Lyrically Speaking: Keri Hilson~ Intuition

        A man’s arch nemesis has been and will ALWAYS be a woman’s intuition. I think it was apart of the deal when he snatched Adam’s rib. His rib contained 10% of Adam’s DNA which was a divine tracking device and lie detector. It lets the woman know when something isn’t right even when she can’t quite put a finger on it. I can’t describe it, but it is the oddest feeling in the entire world. She could just be sitting there when all of a sudden something tells her to call her man…..while on the other side of town he is getting his freak on with her best friend. Yes, it is like a face off between Batman and the Riddler. It is just this feeling…..

        And as I thought about this topic… one of my favorite songs came to mind. Keri Hilson’s “Intuition”. Yes, this song just screams “I am woman, hear me roar. I know you did wrong, negro don’t play me. Now pack your shit and bounce.” hahahaha I don’t know if that was her intention when she wrote it, but that became my subtext when I heard it. I think it is all even, right? I mean… I know for a fact that EVERY woman pleading Intuition isn’t on the right path, but for the other 99.999999% of us who listen to our intuition for the right reasons, we are hardly ever wrong. A wise woman once told me that our intuition is God snitching on the universe. What an image, right…. but it works. So I go with my gut feelings majority of the time and I am right.

        Now this song has a taste of both Indian and Asian instrumentation to it, and I think that would be a great place to start with my interpretation of the video.

        I think that the video should start with Keri asleep in bed. As her man grabs the keys off the dresser and you see the door closing behind him.

“Intuition”

Whoa [3x]

Hey hey…

Keri pops up in bed and begins to look around. She leans over and looks out the window as she sees him backing out of the driveway.

[Chorus]
I got this crazy feeling
I’m gone be single again
I know it, I can feel it
I know you gone mess up

        Keri gets out of bed and walks to throw on an Asian designer trench coat with a fidora, glances in the mirror by the front door, grabs her keys and hops in her car.

Wow, you really turn me on
So I, I really hope I’m wrong [whoa]
It would break my world If you ain’t true to me, yea
But I’m not the silly girl I used to be
And I Know how it goes yea

       She comes to a light and sees his car outside of a massage parlor. Shot switches to her walking through the parlor looking for her guy. She catches him getting a massage in one of the rooms and she rubs her hands down his back. He pops up to look around but Keri is gone and in her car back home

[Pre-Chorus]
Dude’s out here think they slick
Got a lot of girls on they (dadadadada)
And they can’t say no
Steady telling me they ain’t you
I’ma wait to see what you gone do
Hope you know you got a good thing, yea

[Chorus]
I got this crazy feeling
I’m gone be single again
I know it, I can feel it
I know you gone mess up

I got this crazy feeling
I’m gone be single again
I know it, Its gone happen
I know you gone mess up

       Fast forward technique to push the story ahead a few hours. Scene stops at Keri fighting with a guy while she is wearing a kimono. The fight is brief and he walks out of the house. With Keri walking along the window of the house. Shot cuts to Keri walking along the glass window of an Asian restaurant with her “guy” sitting at a dinner table obviously waiting for someone for dinner. She is on her Inspector Black Chick trying to get a better view of him. The entire restaurant is filled with guys sitting at tables by themselves with an all female staff.

I, I love the way we fight so
So, I hope this is all in my mind (hope it’s in my mind)
Baby don’t you know
It would break my world, if you ain’t true to me yea
But I’m not the silly girl I used to be
See I know how it goes

       The servers in the restaurant and random  staff members throughout the dining area join in for choreography. Some women are private detectives with cameras and notepads. The servers are performing choreography around the guy’s table that they are servicing, every guy but Keri’s. The servers collect glasses, and utensils CSI style and places them in an evidence bag, placed back on the serving tray and exit the dining area.

[Pre-Chorus]
Dude’s out here think they slick
Got a lot of girls on they (dadadadada)
But they don’t say no
Steady telling me they ain’t you
I’ma wait to see what u gone do
Hope you know you got a good thing cause I,

[Chorus]
I got this crazy feeling
I’m gone be single again
I know it, I can feel it
I know you gone mess up

I got this crazy feeling
I’m gone be single again
I know it, Its gone happen
I know you gone mess up

 

        Then you see everything go pitch black, when a spotlight pops up over one guy like an interrogation lamp. Keri walks up to the two-way window and her silhouette is seen dancing directly in front of her guy. Snippets of individual female detectives come into the light surrounding him.

Your gonna get too comfortable (you gone mess up)
Gonna want something new babe (you gone mess up)
Your gonna be just like the rest (you gone mess up)
It’s gonna be you babe before me

         They release him and he is free to leave. Keri is seen in a designer trench coat walking behind him out of the police station.  He gets to his car and pulls off before her. She runs to her car and speeds off.

I trust my heart, broke down my guard
I worked so hard to take good care of you

I trust my heart, broke down my guard
I worked so hard, I hope it ain’t true

       Keri begins to say this next part into her rear view mirror. She pulls up next to him, glances over, and then runs through a red light and he stops. She makes it home before him.

Look at me
You wanna miss all this?
Go ‘head
Bring that back
Whoa [3x]

        As he reaches for the front door, Keri opens it in her Kimono and takes his hand to lead him upstairs.

 

It’s in my mind
Whoa [3x]
Hope its in my mind

        There is a pan in shot of a photo in her bag of him sitting at the table in the restaurant by himself and then a figure of a woman fades into view in the chair across from him. She has on a fidora to cover her face and the video ends.

        Yeh…I know. Wild and all over the place. But this has that Carmen San Diego feel about it. A woman detective going on a hunch. That inner voice telling her that something isn’t right. And though she may not have the proof… it’s there. So, that was my take on it…. did you like it?

       Check back tomorrow when I ask my 200 Men about the 2 things they wish that women would stop doing. How does that tie into intuition? Well, we already know as women what we want guys to stop or start doing…so why not hear from them. Maybe these are the things that make them misbehave which in turn peaks our intuition.  [Will insert Link here]

        Scroll Down to leave a comment or read comments. If you are on the Homepage, click the title of this individual blog to see or leave a comment.

Sincerely,

*My Mother’s Daughter*~

Lyrically Speaking: Waka Flocka-No Hands

Second Edition

        Like Waka Flocka at all of his paid performances, I am at a loss for words. I mean, I will make an honest attempt to give some form of props in the middle of this mess….but no promises.

        Waka Flaka’s No Hands is a very trendy and catchy beat and chorus that has teens from DC to Japan screaming “Look ma, no hands” and even though I have been guilty of bobbing to it in my own house and subconsciously learning the lyrics thanks to constant rotation on the radio, I wouldn’t want anyone else learning it. Hypocrite? Yes, and rightfully so. I’m old enough to know what the lyrics of the song mean. I wish I could sit a class down and deconstruct these lyrics. It’s the teen group that I want to stop from bobbing to this, because the girls are the first ones to jump up and prove to the boys that they are the best “No Hands” chick in the building, and the boys continue to think that treating these girls as such is what the girls want because they aren’t showing them otherwise.

        I remember when Hip-Hop use to make us think, you to get you amped up to do something, but now this rap stuff is for no other use than to degrade and get your head bobbing in the club. Being, indirectly, from the south you would think that I was proud of the south’s musical (lack of) achievements. I mean, the Stanky Leg and No Hands should be enough to make me rep’ my city….right? Not so much. Okay…enough of my banter… lets look at these lyrics. The same lyrics that get bleeped out on the radio and make it sound just a little bit cleaner than what it was ever intended to be……those edited lyrics are WAY better than what is said.

Chorus:

Roscoe;Chorus:]
Girl the way you’re movin’
Got me in a trance
DJ turn me up
Ladies dis yo jam
I’ma sip Moscato
And you ‘gon lose dem pants
Then I’ma throw this money
While you do it with no hands
Girl drop it to the flo’
I love the way yo booty go
All I want to do is sit back
And watch you move
And I’ll proceed to throw this cash

 

        Fiiiiiiiirst off! Roscoe has a daughter. I keep trying to tell people how this whole ” I will corrupt your sons and daughters while I protect my own seed” mentality is a bunch of bullshit! Some lil boy is going to grow up thinking that this is how to treat a woman, therefore making his daughter’s chances of finding a decent man who doesn’t want her just for her money slim to impossible!!! I can’t shout this enough. So he is telling you that this is your song & you’ve got to take your pants off BEFORE he’ll give you any money. Okay… on to the king of stupidity.

Verse 1:

Waka;Verse 1:]
(Waka, Waka, Waka, Flocka, Whoa, Whoa)
All that ass
In yo jeans
Can Wale beat
Can Roscoe skeet
Long hair she don’t care
When she walk she get stares
Brown skin or a yellow-bone
DJ this my favorite song
So I’ma make it thunderstorm
Bud, want it, Flocka, yea
Blowin’ ,fuck it, i dont care
Chests’ flyin’ everywhere
Got my partner Roscoe, like bruh
I’m drinkin’, help, can’t you tell
Booze help me hit them 15 steps
I’m fuckin’, well i’m tryna hit the hotel
With 2 girls that swallow me
Take this dick while swallow
Pay moscato got her freaky
Aye you got me in a trance
Please take off yo pants
Pussy pop on her handstand
You got me sweatin’
Please pass me a fan damn!

        After the “Shawt Bus Shawty intro……(Waka Waka Waka Waka). Ummmm…. So, he doesn’t even want to sleep with you. He just wants to ask if his boy can beat it and then can his OTHER boy skeet it? Classy! I mean…this should have all the girls out on the dance floor dancing like coons, booty tooted up in the air! And one wants to beat it…..sooooo is the other sitting in the corner holding his skeet? Or is he beating himself while the other beats and then they tag team WWE style while one now skeets on her and the other contains his skeet because that wasnt apart of the contractual agreement? Okay… I thought too much into that, but why say it if it doesn’t make any logical sense? So…further in the verse you are only good enough to suck him off because he doesn’t think you’re quite fuckable material because you might get pregnant and he doesn’t want that. And the first southern grammatical stab is “Chests'” ….pronounced by Waka as “Chest-is” LMAO!!! You showl is edjumikated. And I think he had a bout with schizophrenia in the middle when we asked himself if he wanted bud…and then answered himself. But….next!

After a flare of the chorus again……..

Verse 2:

[Wale;Verse 2:]
(Aye, aye, Wale, uh)
She said look ma no hands
She said look ma no hands
And no darling I don’t dance
And, I’m with Roscoe, I’m with Waka
I think i deserve a chance
I’m a bad mothafucka
Gon’ ask some mothafuckas
A young handsome mothafucka
I sling that wood
I just nun chuck ’em
And, who you wit
And, what’s yo name
And, you not hear boo, I’m Wale
And, that D.C. shit I rep all day
And, my eyes red cuz of all that haze
Don’t blow my high
Let me shine
Drumma on the beat
Let me take my time
Nigga want beef we can take it outside
Fight for what broad
These hoes ain’t mine
Is you out yo mind
You out yo league
I sweat no bitches
Just sweat out weaves
Where our tracks
Let me do my thing
I got 16, for this Roscoe thing
But, i’m almost done
Let me get back to it
Whole lotta loud
And a little backwood
Whole lotta money
Big tip I would
I put her on the train
Little engine could, bitch

 

        I know this is just a song, but she was proud enough to show her mother how she does it without hands? I wish I would!!! My mother would hop up from the grave and pimp slap me with the withering hang of my ancestors if I EVER did that in front of her. I’m still afraid to do stuff in my own house in fear that her spirit can see… & I am grown! lol. Nunchucks are weapons…..domestic violence is not cute metaphorically or literally….NEXT! Ummm what the fuck does “You not hear” mean? Is that suppose to be “you can’t hear” or “havent you heard” or am I bugging? Nope, not bugging… he did graduate from PG County public schools. I know… I live here…lmao! And just in case you thought that he would protect your honor after you gave up the ass…. think again! You hoes arent his! lol And just when you wanted frequent flier miles… he plans on straight up Amtraking your ass…..am I making my point?

And last but definitely not least:

Verse 3:

[Roscoe;Verse 3:]
(Roscoe Dash, let’s go)
R-O-S-C-O-E-Mr. shawty put it on me
I be goin’ ham
Shawty upgrade from baloney
Them niggas tippin’ good
Girl but I can make it flood
Cuz I walk around
With pockets bigger that are than my bus
Rain, rain go away
That’s what all my haters say
My pockets stuck on overload
My reign never evaporates
No need to eleborate
Most of these ducks exaggerate
But, i’ma get money nigga
Everyday stuntin’ nigga
Ducks might get a chance after me
Bitch i’m ballin’
Like i’m comin’ off of free throws
Cuz the head of the game
No cheat codes
Lambo, Roscoe
No street code
And your booty got me lost like Nemo
Go, go, go
G-gon’ and do yo dance
And, i’ma throw this money
While you do it wit no hands
(GO!)

 

        My hoe has a first name its, Y-O-U-S-A; my hoe has a  last name, its B-I-T-C-H! lol. SO between ham and bologna, he only deals with basic bitches. No steak, no filet mignon, hell….not even turkey? This is a classy negro ladies… he will spend the best on his bitches! And I think that he happens to have a fetish with Ducks…..dont go to Disney World and leave him alone with Donald. Trust me…..the water metaphors are freaking me out. And he might not even really like women because he really only talked about himself through the whole verse. Was this to redeem himself for even being apart of this fucked up coonery in the first place? At least he spoke the best English in the song. COONSTATSTIC!

        I tried to find some praise in there… this is how I really feel about this song. Bounce if you must….but this is just HORRIBLE! Okay.. I’m done. Until I get some liquid courage in my system at a private house party and I begin to jam to this. What? I wanna do it with no hands…I’ve been practicing Yoga. lol

Double Negative Error Count

R&B: -6      Rap: -2

 

Sincerely,

~*My Mother’s Daughter*~

 

A Daddy’s Girl and Her Man

   

     Okay, so a stream of entries are coming from conversations that I had with a few of my friends over the Columbus Rediscovering America Day weekend. The topics that pop up are always about male/female relationships and I think several people walk away with a different persepctive….even the guy who’s relationship we think we broke up because we told him his girl was using him….lol. But it had to be true because any time you can get any group of women to come to a 100% agreement on anything, it has to have been an exercise of divine intervention.

        One topic that popped up was that of me being a Daddy’s girl, and I am. After hanging up the phone with my mother during the brunch someone called me a Mama’s girl and I said, no….actually I am very much a Daddy’s girl. Now before you get confused, those who have read my blog faithfully know for a fact that my biological father is not the point of this entry. God blessed me with two wonderful godparents who are the best godparents that anyone could ask for. So…the Daddy that I am referring to is my godfather, but he is very much my father. When I have traveled to see him in Minnesota, you can find my dad and I out and about town cracking jokes, having fun, and he even lets me drive his car…. and my daddy doesn’t play about his cars! Late nights I was in the garage handing him tools as he worked on cars or helping him drill pilot holes into the wood he was using to build a trailer. Yes, I am very much a Daddy’s Girl and proud of it.

        But much to my surprise, all of the guys at the table rolled their eyes and barked at how being a daddy’s girl is far worse than being a mama’s girl because, as her man, he must now compete with the father. First off…. my name is NOT Oedipus. Secondly, that’s just gross. Thirdly, I don’t live in any of the cross-breeding states. Fourthly, I am not an English Royal in the 1700s. And lastly, I hear you…. but I don’t agree with you.

        The guys ganged up on me when I said that yes, there are things that my daddy will always do just the way that I like it. Why did I say that? One of them told me to listen to what he heard when I made that comment. He said that he heard “Yes, I’ll let you cut the grass but my daddy cuts it better.”  Or, “You can pick the restaurant but my daddy knows how to cook my favorite meal better.” I then had to break it down that , in my situation, my daddy is a very wise individual and I didn’t mean it that way.

        My dad is just that….my dad. He is also a wise individual who is quick to put me up on game for the things guys will do, and he will also put me in check when I play games that females play. My dad made it very clear that everyone will not love like him. My dad is a very affectionate, hugging, loving, and communicating kind of father. Every man is not going to fit into that bill. I remember when he and my mom gave me the book “How to Love a Black Man” and told me to read it carefully…. I still own a copy til this day. It helped me understand that even though my daddy communicates with me the best, I need to know how other men communicate as well. Just because my daddy does things the way I like doesn’t make it better, and just because my man has yet to learn doesn’t make it worse, it just makes it different. Being a daddy’s girl with a brilliant daddy helped prepare me for reality and not a fantasy. My man will love differently and if I in turn love him back then the way he loves me is perfect. I don’t try to measure anyone’s love to my dad’s… they could never reach….because they are two separate kinds of love. So I don’t even try to compare. Whomever I’m dating gets measured on his own scale and I cherish each moment, I learn through each moment, and I love him for each moment that he shows me how he loves , through his way, and in his time. There is nothing wrong with that.

        A true daddy’s girl SHOULD know how a man works, his mood, how he will or wont communicate things well, but how he means well all in the same breath. She should know that men could care less about the latest fashions and will never know the difference between pearl and off-white. And she should also know that I love you may never be said out loud, but that a kiss on the forehead, a pat on the back, the sharing of the last bite, and his undying willingness to protect you at all times should suffice in case of emergency or a moment of questioning if you are loved. The things that I learned from my father I have taken with me into relationships. I don’t cook meat in my dad’s vegetarian cookware, I don’t punch the accelerator above 2 in his E Class, I let him go on some very LOOOOOOOONG winded conversations that make my eyes roll in the back of my head but come to appreciate later in a time of need, and when he says he needs a minute….I walk away, but knowing all the while that this is my dad’s temperament and he loves me just the same. My man gets the same courtesy. I am able to separate the two…my dad has my mom to love him in that manner. And did I mention that my name is not Oedipus? So you see, all daddy’s girls aren’t bad…especially if you have an amazing Dad to begin with.

Sincerely,

~*My Mother’s Daughter…..but My Dad’s Girl*~