I’m not some atheist, or anything else that seems to be the trend nowadays. All respect to any religion or lack thereof, one of the greatest liberties of being an American. But I’m speaking as a boy with a praying grandmother (RIP Mary Warren) when I say count your blessings. I can remember a time when I was an unthankful bastard, a young know-it-all whom no one could tell a damn thing. We never had much, but we always had enough. Shareon at one time worked three part time jobs with no benefits to make sure I ate. Much love to my step pops Sam Smith, a man who loved me when Tyrone Sr. wasn’t able to. I was a young whiz kid who got to run the streets early rocking with my older cousins, and I figured I knew every damn thing. I had a full academic ride to Virginia Union, and no one could tell me shit. I had, at a young age, mastered both worlds, so I thought. Fast forward a half a lifetime and, through all the street life (we’ll leave it at that for now); I tell all my young niggas to take heed to good wisdom, to do things the right way. It’s so much easier that way. Yeah, if you’re really about your issue when you hit those streets to do whatever hustle you do, you enjoy your fair share of good times. You eat very well. You entertain all of your carnal delights and desires. You get as high as the Eiffel Tower in gay Paris on all types of drugs. You live the life. But then, one day, the ride ends. Why go through all the pain if you can avoid it? The streets are for some folk. For others, it isn’t the wave. For some of us, it wasn’t for us, but we were apex predators and went the extra two miles, just cuz e’y body slept on you. They told you that you weren’t built for that. But you knew that you were. You prove them wrong. All of them…you eat. You eat real fucking good. Then it’s over. Then it’s back to square one. What a pum pum.
So, you’re a summer removed from the end of your hustling career. You go from ghetto heaven to being down to your last $60, sitting in Jefferson Projects where you’re living with your family (after being homeless after being put out of your apartment) on the Thursday morning before the start of the school year watching Maury, trying to mentally outline a plan to budget your money to be able to exist until you get a payroll check for subbing, a job you went back to amidst the height of your hustle. You wonder how $60 is going to last two plus weeks. But you don’t stress because faith told you you’d be ok. Faith told you that the Lord would make a way. Then, as you’re sitting there watching Maury your Blackberry (which you owe the month’s bill) rings, and you see that it’s the number for your school district. You immediately thank Jesus, knowing you’re going to have some sort of assignment on day one, which equaled having a payroll check the first payroll. You’re going to make it. Then you remember to pick up the phone. It’s the head of the Special Education department, asking you if you’d like a full time position within the district, salary plus benefits. It seems surreal. In a way it is. You accept. And somehow, this kind lady knows that you’re sitting in a project apartment in East Harlem down to your absolute last, so she goes ahead and lets you know that the first payroll is the following Friday. Being that you’re already on payroll you just have to come by within the next couple days and pick up additional paperwork for your health insurance. Forgive me atheists, but there’s no way in hell you’re going to tell me that one, there isn’t a God, and two, that he doesn’t make a way for his children. As a matter of fact, he makes a way out of no way. He did for me seven years ago this month. At that time, I was homeless, had just escaped drug charges thanks to my two OGs, and was basically the epitome of an underachiever per the way my life was supposed to turn out. But the Lord continually spared my dumb ass. He had a plan for me. He still does. You may think that this blog was a Les Brown type motivation for all you good folk out there, but really, I was selfish tonight. I wrote this blog for me. My brother @themisterceizzo will tell you; I, we, are on the verge of greatness. It was written. But like my OG D. Maull always tells me, “waiting is the hardest part.” It’s hard when it’s so close that you can taste it, knowing that you’re on the brink of being able to provide for not only yourself, but others as well. So I had to remind myself tonight of the Lord’s mercy. I’ve been in tougher times, and I made it through. I’m not writing this blog in tears or down in a ditch, rather, I’m writing it on my grind, with the money on my mind. But it’s on my mind for righteous reasons…mostly. But all I need you good folk to do is just one thing: picture me rolling.
Our white tees are selling like two for five dollar yellow tops of crack on any uptown block in the late ‘80s; you better get yours before we finish our pack. But the re-up is gonna be ill. We’re gonna flip the tees. The next batch of product is gonna be black with the white classic theunbearables logo. We plan to crush the game to end the summer headed back to school. Look out for those black tees within the next few weeks while you fall through our site www.theunbearablescrew.com. Our product is out here in these streets, and it’s being seen. The people love it, cooked or uncooked. Don’t forget, our a la carte game is still on full tilt. Just hit the site or our ace, my brogod @themisterceizzo on the Twitter. You can find me there at @tymonday, as well as my other brogod @CraftyLefty57 and our team, @crewunB. We’re also on IG as theunbearablescrew. If you have any love/hate mail or personal business inquiries, you can reach me at email@example.com. That’s my time y’all. Y’all be cool how y’all be cool. Water.