ONE THOUSANDA JOURNAL OF HIP HOP SONGWRITING

ISSUE #1001

Featuring:Homeboy SandmanOddisseeStik FigaShadQwelyU

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where life lives

looking for monday? neither are we.

FRI SAT SUN SUNSATFRI FRI

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where life lives

looking for monday? neither are we.

FRI SAT SUN SUNSATFRI FRI

Art

Dir

ecti

on a

nd C

opy

by C

hris

Ric

hard

son

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1000 is a journal of dual purpose. First and foremost it serves as a platform to showcase the under appreciated art form of songwriting in Hip Hop. It serves to strip down the complex lyrics to the bare words in order to disarm the reader from the preconceived prejudices that accompany many viewpoints on Hip Hop. In this form a larger audience can appreciate the wordplay and imagery apparent in the words.

ONE THOUSAND

Second, it’s a printed showcase for the work of Chris Richardson and Quinn Williams. The page layouts, illustrations, photo manipulations and advertisements are by Chris Richardson with the remainder of the print advertising work by Quinn Williams. And the photography is the property of it’s respective owners .We hope you truly enjoy both the work of the music artists, as well as the designers. To find more of the same, visit: grizzlidesign.co & quinnwilldesign.com.

1000-5Art Direction by Quinn Wil l iams and Copy by Chris Richardson

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where the drum roll, numskull

aint you seen the white horse aint you smell the gun smoke

funds low these bums broke

chatting with Colombo

peeling back the moon roof

and now my skin is sun soaked

aint no rocket science but I need space

From the album, “Under the City” by Stik Figa & L’Orange

aint been to compliant mama saying that I need faith

being self-reliant we just ash when they cremate

go ahead and pick a star which one would you replace

balls full of gas

they don’t even need names earth’s about the cash

working on a pre-paid flame to the glass

inhale and then relieve pain life a lot of things

she aint never been no cheap date

slave in a free state discovering the cupboards dry

listen to the engine putter brother give another try

pop mutters baby sucking on her mother’s for another night

gunfire is another lullaby

BLIND TIGER

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Fro

m th

e al

bum

, “F

irst

of a

Liv

ing

Bre

ed”

b

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andm

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.................................................People ask me if my life changed......................................................................Here’s what I might say......................................................................................................Not really......................................................................................................Not really

Far as money I was always out....................................................Now it’s always money coming in................................................I never worry about money now...................................................I never worried about money then............................................... I still don’t let nothing go to waste..............................................Leftovers any given day......................................................................I spend about the same......................................................................There’s just a lot more left over to give a way.................... It occurred to me one show.............................................................I’m on stage where I used to be in the front row..............That’s like a ten foot distance.........................................................It’s not a really big difference..........................................................

Same guidelines as far as being the bigger man................Staying away from the yellow snow..........................................I’m still Black Thought’s biggest fan............................................Just now I can call and tell him so...............................................

NO

T R

EALL

Y

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Exactly what I’m all about and Fam, now where would I be if I was without them Somewhere strugglin & hustlin hard I put my trust in God, besides that I fear nothing Up against

Tremendous odds, but I knowThat nothing comes easy, it’s called survival Why should I be tired fo, when goals are unacomplished Just living and walkin wit a purpose Prospering off

What I’ve learned I gotta earn my crown then The bread’ll keep piling, I’m determined, brown and I’m proud as the lion & the pack he was down with My drive, experienced like it was mileage

The earth is round, I go beyond where the clouds is I’m trynna rock crowds somewhere up in the thousands Been down, since up was outta range Alotta pain, gotta gain, not a game, alotta ways, I became

A modern king humble of today see I take speech seriously, cuz your words reach The whole world if you’re doing it right We make a difference, my mission, upliftment, u wit it?

Cool Let’s get it, I’ll be willing to the finish Very vintage and I carry lyrics, strength in every sentence Studying this like a college and You’ll never catch me following or borrowing, I’ve got to send this one out

From the album, “The Earn” by yU

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EVEN IF

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I’m not sure why But um

Things seem different now You know?

She practically handed me the assThat I could care less

Because she lacked classThe fitting of her dress would of had me at 21

Its funny sonJust a few years older more revealings less appealing

And I’m more into shouldersAnd other subtleties

I’m in the house more Thus I’m out less

I’m less concerned with rocking fits that ain’t out yetI’m still about fresh

But not my tennis shoes more about my fruit and vegI decorate my crib

My homie’s couch lessThat ain’t the way I live

At least lately the life of a bachelor seems crazyI went from cold pizza and old FIFA

To seeing goals scored in person at low bleachersSo lazy the youth in me I use to be

I use to like a one night standNow I’m all up in her house like there ain’t one nice lamp

From the album, “Helpless Dreamer”

by Mello Music Group, performed by Oddissee

DIF-FER-ENT NOW

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rap genius - heads sayin he should blow (he should tho) rap genius - got good quotes and footnotes

look - who else spittin the most urgent most soul-searchin perfectly dope verses

and no curses ask any analyst, journalist, panelist

whos canada’s unimanimous circa 98 canibus ambulance vans when my jams spin - it’s calamitous

sendin bands into banishment dammit i need no laminate - yall know the name

im the rap game villain shad k. back stage in the bat cave chillin

bumpin bad brains with a bad dame wheelin in the fast lane

rugrat still these cats cant kill him kids talkin bout, “i just need a co-sign - one break!”

all i need’s a drum break and one take im unsafe - yall soft as sunday brunch dates with bundt cake

got crowds jumpin like i just done a pump fake man this is just 1/8th - just a morsel

i got more flows yall just mortals, even moreso

this is morse code from the north pole to warn folks:

the storm crow’s comin thru your war zone lords knows i was born dope

FIREFrom the album,

“Boarding Pass EP”by Shad

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goin back like corn rows i amaze (i am maize) like corn rows pure jokes still i can rage like hormones im a oracle, im next level: warp zone the forbes shows what they net but im more gross - sick as a sore throat the kid isnt normal hard core flows but he spit with a warm tone the whip isnt much but his chick is a norah jones im eatin all yall food by the fork load golden arches or ol girl with the orange fro no actually i’ll have your pork roast and orzo make a short toast then pop the cork off the bordeaux i could hold court with the foremost i could tour coasts or teach a course load at the sorbonne forget 4 bars - every quarter note’s historical when i perform poems im a force, im a horror show man im in my z---, im in your zone im on your porch, in your home takin everything like it foreclosed just me and t stakin claims, takin names i guess some things stay the same still the champ

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Art

Dir

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by Q

uinn

Will

iam

s

1000-17Art Direction and Copy by Quinn Wil l iams

thewhipost.tumblr.com

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Man I seen this sleek graff piece Of Japanese baby shadows blasted black back against the foundation of half cracked knees How could the artist catch the perfect and exact beauty of the little faces From 10,000 stacked feet

Cynical laugh Must of had mad reach, Flash freeze frame, made efforts remembered to paint the faded jump rope froze in half leap Man’s canvas masterpiece, banana ants and apathy Hands danced to slash thick apple on this last patch of green

Fat squeeze the master painter heard the ground cry out black streaks Deep ash piles of salmon pink and sweet corn yellow Rusty red dragon stabbed across my sky so subtle Greasy cobalt streaks from black squares, puddles of pear bubbles

Puncture holes double as burgundy moons over dim plum meadows Mint stamped oasis and gray aphids of charcoal statistics Scraping scarlet across mustard crust, maroon and hunter critics Purple mistress circles of tin spin under burnt umber crimson

Instances of living under vivid lemon wings with quick orange flickers Flash! Ripped the canvas in his mouth in his coarse grin full of slivers To join the outer phoenix with the inner, seen it Initialed with white warm splinters, scenic

From the album, “Dark Day”, by Qwel & Jackson Jones

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VINCENT VAN GOGH COKE AD

1000-20 Art Direction by Quinn Wil l iams and Copy by Chris Richardson