All Praises Due – Torae & Praise

Torae & Praise - All Praises Due  artwork

All Praises Due

Torae & Praise

Genre: Hip-Hop/Rap

Price: $ 4.99

Release Date: October 11, 2018

© ℗ 2018 Internal Affairs Ent.

iTunes Store: Top Albums in Hip Hop/Rap

A$AP Rocky ft. Skepta “Praise The Lord,” Rita Ora ft. Cardi B “Girls” & More | Daily Visuals 6.6.18

Credit: Dave Bedrosian/Future Image/WENN.com 

A little more than a week ago A$ AP Rocky released his highly anticipated album, Testing, and already he comes through with a video for the album’s standout cut.

Linking up with London grime artist/rapper Skepta for the clip to “Praise The Lord,” Flacko, the split-screen feature showcases both artists in their respective countries to demonstrate just how similar life is in the hood regardless of continent.

On a whole different tip, Rita Ora recruits Cardi B, Bebe Rexha and Charlie XCX to represent for women who prefer female company in the visuals to “Girls.”

Check out the rest of today’s drops including work from Dave East featuring D Jones, Curren$ y and Harry Fraud featuring Smoke DZA, and more.

A$ AP ROCKY FT. SKEPTA – “PRAISE THE LORD”

RITA ORA FT. CARDI B, BEBE REXHA & CHARLIE XCX – “GIRLS”

DAVE EAST FT. D JONES – “FEELIN A WAY”

CURREN$ Y & HARRY FRAUD FT. SMOKE DZA – “14 PACKS”

OG MACO & G.U.N – “MONEY TALK”

DA$ H – “SENSAI”

BIG LENDO – “DIMENSIONS”

REJJIE SNOW – “CHARLIE BROWN”

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50 Cent Talks Bankruptcy, Praise For Eminem & More

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Source: Desiree Navarro / Getty

Now considered an elder statesman in Hip-Hop, Curtis “50 Cent” Jackson has long since found success in lanes outside the music business, and there still appears to be gas left in that tank as well. In a new Q&A interview, Fif breaks down why bankruptcy was a breeze, his praise of Eminem, and much more.

Sitting down with The Guardian, the Den Of Thieves actor has been chopping it up in media circles of late while promoting the film while also remaining an active force on social media.

In the Q&A, 50 opens first about how acting allows him a bit of escapism from his tough guy music persona. He also goes on to admit he learned the craft of acting and handling epic business deals by way of studious observation. The Power star also gave heavy praise to Eminem, who gave 50 a huge look in breaking up out into the world via Shady Records.

“Eminem will always be my guy. I love him to death [Eminem discovered 50 Cent, and produced his first album]. What he did for me – and maybe me for him, in a way – I can’t quantify,” 50 said.

Check out the entire piece by following this link.

Photo: Getty

The Latest Hip-Hop News, Music and Media | Hip-Hop Wired

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An Instrument of Praise – Marcus Stanley

Marcus Stanley - An Instrument of Praise  artwork

An Instrument of Praise

Marcus Stanley

Genre: Instrumental

Price: $ 9.99

Release Date: October 8, 2013

© ℗ 2013 Marcus A. Stanley

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My Reckoning With Recognition and Praise. Me, Madness, Fire and Bukowski

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Last week I published a raw home-movie of my past year leading up to my divorce. I have been in this whirlwind of praise and progress and fighting my inner-dialogue that is often focusing on those who cast stones. I could get lost playing out the cringes, laughs and feigned gag gestures. Instead, I’m going to get lost in the absolute wonder of the unexpected. I knew I’d survive. I knew I’d put those I love first and that my children would be informed. They’d feel respected and showered with supportive love and presence in this transition. I committed to that.

At best, I thought I’d get back on my feet. I’d make some new friends and put one foot in front of the other. It’s what I do. What I was never prepared for (and still can’t quite comprehend.) is that anyone (Not just a friend trying to encourage me!) would be touched or inspired. If I were contrived or creating pretty word for puffery and stories I can deal with that. I often think through story plots, audience reception and conveying a point. I can accept the praise for such writing and feel secure in knowing I created something or worked at it, made blank pages into an experience.

To soul-bare is entirely different. To throw all of it at the screen, paper and into the ether fearlessly was merely an act of self-sustaining. It’s a small rebellion against all notions of “what should be” vs “what I am.” To have my true feelings resonate and compel people to send beautiful letters and stories and love, that I was not ready for. I didn’t make this. I just am. It all feels foreign and surreal.

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I didn’t act in bravery. In fact, I was selfish, lost, bargaining with grief, self-esteem and loss. I lied…to myself, to everyone, and then I stopped lying all together. A bit of a polar flip. I also stood in it, maybe I even took on more than I should have? At this level of self-effacement, what are degrees of shame or blame? These words, are not my best work, they are not even “work. ” They fall out of my fingers like my hair in such stress.

They just are. And I am reeling in the beauty and fear of knowing that all criticisms and judgments usually come from the owner and I, the catalyst, brought it out to surface. So to be fair, Shouldn’t this be my belief with praise? I’m more touched to see so many people find permission and acceptance to let their own strength, truth and self-love bubble up. It is not mine that touches them; it is their own souls feeling heard in my story. It’s overwhelming, and I am beyond gratitude, I am compelled to find a better more revered word to encapsulate how blessed I feel.

I’m still nobody to most. I’m not changing the world and I know how fleeting all things are, so I pause to push myself to just be in it. It will most likely be gone tomorrow or in a month, but today I am inspired. Charles Bukowski was raw, off-putting, lowbrow and in your face. I used to loathe his work. Now, I see his genius is in owning himself. Owning all of it. I hope to stay that honest. To not get beat down by the discomfort of others and to never stop trying. Truth makes me want to be better, kinder, and more flexible. If I never hear another positive word of encouragement, this past week has filled me up. It’s pure and it is petrifying, but I’m going to return it’s power back out to universe, or die trying.

Oh, and lastly take this grammar gods. Some times, not often, but sometimes content outshines the rules.

———————-
“An Almost Made Up Poem.”
by Charles Bukowski

I see you drink­ing at a foun­tain with tiny
blue hands, no, your hands are not tiny
they are small, and the foun­tain is in France
where you wrote me that last let­ter and
I an­swered and nev­er heard from you again.
you used to write in­sane po­ems about
AN­GELS AND GOD, all in up­per case, and you
knew fa­mous artists and most of them
were your lovers, and I wrote back, it’ all right,
go ahead, en­ter their lives, I’ not jealous
be­cause we’ nev­er met. we got close once in
New Or­leans, one half block, but nev­er met, nev­er
touched. so you went with the famous and wrote
about the fa­mous, and, of course, what you found out
is that the fa­mous are wor­ried about
their fame — not the beau­ti­ful young girl in bed
with them, who gives them that, and then awak­ens
in the morn­ing to write up­per case po­ems about
AN­GELS AND GOD. we know God is dead, they’ told
us, but lis­ten­ing to you I wasn’ sure. maybe
it was the up­per case. you were one of the
best fe­male po­ets and I told the pub­lish­ers,
ed­i­tors, ” her, print her, she’ mad but she’
mag­ic. there’ no lie in her fire.” I loved you
like a man loves a wom­an he nev­er touch­es,
on­ly writes to, keeps lit­tle pho­to­graphs of. I would have
loved you more if I had sat in a small room rolling a
cig­a­rette and lis­tened to you piss in the bath­room,
but that didn’ hap­pen. your let­ters got sad­der.
your lovers be­trayed you. kid, I wrote back, all
lovers be­tray. it didn’ help. you said
you had a cry­ing bench and it was by a bridge and
the bridge was over a riv­er and you sat on the cry­ing
bench ev­ery night and wept for the lovers who had
hurt and for­got­ten you. I wrote back but nev­er
heard again. a friend wrote me of your sui­cide
3 or 4 months af­ter it hap­pened. if I had met you
I would prob­a­bly have been un­fair to you or you
to me. it was best like this.

~~~~~~~~~

“Shimmer with a smile. Life is hard, bloom anyway.”

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In Praise Of Women Who Give All The F**ks

amy schumer

Michelle Obama gives zero fucks. Emma Stone gives zero fucks. Cersei Lannister from “Game of Thrones” gives zero fucks. Abolitionist Sojourner Truth gave zero fucks. Pinterest is filled with skinny models wearing “Zero Fucks Given” tanks. Even the women in historical paintings give absolutely zero fucks. We have reached peak lack of fucks given.

There are things we should give fewer fucks about for the sake of self-preservation; certain times where one should hold up the phrase as a mantra to avoid being subsumed by other people’s bullshit. “Give zero fucks” functions like armor, sending a message to the world that we can handle anything that gets thrown at us.

A mob of men harass you on Twitter. Give fewer fucks.

People tell you you’re not qualified enough to do your job. Give fewer fucks.

You grow up learning that you are nothing without male sexual approval. Give fewer fucks.

The world tells you to be skinnier, prettier, better dressed, more “classically beautiful.” Give fewer fucks.

But it also can be deeply exhausting pretending not to give a fuck about everything — and at times, it may prevent us from fully embracing the fucks we do need to give. The simple fact remains: to affect real change, and feel anything deeply, you probably need to give quite a few fucks.

Police gun down an unarmed black man? Give more fucks.

Your right to reproductive health care is still being questioned? Give more fucks.

You got passed over for a promotion you deserved? Give more fucks.

You feel hurt or insulted or overjoyed or loved by another human being? Feel free to Give. A. Fuck.


Maria definitely gave some fucks — ya know, Nazis.

The Internet-ified version of giving zero fucks seems to be embodied by female celebrities like Emma Stone and Jennifer Lawrence, women who are so chill that they float through the world like icebergs. These are badass women to be sure, but their public personas are built around the embodiment of the “cool girl” as defined by Gillian Flynn and Anne Helen Petersen. They eat burgers and flip off the paparazzi (seriously more power to them on both counts), while still maintaining a seemingly effortless ability to be funny and conventionally desirable.

We might be closer to embracing “strong women,” but we also want those “strong women” to have an uncanny ability to “let it go.” Express messy emotion? Probably don’t. Show just how hard you try? Ditto.

Amy Schumer is the queen of giving all the fucks. The comedian and burgeoning feminist icon has put her insecurities, triumphs and political values on display, mining them all for (damn good) comedy. In her May 2014 speech for the Ms. Foundation for Women gala, Schumer described a terrible sexual encounter she had in college — and how easy it is to be stripped of all one’s painstakingly built confidence, even as a successful adult, something that I would wager most human beings can relate to:

I can be reduced to that lost college freshman so quickly sometimes, I want to quit. Not performing, but being a woman altogether. I want to throw my hands in the air, after reading a mean Twitter comment, and say, “All right! You got it. You figured me out. I’m not pretty. I’m not thin. I do not deserve to use my voice. I’ll start wearing a burqa and start waiting tables at a pancake house. All my self-worth is based on what you can see.” But then I think, Fuck that. I am not laying in that freshman year bed anymore ever again. I am a woman with thoughts and questions and shit to say. I say if I’m beautiful. I say if I’m strong. You will not determine my story — I will. I will speak and share and fuck and love and I will never apologize to the frightened millions who resent that they never had it in them to do it. I stand here and I am amazing, for you. Not because of you. I am not who I sleep with. I am not my weight. I am not my mother. I am myself. And I am all of you, and I thank you.

Since when did caring the least about everything — or at least convincingly pretending to — become the most attractive quality a woman could possess? The only way you’re going to be able to rise above and give fewer fucks about the bullshit is if you actually give a fuck about something else.

So I choose to bow down to the women who give all the fucks. Shonda Rhimes. Cheryl Strayed. Janet Mock. Oprah. Lena Dunham. Laverne Cox. Mindy Kaling. Hillary Clinton gives a ton of fucks — she wants to be president. I salute these women and all the others like them who have an unabashed willingness to care — and show it.

Instead of giving fewer fucks to arm ourselves for the bad, let’s give more fucks so we change the bad and better embrace the good.

“The fuck is your life. Answer it,” wrote Strayed in what is arguably her most famous Dear Sugar column.

Give all the fucks you want. You’ll be better for it.

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