Rap & Rape Culture: Rick Ross

So, over a month ago to date, I was trolling my Twitter timeline and came across an update by @Hollywoodheat that contained a link to the latest(at that time) release by Rocco featuring Rick Ross entitled”U.O.E.N.O.”. As I am always, more than not, known to give any song a shot, I played the hypnotic bass line and witty hook laden track. I was nodding along until I heard Rick Ross state, “Put molly all in her champagne/She ain’t even know it/I took her home and I enjoyed that/She ain’t even know it.” I was completely swamped in a wave of incredulity. I immediately made updates to Twitter and told Bri(@BShariseMoore) about the lyrics. It would take over a month before most of the Black blogosphere and celebrated academic figures would strum up enough attention to the statements for Rick Ross to feel the need to reply.



it is never acceptable to drug a woman and have sex with her while unconscious.
My initial reaction to the lyrics is mainly informed by an understanding that no matter the legal ramifications involved, it is never acceptable to drug a woman and have sex with her while unconscious. I have read the defense of Rick Ross that “mollies” are not depressants, but my rebuttal is that Rick Ross is a salesperson that is selling an image laced with whatever verbiage the listener can presently relate to. His use of the term “molly” is not so much important as him stating in his story line that the woman he is discussing does not know he has drugged her, and his implication that he has “enjoyed” this woman, that by implication of the drugging, is too intoxicated, or unconscious, to know she is being “enjoyed”. These are Ricky Ross’ words, not mine. This is the story line, regardless of whatever loose interpreted contradictions might be interjected with respect to the effects of a “molly”. The damn “molly” is not important. The idea of cowardly drugging a woman without her knowing and “enjoying” her without her knowing based on the degree of her intoxication per the lyrics is what is salient here.



The second argument is from the guy known affectionately as ‘Officer Ricky Ross’ him Self. According to the interview, he states that he did not use the term “rape”. This is, fundamentally, one of the overall concerns addressed in the discussions built to attack rape culture. The idea is that most men, and more importantly, young men that one day will grow into older men, do not have an understanding of what rape consists of outside of an overtly aggressive physical use of force. For more than too many of us men, Rick Ross does not appear to showing (as opposed to telling) us a rape scene via his lyrics, and yet, this is exactly what he has done.
Rape is any act whereby there is a party that has not consented.
Rape is any act whereby there is a party that has not consented. “Consent” is not just stating a “yes” or even looking as though one might be going along. A significant other that refuses to have sex, but is coerced into the act for fear of whichever reason a significant other might be manipulated by. In the same vein that many endure the most vehement forms of domestic violence, a person can be raped by a significant other, or spouse. There Is never a justification for rape. The debate that I eschew the most is the one where I have to concede that there is a posture that even Black men have to accept as privilege when we imbibe the Western White aggressive culture that says “sex is a form of conquer” and that “men are entitled to sex from women”. And these thoughts appear not just in underground rap culture, but also in the thinking of middle class USA.



Rick Ross paints the picture of status possessing, entertainer “enjoying” the night-life where any woman that he wants to “enjoy” is mere item in a vending machine. He pops in the coins, and she swirls out for his disposal. The manner in which he “pops in coins” is that he intoxicates the woman without her knowing. In this same manner, high school age males dragged, carried, and swung the intoxicated body of a sixteen year old girl throughout their town, delivering her in what should have been tried as a kidnapping from place to place to be raped and violated. This incident is no different than what Rick Ross depicts in his lyrics. A rape committed by intentionally getting a woman intoxicated and “enjoying” her while she is too inebriated to know. The overall question is not whether Rick Ross “needs” to rape a woman or not, it is why we have allowed a culture that Jay-Z calls its “white hot” demographic 15 year olds to be so callous that Rick Ross feels no compunction painting an image with him Self as main agent raping a woman.

Twisted “Miss” Ogyny

In a nation where political correctness is taught like ABC’s, I’m pretty much not giving a fuck about none of that.


I’m coming straight off the top about what we have allowed because people let their confusion run rampant in the streets. I have witnessed a number of homosexual men and transvestites trip, losing all of what is left of their given senses and disrespect women to a level that makes me say “enough is enough.”


This could potentially go into all the gay rights and civil liberties and all that but I won’t because I know some of ya’ll sensitive and I really prefer to stay out of your delusion. But this right here, it has to be addressed. Many homosexual men have found allies in women as they want to identify with our gender so much. The overemphasis in speech and gestures, the feelings of needing to compensate through compliments on all of our physicality…we see through all of that and while we look like “Nigga please” we still support because we are that loyal to men; that even in their rejection of our womanhood yet desire to assume it, we still offer the feminine aspect that they will never have. That’s what women do. We’re just trill like that.


However, don’t get it twisted “boo boo” as I hear some of my sistas say. And that especially goes for those men who like to play dress up and go so far as to have their dick flipped inside out: you are not a woman so don’t try me. To be so comfortable that you continue to take the assumed authority of being “cross-gendered” and play both sides by being effeminate when challenged by men and masculine when challenged by women…look, bruh: know your role. With a world that has taken the mere idea of a woman and beaten her design to a pulp; to sell her as a commodity for sex; to put fear into her so much as she keeps silent about being raped or sexually assaulted, the last thing that we EVER wanna deal with is a man who is between ideas about who he is, disrespecting the very concept that he wants to be.


Misogyny is real. Men, both hetero- and homosexual have taken their dicks and fucked us as if we don’t exist. Now, let this be known, in the war that is occurring in this realm both physical and spiritual, there ain’t too much room left to be “nice.” Now, for you men who are laying down, do what you do: that ain’t my ass to worry about. But please be aware that you are a man, regardless of what you do and we are women. There will be no disrespect because in all realness, we’re probably your last ally on this god-forsaken earth…so don’t push us. We won’t be so open-minded that our brains fall out.


I’m sleep tho.

Video: Miss Little Lunch Lady(Do You Know What Your Children Ate For School Lunch Today?)



Bridget(B. Sharise Moore{ @BshariseMoore follow her on Twitter} wrote a piece some years back that resonates with many of the conversations surrounding education, public schooling specifically, and the layered connections of poverty, prison sentences, and publicly provided education, as well as the food industry. The audio production was done by David (DWest) West of the Indiana Pacers and Zeke, and I provided the visuals. The poem is rich with discussion worthy lines, and I do expect that you will leave a comment.





This poem, (as well as B. Sharise Moore’s “Violins & Bullies”), is featured on B. Sharise Moore’s “Peacocks Feathers & Ruby Slippered Souls” which can be purchased via Paypal by clicking the image above.

My Love/Hate Relationship With Twitter

It’s official—I hate Twitter again.


For quite some time I’ve had a love-hate relationship with Twitter, manic tweeting one minute, closing my account the next. I’ve been trying to figure out why I hate Twitter since early 2012. I think I may have finally figured it out: Groupthink.

While I cannot say Erykah Badu is the originator of the concept, I can thank her for this word’s rise in popularity; but maybe this is also why the act of “Groupthink” is also at an all-time high, especially on Twitter. With the “13 Holy War,” and the perpetually repetitive and depressing topics discussed via #BlackTwitter (amongst the many other volatile exchanges happening daily), it’s no wonder why I’ve left a shell of an account on Twitter. It’s all starting to remind me of church….and I cannot stand the concept of church (although I’ll visit if the mood calls for it).


“Don’t say that!” “You should speak on or fight for this cause.” “That’s too abrasive!” “You shouldn’t feel this way.” Really? How should I feel? Should I feel like you? Would that make you feel better about yourself, to have someone agree with your thoughts? Perhaps this is a form of insecurity, the desire to have others agree with your logic.


There is no longer room to just breathe and be on Twitter. Everything one says can be twisted, turned against a person, and is up for debate. But here’s the problem…I don’t feel the need to debate, nor do I feel the need to “explain” my feelings. I am beyond explaining myself to motherfuckers who are so offended and filled with anger that they wouldn’t understand my explanation anyway. I’m over it. I’m over the obligation Twitter, especially Black Twitter, places on people to be an “example,” a role model, and all of the above. I am no damn saint, I am no one’s role model, I am no one’s teacher, mentor, spokesperson or any of that shit.


Yes, you’re a Vegan, but you’re still an asshole.

In possession of a degree or two? Congratulations! You’re still an asshole.

You can spell, and must constantly prove your prowess by correcting the spelling and grammar of others. The only thing this proves…is that you’re an insecure asshole.

Yes, you have thousands of followers, but guess what? You’re still an asshole…a closed-minded asshole with dingle berries hanging from your anus.

And please, tell me, does being an asshole via Twitter pay well? I certainly hope so.


Ever feel that pit in your stomach when someone on Twitter starts a beef with you and calculate how long it takes to let that “upset” pass through your system? THAT angers me. Allowing a person on Twitter—who I’ll likely never meet, who hasn’t bought my music, supported my business, and may be a degenerate, little dicked dweeb or a low-budget crack whore in person—to have an effect on my mood angers ME more than anything, because then I am wasting energy and time trying to get back to my happy place, talking myself down with “it’s just Twitter.” But it ISN’T just Twitter! It’s people, from all over the world, clinging to your every word, adding meaning where there is sometimes none, and wanting to lecture you on how you should express yourself; and there is nothing I hate more than people trying to control my self-expression. Like I said, I don’t do church.

A Bottle of Juice and Pack of Skittles…

“A bottle of juice is no excuse, the truth hurts…”- Tupac Shakur



Latasha Harlins was killed having a bottle of orange juice in her backpack.


On March 16, 1991, Latasha Harlins was murdered for defending her Self after being harassed by a Korean store owner that erroneously thought Latasha was attempting to take a bottle of orange juice without paying for it. Latasha was murdered at the age of 15 in Los Angeles, California. Her murder inspired West Coast musician and one of the co-members of the original NWA and Posse, Ice Cube, to pen and produce, “Black Korea” on his 1991 classic, “Death Certificate” where Great Khalid Muhammad also delivered uplifting and awareness raising poetry. It has been claimed that the murder of Latasha was one of many impetus for 1992’s L.A. uprisings by local Afkan(Afrikan Amerikkkan) citizens.


Latasha’s killer, Soon Ja Du, 51 years old, would be found guilty of voluntary manslaughter after leveling Latasha’s body and leaving young Latasha’s body to begin rigor mortis in her hands around two dollar bills. Du would only be sentenced to 5 years of probation, 400 hours of community service, and a $500 fine.


That was March 1991. In March 2012…


During halftime of this year’s(2012) NBA All-Star Game, Trayvon Martin, a 17 year young high school Junior of a Miami community visiting his father in Sanford, Florida was on his way from a convenience store. According to reports, Trayvon went to said store with intentions of purchasing candy for his younger sibling. While in route back, young Trayvon was stalked by Anglo or European-American militant white terrororist, George Zimmerman. Zimmerman, a 26 year old college student and leader of a United States terrorist cell, The Retreat.


Zimmerman, while stalking young Trayvon, placed a call to police, alerting them that he might have a potential threat to his post. Soon, 17 year young Trayvon would be dead from a 9mm gun shot from Zimmerman’s 9mm gun. Although, Zimmerman was on a police call wrestling and shooting Trayvon, he has not been arrested as of time of this writing. Sanford police department has not filed an arrest or case for Zimmerman and thus the State Attorney’s OFfice has decided to play coy and not investigate matters either. Zimmerman was questioned by Sanford police and released after their “interrogation”. Now, you know, had little Trayvon been white, and Zimmerman Black…


There has been an online petition initiated to garner attention into this murder of young Trayvon. Please visit, http://www.change.org/petitions/lets-get-justice-for-trayvon-martin in hopes that we can do just one little thing to help bring attention to this persistent slaughter of our children. I would ask that you electronically sign this petition, as well as whatever bit of support you might be able to administer in bringing awareness to this travesty of human justice. I am not sure whether Afkan(Afrikan Amerikkkan) people are unwelcome or what not in this gated community, but those that perform decision making routines around there carry semi-automatic weapons without concern for age of those they murder.


Please be safe if you are walking around in dark skin.

“Zimmerman, an adult, had a gun. Trayvon Martin, a 17-year-old, had Skittles. No way you can say self-defense.” – Benjamin Crump, Family Attorney of Trayvon Martin’s Father