a song about a friend

nowadays, how do you know who's got your back? it's a rough world out there. who's gonna be the one holdin' your hand when you roll over yet another charming relationship? help get you through weight loss strategies? tell you it's gonna be ok after you pee all over your pants while on a first date to see "when we were kings" and your date is standing outside the bathroom waiting for you and it was really just an accident...just an accident, for real?
we had the mixtape, didn't we? you know that meant a lot. it told you who wanted you in their life for whatever reason. best friends would trade the "hypeness mixes" relaying to the other "when i put toad the wet sprocket next to ned's atomic dustbin it reminds me of the wonderful times we have hitting that glass pipe in your garage." the "i'm into you mix" is a fave, so much time and effort and you really know how well or poorly the bedroom sessions will go based on how many unironic tears for fears, roxette, or broadway ballad entries there are (maybe she's an eastern european drama major?). there are many more, but i liked the "rawness mix." while it shares some qualities with the "hypeness mix," its real goal is to say "when we get into some shit, this'll be playin' while i'm crackin' pool sticks off some skulls." don't know if that ever happened, but when compton's most wanted is on the playlist, you know you got someone down for life.

what's the equivalent today? sharin' a bank account with a loved one doesn't really seem to have the same effect. you don't really find "stoned is the way of the walk" baby bibs on gymboree registries. i'm reachin' out to the young people to give your peers some documentation of your love. make it official with a soundtrack to that person. it gets confusin' later on when you find yourself readin' into the potential soundtrack ellicited from an olive garden gift certificate.

winston-salem, north carolina, 1993

mr. mark would rather a chi chi's gift certificate is all he's sayin'.

microphone friend

it's so easy to convince kids to do anything. it's called bargaining, yo.

copacabana, bolivia, 2006

mr. mark trades garbage pail kids to get his car washed.

hip hop from mom's basement

life is 3% luck, 45% showing up, and 52% managerial. movement is caused when you get up and show your face. the rest falls in when you do the paper work. wonder why you still see shitty movies, watch bad television, and hear wack music? how many bosses have you had that you'd consider "bright?" 90% of people can't function with the 97% of effort that's needed. especially artists, yo. what a sensitive bunch. suckas can work a canvas, but most turn jello when they have to represent themselves, pay a bill, or leave for sunlight. that's why we're stuck with business mindedness in life, yo. and a lot of the good stuff will stay underground until artists can find a way to leave their basement and say "i am....oh, god i'm not ready for this." maybe just the "i am" part. don't worry, that was just the postman. it's gonna be alright, dog.
after saying all of this, there are times when the art should stay in the basement. rather, it should die there.

potomac, md, 1994

daisy fuentes? mr. mark is deeply ashamed. deeply.

make 'em say hug

'cause every thug needs a no limit shoulder to cry on.

the source, 1999

crosstown beef is the basis of hip hop. let's move towards local greens in the millennium, y'all.