from the vault-the gza at uoft-november 15, 2013

it was odb’s birthday and a near-riot when too many people showed up to the auditorium. a neo-classic rap show in the way that it was in a classroom, and also because we were gathered for a wu-tang member to drop science (he had just come from speaking at nasa that week).

in my quest for perpetual catalogue and organization (that zodiac pie chart was bang-on, props to whomever came up with it), i have decided that before i pack away this organizer that i stretched over two years, i had to transcribe the following notes from that wonder-full day.

let’s start with an acronym (obvi, it’s a wu-tang party) and go from there:

PROJECTS=people relying on just enough cash to survive

-“we wanted the best concepts-it’s different these days”

-“a lot of artists claim their music is just for the hood, or for girls, or for hard core thugs, when your music should be for everyone”

-“it’s quite compelling to be composed of the same matter as the stars”

-“there are not that many geniuses that refer to themselves as geniuses…”

-“that depends, are you playing on a clock? i have a brother who used to play with his son, and he was incarcerated so they used to play by letters-every letter was a move.”

-“you still have to work and get a job and pay your bills”

-a hesitant boy approached the mic to ask a question about kendrick lamar’s control verse to teeth sucking, starting, “uh, mister gza…”

-“if he feels he’s the king of new york, cool. run dmc once said they were the kings of rock. they didn’t have guns and roses and aerosmith and those guys coming at them.”

in my notes are also the following details on the ambiance:

mindbender looks upset
-me and joe whooped for pinball
-everyone acapella’d the words to c.r.e.a.m. and it reminded me of the j cole concert where everyone knew the words and wasn’t afraid to say them together and aloud
-ws were constantly been thrown up, and someone was blazing (in a classroom at uoft)

and, the sentence to sum it all up:

“the little prince in my purse, anger pouring out of my skin (it must have been a particularly eczema-ey time) and gza on the podium-whut whut?!”

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