Pen and Pad

MC FÜBB - Pen and Pad from MC FUBB on Vimeo.

“…if we pay close enough attention to the signs, then they do appear/

and guide us towards the rivers of life – it’s all fluid there/

if there’s a destiny to fulfill, we must do it there/

put my pen to pad, receive courage and march through the fear…”

More than just a book of rhymes, Toronto hip hop artist MC FÜBB views his notebook as a place to capture his authentic self – a vessel for his soul’s expression. In “Pen and Pad,” a spoken word/acapella rap piece + video, FÜBB explores the role that writing poetry and lyrics plays as he works to contextualize his life, making sense of past hardships, acknowledging his present circumstances, and working towards his vision for the future. More than just a reflection on his own life, “Pen and Pad” is a piece that encourages listeners to think about their own purpose in the world, as MC FÜBB says:

“It’s about more than just me and what I’m dealing with – it’s about where we’re heading collectively as human beings. I don’t think I’m unique in asking the questions I’m asking about purpose or how to be at home in the world; all of us deal with these existential yearnings at some level. My role as an emcee, and even more primarily as a poet, is to express these feelings in ways that perhaps most people don’t yet have access to. To write unwritten truths and speak unspoken knowledge – that’s my job as a poet and an emcee.”

The video for "Pen and Pad" is the second spoken word/acapella rap video that MC FÜBB has released in anticipation of his upcoming EP, the poet, which will drop in late 2012.

Written and performed by: MC FÜBB

http://www.mcfubb.com

@MCFUBB

Cinematography by: Evan Ciniello for StreetCar Creative

http://www.facebook.com/StreetCarCreative

@EvanCiniello

The Path

Lyrics for "The Path” feat. Mike Devine (produced by Junia T) - lead single on the poet EP:

VERSE 1:

I saw my life painted on a canvas

strayed from my path and then the picture vanished

did a bit of damage

tried to put it down, but life without raps – I can’t manage

now I’m feeling famished                                                                      

hungry for a bigger life, thirsty for a broader dream

now at least I sleep nights not toking like a fiend

and though I’m grateful for that, I can’t stop moving

when I’m making progress the only time I’m not losing                                              

six years since I stopped boozing – for what?

so I could relax and lay in the cut? nah – fuck that

can’t live my life without momentum like a drum track

keep my skills sharp like the tip of a thumbtack                                                              

I know that there’s battles ahead, I won’t run from

though I feel cut from my Roots – my life “Undun”

but from this place, spitting out distaste

refuse to live my life in the shadow of disgrace                                        

the race of a thousand souls, what is fifth place?

when only one or two can shine, what is it we chase?

life ain’t an iPhone, you can’t replace

years gone by or the time you waste                              

staring in the mirror, tryna analyze my face

the man that grew from a boy,

now it’s build or destroy

I guess it’s time to put away old toys

on this journey tryna find my voice                            

CHORUS:

seeing my dreams as I create that

ain’t no rehearsal and ain’t no take backs

blessed with a gift and I’ve got to show it

ain’t no glory on the path of a poet

I know that time don’t wait for no man

gotta stay focused on where I’m goin’

where this road leads is not for knowin’

try to keep faith and enjoy the moment

VERSE 2:

consumed by thoughts that aren’t theirs

pursuing wares that ain’t fit for the wear

walking through life sometimes I stop and stare

I’m looking for that soul but it just ain’t there

try to numb out but I really do care

what’s the point of keeping score when nothing is fair?

sometimes I wish that I wasn’t so aware

but I know what I know, I gotta spit it and the message is rare                           

we are much more than they ever said we were, unsure

of whether we can live out our dreams, cliché as it seems

I believe that we need to achieve

our utmost, to bear fruits on these branches of leaves                                    

(so) caught up in all that we receive

we refuse to pay attention to the things that the world really needs

we hiding in the night like thieves

looking for ways to get a buzz but we’re never relieved              

we can’t relax, losing real estate in our minds – Remax

try to do better but we tend to relapse

where are we goin? we gotta take a look where we at

we can’t grow from where we ain’t, we’re not sinners or saints

we’re in between like the colour between purple and green

it’s all blue, the distance between me and you

real recognize real, real recognize the fake too

but I don’t hate you…

CHORUS:

seeing my dreams as I create that

ain’t no rehearsal and ain’t no take backs

blessed with a gift and I’ve got to show it

ain’t no glory on the path of a poet

I know that time don’t wait for no man

gotta stay focused on where I’m goin’

where this road leads is not for knowin’

try to keep faith and enjoy the moment

VERSE 3:

moments yeah they pass by

sometimes miss ‘em like I got two glass eyes

everybody hustle hard, tryna live ‘em fast lives

half the time talking in tongues, speaking fast lies

overly familiar like past-lives                                                         

feeling like I been here before, is this a failed attempt

to live a glorious life, or am I just exempt

from the mediocrity of averages

that we all condone while ignoring the savageness                                           

honestly, I don’t how to handle this

sometimes lost in my ramblings, searching for advantages

tryna manage my own career without management

half my time spent tryna recoup my damages

so what’s the sense in it

when everything’s an expense and that I keep on investing in

self-interest vested in

laying out my soul over beats and manifesting it

struggling’s the method that my character is tested in                                      

not just another rap specimen

a poet that grew from walking the path of lesser men

from the fog I was in to way out of my element

I still resist this road to my detriment                            

I got a soul sickness – this art is my medicine

so I’ma play my part and shine light like Edison

but I’ve learned to keep my pace steady-and

anything less than my God given purpose I’m not settling

CHORUS:

seeing my dreams as I create that

ain’t no rehearsal and ain’t no take backs

blessed with a gift and I’ve got to show it

ain’t no glory on the path of a poet

I know that time don’t wait for no man

gotta stay focused on where I’m goin’

where this road leads is not for knowin’

try to keep faith and enjoy the moment

Pen and Pad

the pen and my pad my refuge from solipsism

when I’ve dwelled in my self-made prison for too long,

pen to the pad as I write another song

‘cause without it my life just feels wrong…

reminiscing on days I spent living from a bong

lighting cherries that buried my soul, losing control,

lying to myself,

I was the opposite of strong,

I thank God that those days are gone

I ain’t arrogant enough to think I can’t return

to the place where my fingertips burned

but I’ve learned

if I day at a time I stay focused on my rhymes,

meditate and pray when it’s time to clear my mind

I can find a bit of peace on this earth,

for what it’s worth

I’ve been walking this path since my birth,

since before I crawled;

since before I was born,

I heard my name called,

said I was needed to deflate the conceited –

that’s what I came for

yet I need to stay humble and grateful,

keep the poison from my lips because it’s distasteful

and above all else never be hateful,

‘cause my brother told me that there’s nothing below that,

a sapling from the tree of life,

I’m tryna grow that,

when I put my pen to the pad is how I show that,

and I need to be patient – I know that,

but it’s hard when what I’m seeing all around me is so wack,

sometimes the past beckons to me,

I can’t go back

I’m looking at future moments, wishing I could hold that

I know my presence lives in the present,

that’s where my power lies,

if I look too far ahead then I’m paralyzed,

living out my legacy while staring through this pair of eyes,

already seen the truth – I ain’t scared of lies,

most living like they’ll be here forever –

that’s where the error lies,

their dreams sautéing on the back burner until they’re caramelized

my pen and pad are the only things I’ve ever truly owned,

even this life that I call my own is on lease,

I put what I know in a poem and I release

everything I’ve been keeping inside, I set free,

on the path of a poet, the only thing left to be

is me,

sometimes the hardest thing to see

is that which is lovely

in a world that can be so ugly,

but if you look deep enough, you must agree

that if we

pay close enough attention to the signs, then they do appear

and guide us to the rivers of life – it’s all fluid there,

if there’s a destiny to fulfill, we must do it there,

put my pen to pad,

receive courage and march through the fear.

the poet

he sits alone,
surrounded by dozens of sheets
of crumpled, torn, and crinkled paper,

scribbles of words and fragments of sentences

littering the space between the lines,

some of them boring, cliché verses,

the odd one or two works of genius.

the echoes of words from

Kipling, Eliot, Cummings, Crane, and Morris Granatstein,

line from Rakim, Mos Def, Kweli, Common, KRS-ONE, and Guru

reverberate in his skull,

sweeping over his brain,

trickling into his soul.

he gets quiet,

sits, listens,

breathes, and feels

drops of his spirit

bleed out of the pen’s tip

and stain the notebook in his hand;

poetry, prose, lyrics

all fuse into one substance

as the streets he’s walked,

the sweat and tears he’s lost

and the victories won,

come rushing back like winds

with the power to change the course

of a river’s flows,

just for an instant,

as he writes.