Archive for November, 2006

>>> A Little of.. Creative Writing <<<

November 29th, 2006

So while text messagin with my baby, she throw me a little.. poem out of the blue. (I dunno whether this can even be considered as a poem, but heck, its the cute side of her *winks*). Here goes:

Birthday girl is sleepy now,
She needs to recharge her energy,

Birthday girl wish she don’t have to go to work tomorrow,
She can have her holiday in her dreams tonight, perhaps..
Her eyes really need to rest,
Or else she’ll cry like a baby because don’t have enough sleep..

Oh her sleepy, sleepy eyes..

Copyright to: Fazlina Ahmad Zawawi, my baby boo..

Hehe.. I didn’t have the chances to reply via SMS, so I put some of mine here for her to read… *winks*

Oh birthday girl she’s been sleepy,
Come to me baby I’ll make you happy..

Sleeping soundly in the hold of my arms,
Wish I could hug her to make her sleep warm,
Her sparkling eyes shut close to rest,
Dreaming of the holiday, one of her life’s best..

Go honey, give the beautiful eyes a break,
Recharge your energy, and gives your work tomorrow a havoc to wreck!

Dedicated to my lovely honey, Fazlina Ahmad Zawawi, one of the best woman I ever had in my life, the one that I cherish every moment with every breathe, the one that I care and cuddle in the day, the one that I love and miss all night long..

*winks*

>>> Reality versus Cyber world <<<

November 26th, 2006
Alright I’m out of idea. So some anonymous people commented to suggest me to write about reality versus cyber world. Fine I take that. That is such a broad area, and I don’t know what to focus actually.

Let’s start with the definition shall we? For me, cyberworld is just a word to describe the scenario that revolves around computers, internet, networks, technologies or stuff like that (I consider phone as a technology also btw). Our technology has changed rapidly; nowadays, mails are much more faster to be send via wire. Songs can be downloaded, movies can be pirated. What else? Anonymity.

People rarely knows who is behind the screen. Who is behind the phone. How he or she looks like. How he or she behaves like. Or how he or she respond to the things that you say via the wire. Except you already know who is behind the line, you cannot guess how he or she respond, or more freaking facts, you don’t know whether he or she is serious or not!

When anonymity arised, people always tend to show their true inner self in cyber world. The “alter ego”. Example? Me. I take this cyber world to shout my inner self. I cursed, I hate, I love. I say anything I want. Hey I won’t lie to you, its a relief. And you won’t do much damage. Good therapy for me. (Oh yes, all people need their space. That’s for real. And this is one of my place)

What’s wrong with that? Nothing I think. In fact, thats somehow make you easier to talk things about you. Take SMS as an example. Even though you don’t know how the facial expression of the others (the one you SMSing with), but you can speak your thoughts easily right?

How many people has been disturbed with anonymous number, misscalls, messages? Or how many people has been stalked with technology?

But hey, that’s about people! Not technology!

Technology for me is not to be blame but accepted and used in a right way. It resembles the reality world actually; how many stalking cases has been reported in the real world? How many death threats has been delivered via snail mail? How many fake love letter has been send? How many cons or theft has been done?

Technology has created a similar world; its just easier. No emotional effect, you say? Well take a peek at how divorce has been sent via SMS? No emotional effect then? People is a thing equipped with emotional and psychological; its just impossible to say that another things used by people will not have enough emotional involved.

Reminiscing the old time of mine, I smiled to the things that I’ve done. Stalking random numbers? Sending spam and junks email? Messaging random numbers? haha! I’ve made quite a number of friends and enemy back then.

Back to the topic, its how you used and behave in this cyber world that will determined everything. Thats the bottom line.

And I’ve learned how to take out my alter ego to the real world besides this cyber world. My world is the same between this two.

P/s: That’s it people, I can’t produce something up to the quality if I don’t have any point to focus on. Y’all want a single, fuck that! Take this one, and throw me some more ideas on what to focus on. Else? Fuck that, like Korn says.

>>> Hit Em Up! <<<

November 10th, 2006

This Tupac song is one of the earliest song of him that I’ve heard back in my high school. The first song of Tupac that really catches my attention. The first song that for me, have so much attitudes in it. Now I just want to paste the lyrics here. heh. (taken from: http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/2pac/hitemup.html)

“Hit ‘Em Up”

[Tupac]

I ain’t got no mutha fuckin friends
Thats why I fucked your bitch
You fat mutha-fucka {Take Money}
West Side
Bad Boy Killers {Take Money}
You know who the realist is
niggas we bring it to {Take Money}
(ha ha, that’s alright)

First off, fuck your bitch
And the click you claim
West side when we ride
Come equipped with game
You claim to be a playa
But, I fucked your wife
We bust on Bad Boys
niggas fuck for Life
Plus Puffy tryin’ to see me weak
Hearts I rip
Biggie Smalls and Junior Mafia
Some mark ass bitches
We keep on coming
While we running for yah jewels
Steady gunning
Keep on busting at them fools
You know the rules
Little Ceasar go ask you homie
How i’ll leave yah
Cut your young ass up
See yah in pieces
Now be deceased
Little Kim,
Don’t fuck around with real G’s
Quick to snatch your ugly ass, off the streets
So fuck peace
I’ll let them niggas know
It’s on for Life
Don’t let the west side
Ride the night (ha ha)
Bad Boys murdered on Wax and kill
fuck with me
And get your caps peeled
You know, See

[Chorus]

Grab your glocks when you see 2pac
Call the cops when you see 2pac, Uhh
Who shot me,
But, your punks didn’t finish
Now, you ’bout to feel the wrath of a menace
nigga, I hit ‘em up

Check this out
You mutha-fuckas know what time it is
I don’t know why I’m even on this track
Y’all niggas ain’t even on my level
I’m going to let my little homies
Ride on yah
bitch made ass Bad Boys bitches
{ahh yo, yo, hold the fuck up}

Get out the way yo
Get out the way yo
Biggie Smalls just got dropped
Little move pa*s the mac
And let me hit ‘em in his back
Frank White needs to get spanked right
For setting up traps
Little accident murderers
And I ain’t never heard of yah
Poise less gats attack when I’m serving yah
Spank the shank
Your whole style when I gank
Guard your rank
Cause I’m a slam your ass in a pang
Puffy weaker than a fuckin’ block
I’m running through nigga
And I’m smoking Junior Mafia
In front of yah nigga
With the ready power
Tucked in my Guess
Under my Eddie Bower
Your clout petty sour
I push packages ever hour
I hit ‘em up

[Chorus]

Grab your glocks when you see 2pac
Call the cops when you see 2pac, Uhh
Who shot me,
But, your punks didn’t finish
Now, you ’bout to feel the wrath of a menace
nigga, We hit ‘em up

Peep how we do it
Keep it real
Its penitentiary steel
This ain’t no freestyle battle
All you niggas getting killed
With your mouths open
Tryin’ to come up off of me
You and the clouds hoping
Smoking dope
It’s like a Shermine
niggas think they learned to fly
But they burn mutha-fucka you deserve to die
Talking about you Getting Money
But its funny to me
All you niggas living bummy
While you fucking with me?
I’m a self made Millionaire
Thug livin’, out of prison
Pistols in the Air {Air} (Ha Ha)
Biggie remember when I use to let you sleep on the couch
And beg the bitch to let you sleep in the house
Now its all about versace
You copied my style
Five shots couldn’t drop me
I took it and smiled
Now I’m back to set the record straight
With my A-K
I’m still the thug that you love to hate
Mutha-fucka I’ll Hit ‘Em Up

I’m from N E W Jers.
Where plenty of murder occurs
No points to come
We bring drama to all you herds
Now go check the scenerio
Little Ceas’
I’ll bring you fake G’s to yah knees
Copin’ pleas with these
Little Kim is yah
Coked up or doped up
Get your little Junior Whopper click smoked up
What the fuck?
Is you stupid?
I take money,
crash and mash through Brooklyn
With my click looting, shooting, and polluting your block
With fifteen shot,
Cocked glock to your knot
Outlaw Mafia click moving up another notch
And your Pop stars popped and get dropped and mopped
And all your fake ass east coast props
Brainstormed and locked

You’se a beat biter
Pac style taker
I’ll tell you to face, you ain’t nothing shit but a faker
So fill the Alize with a chaser
’bout to get murdered for the paper
E.d.i I mean post the scene of the caper
Like a loc, with little Ceas’ in a choke (uhh)
Toting smoke, we ain’t no mutha-fuckin’ joke
Thug Life, niggas better be known
Be approaching
In the wide open, gun smoking
No need for hoping
It’s a battle lost
I gottem crossed as soon as the funk is bopping off
nigga, I hit ‘em up

Now you tell me who won
I see them, they run (ha ha)
They don’t wanna see us
Whole Junior Mafia click
Dressing up to be us
How the fuck they gonna be the Mob?
When we always on out job
We millionaire’s
Killing ain’t fair
But somebody got to do it

Oh yah Mobb Deep (uhh)
You wanna fuck with us
You Little young ass mutha-fuckas
Don’t one of you niggas got sickle-cell or something
You fucking with me, nigga ?
You fuck around and catch a seizure or a heart-attack
You better back the fuck up
Before you get smacked the fuck up
This is how we do it on our side
Any of you niggas from New York that want to bring it,
Bring it.
But we ain’t singing,
We bringing drama
fuck you and your mother fucking mama.
We gonna kill all you mother fuckers.
Now when I cam

e out, I told you it was just about biggie.
Then everybody had to open their mouth with a mother fuckin opinion
Well this is how we gon’ do this:
fuck Mobb Deep,
fuck Biggie,
fuck Bad Boy as a staff, record label, and as a mother fuckin crew.
And if you want to be down with Bad Boy,
Then fuck you too.
Chino XL, fuck you too.
All you mother fuckers,
fuck you too.
(take money, take money)
All of y’all mother fuckers,
fuck you, die slow mother fucker.
My fo’ fo’ (.44 magnum) make sure all yo’ kids don’t grow.
You mother fuckers can’t be us or see us.
We mother fuckin’ Thug Life riders.
West Side till’ we die.
Out here in California, nigga
We warned ya’
We’ll bomb on you mother fuckers.
We do our job.
You think you the mob, nigga, we the mother fuckin’ mob
Ain’t nuttin’ but killers
And the real niggas, all you mother fuckers feel us.
Our shit goes triple and four quadruple
You niggas laugh cuz our staff got guns under they mother fuckin’ belts
You know how it is and we drop records they felt
You niggas can’t feel it
We the realist
fuck ‘em.
We Bad Boy killas.