Hey Hey, I like her, isn’t that how it starts?

Some posts below, I spazzed in rhyme form to vent my feelings at having my heart broken. I said some out of character, inappropriate, and down right prickish and inaccurate things.  For that, and more, I am truly sorry. This apology was inspired by a closer listening and accidental revisiting of Elzhi’s Euro Pass Album; the track of ‘The Transitional Joint’ in particular.

After a ‘public’ diss, which was a mistake in the first place, I should issued a ‘public’ apology. After criticizing my father for simply explaining his misguided actions and not actually apologizing, claiming that it takes a real man to admit wrong doing and apologize, I felt like a hypocrite for not heeding my own words. So here it is…

It’s been too long, since I
wrote that song
popped some thongs, so I
guess I’ve moved on
there’s still one thing left to say

“yeah that’s right! you’re a sorry sack of sh!t” – you’ll probably think

to which I would reply in recital of Elzhi’s lyrics…bolded lyrics are especially poignant

“Hey, hey I like her
Isn’t that how it starts?
She feel the same y’all came together but you’re now apart since it went sour tart
you got a coward heart
You’re never giving up, thinking all the while it’s smart
It made you ice cold ’cause you gambled and your dice rolled snake eyes
that make guys play, when they twice old
and you thought that you would never trust again
thinking they’re good just for lust and sin and not for busting in
And like the other players where they take us to their lair
then you lay her, there’s not a special person in your prayers
Going through women, some thick, a few slim and
busting out their shirts, others out their blue denim
and there’s a lot of fish in the sea, where you swimming that you could fetch
but wouldn’t think they were a good catch
Till one day that fly one comes along
you think of her off an R&B cut, then hum the song
and get the feeling feeling numb is wrong
when she’s away, you miss her like when the summer’s gone
The place where this coming from is strong
and you trying to fight it. Delighted, when she come around hot and you’re excited
they say you can feel real when you first sight it
Also known as the gift and the curse silent
Get bit by the bug, coping, show a few the symptoms
you fall in love but just before you fell, you were tripping
meaning you were slipping then you got opened
and told her everything, through your body language, it was not spoken
You out with her it’s like you never call your hoes
give her the tallest rose, y’all hit the mall for shows
You stop going to bars
where a baller goes to pop bottles with top models and take off all her clothes
You’re still in denial, but you’re building a smile
when she say she, feeling your style

‘Cause baby girl you got that glow
very, very far from a hood rat and not that hoe
I’m saying you could spot that yo
make you wanna plot at getting her she’s hot that show
‘Cause baby girl got that, got that, got that…..

I will forever regret how I handled that situation. But I won’t dwell on it any longer. Cuz that’s life ain’t it?

Tell’em Frank…remember when I used to sing Frankie to you Green Girl?…those memories are indelible shorty

Live Long and Prosper.

Back to the classy,

Black Ty

Red Eye Ty

she stood approximately 5’8″
more than just beautiful her mind’s great
with aspirations for our time’s sake
thought it impossible, she’s my date?
young winnie mandell,
make my little man swell
crude construct, but the rhyme stands well
when you consider, few could get her
not that she was never scooped
but hearts grow bitter, freeze and splinter
when niggaz riding in them coups

that was then…

this is now…

*shots fired*

she stood approximately 5’8″
ate so much pho, that her mind’s fake
if fib was dude, she would be lies mate
dumb bitches increase the crime rate
young wanna be cantrell
blu, ring many man bell
rude blonde slut, but the facade stands well
when you permit her, soup and dinner
that’s how she devise the doop
thinking of a remix
while she riding in your coup


i’m not bitter, i’m already on to the next one, and having mad fun

just venting, airing out the gas you blew up my ass, scheming lass

Stay Classy Internet,

I’m Black Ty


and this is….


Overdoz – You’re Blowin’ It f. Emon (Video)



TBTaffairs slowly turning into a porn site. j/p

If you think I’m blowing it,  I really don’t care

Love me for the fire I am, not for my potential blaze

Even though I got it, kindle, fuel and rockets,

I got ’em in spades

…cal b whyte

String Theory

In an earlier post this month, I mentioned my frustration when attempting to send a postcard back home to Canada.

I must have deleted the picture of the postcard, but I found the words I typed before writing them on the postcard by hand.

Here they are:

Strings attached.

My Dearest _ovial _lluring _electable _xception*,

There’s a relatively new “theory of everything” in physics called string theory which takes on the lofty challenge of describing the fundamental forces and matter found in our universe and unifying them in one complete, mathematically sound system.

The theory has yet to be proven, but if true, it would mean that there are an infinite number of unending, invisible, yet incredibly powerful threads connecting everything and everyone, everywhere. Even the strings on the face of this postcard, cut in some places, are not cut off from those around it, from the camera which captured their image, or from the photographer who pointed and clicked. All are one. All are connected.

I have ran my fingers over the entirety of this postcard. Thus weaving the strings which run through me, through this card. When it reaches you and you take it in your hand, you will instantly intertwine your strings with my strings, and in a matter of speaking fold time and space so that our hands touch, even if only on a dimensional plane not entirely perceivable by the ordinary human.

But of course, you are far from ordinary*, and I like to think that our bond was forged with some pretty strong thread.

Pull on a string. Can you feel it. We’re attached.

❤ Ty

can you feel it?

Foreign Frustrations

When you fly across the globe to spend time in a strange place, for a long or short time, language is always the first barrier you encounter. I had to deal with this frustration in China as well. Naturally, there is an adjustment period where you start to pick up certain words that will help you survive from day to day (directions, numbers, greetings and goodbyes).

This frustration is acceptable and I know that it is up to me how fast I learn Egyptian Arabic just as it was up to me when I was learning Mandarin.

What really peels my oranges is the apparent ignorance and/or inability of people to accomplish seemingly simple tasks. I thought it might be because I don’t speak the native language that I’m being given the run-around when it comes to me getting what is rightfully mine. But the people I’m dealing with speaking English as well! In some cases, I’m sure that I’m treated differently because I am a foreigner. In other cases, I’ve learnt that some people are just porch monkeys by habit.

I know I’m being vague, and that is for a reason. What I can tell you is that I tried sending a postcard to a great friend of mine and it has now been lost in the system. This friend is held in such high esteem by me that I put a considerable amount of work into ‘jazzing’ up the postcard with my personal aritistic touches. I hand wrote a paragraph that was so long, it really had no business fitting on such a small piece of paper. I hurt my hand and eyes trying to craft this masterpiece.

your word ain't worth shit

When it came time to send the thing. I took my time making sure that I could send it and that it would actually get to its intended destination. I had DHL and FedEx options available to me, but someone here said that I could send it through the normal mail with limited postage and it would still get to Canada; just not nearly as fast.

The speed of the postcards arrival wasn’t that important to me. I figured it would be a welcome arrival in my friend’s mailbox no matter the time or date. So I listened to this local person’s advice and went with him one afternoon to the post office. He asked an officer there where to go to send this international mail,  and yadda yadda yadda, I asked him if he was sure, then asked him to ask the officer is he was sure, both agreed, and I dropped the postcard into a mailbox.

Did it arrive?

A few weeks later the guy who took me to the post office said we went to the wrong post office and put the postcard into the wrong box and that it had probably been lost or thrown out by now. He informed me of this mistake so nonchalantly that I wanted to rip his sandy throat out (like MacGruber would). I refrained from any display of violence of course, and just smiled and said that it was ‘ok’.

I took pictures of the post card, because I guess I knew, never having sent a postcard before, that something like this might happen. I’ll upload them later, if I can find them.

Sorry dear friend of mine (you know who you are). But fret not, I’m not giving up so easily. I have a whole stack of postcards at home. And though you are surely busy back home with this and that, I’m not taking my name out of your hat yet.

I’m going to a black and white ball tonight (sort of) with Egypt’s elite (sort of). I’ll bring my camera along to share the PG moments.

Signing off,

Professor T

Thursdays was the worst days…

It’s been a week off tha piff-la

since cock rock out like stiffla

a voice told me: “avoid the haze mista”

Saying more prayers than ever these days, i kiss the

Good Book, no Bible, talking the one I’m script of

funny how pain turns us all to well-wisha’s

well with uh…, I won’t miss her

Well with a – mere dollar fifty-nine to my name

creditors trying to knock me off my game

hater-bitches, yeah, they tryna do the same

I strive to recall the meaning of my name

so when I stand, and a young warrior remains

But naysayers seeding doubt

not feeling what I’m bout

trying to deny my clout

knock me off my current route

make me wanna Hulk out and smash sum shit

turn these pigs to sous, eat em, then pass a shit

Black Tyrone

…till I’m sipping champagne when I’m thirstay!

Tip posted this on twitter, so I wrote some lyrics to it.

vroom i peel out, dust blocked by mudflaps they shooting on sesame, so i buss back up in the ghetto, i’m bumping heavy metal while sultry soft sax is causing treble on the level word to big bird, he be slapping da bass mudfoot slinging treats, hit my man in the face i swirve, hit curb, bruised instead of enthused fall out, ball out, and i’m making the news

boom went oscar on the organ to strike a cord
the wound was fatal, not be ignored
a little alliteration, absurd abstract
stay awake to ways of the world or out tap
shit is deep
cuz the treats, those were bullets from the tek
the beat, well, was a shotgun blast to the chest
and when all was said done i was the only one
not leaking from an organ, or a fcuking gun

for audio of me spitting on this beat click below:


Black Ty 😉


I spit this through the wire
deli meat piled on the kaiser
no soze, the suspects are unusual
can’t help how they moving you
got you not doing you
watch how you adore them
cuz it’s so haaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrd
pause…to ignore them
We see some flying high off their whips and things
Held up by puppet strings not by angel wings
Forever fronting phonies muppet queens and kings
Yet we still want those toys too!
Your own jealousy annoys you.
Kill that noise dude!
That there’s what little girls and boys do.
You got a choice too!
Timbuktu wasn’t built overnight
Foundations were forged over life
Find the remedies for self-destructive tendencies
And then eventually events that were always meant to be
Will consequentally present themselves to thee
And then you too can measure
Your worth by how many bags ain’t pleather
And how often you can jet away to change the weather
But the true cost to be paid
To be the boss, floss, and get laid
whenever you want moss, stones stay, type made
Is the loss of heart that you impart
Into the causes that touch yo!
Before yo! touched dough
So Ty, when you feel uninspired, tired,
Unadmired, even undesired or just bleh
Remember the mission mother fucker and adjust step
Cuz doing the right thang might require you to turn left
Live on through the words lil’ brother and cheat death

[insert battle cry here]

Bliggity-Black Ty y’all!


It’s weird how someone’s opinion can throw you off your game so much.

I am feeling uninspired today.

Feeling like one of the millions of clones manufactured on Kubino to fight for the Old Republic, and newer Empire.

Not feeling very Jango Fett right now…ya dig?

I’m hoping Octavia E. Butler’s Kindred can stir something up…


Gimmick and Mimic Men

What’s your gimmick?

How you spit it?

How you flip it?

What’s your angle?

You’re Mr. B0-Jangles?

Or do you hand out mangled, threats?

warning your foes about strangled, necks?

Face contorted and twisted toting, tecks

What else? What’s next?

What you wear on your vest?

Superman, Hulk-types biggin up your chest

or maybe you’re not Bruce

You Duece, braggin, you loose

Not pumping up your chest

But humping up some mess

you say fuck a caress!

ma lif up ya dress!

Leave your complaints bout stress…at the door

let’s not fool ourselves, I’m a pimp, youza whore

Anything else, is there anything more?

Oh yeah, youza keep it real cat

born 89, yet steady with the boom bap

wrist bands and nap sacks

ones, twos, and vinyl racks

making the past last

your gold, is their trash

spinning on your head

break dancing till you’re dead

1990 windmill, spin go head, flare if you dare

Battle on wax tracks, and on cardboard mats

graffiti on the side or everything stating random facts

spraying yourself and laying your tag

cops come and you’ve got paint-stained hands

woop! woop! that’s the sound, pull up your pants

here comes the mans

aww damn you caught…cops harrassin’

fuck you! you fart! you steady blastin’

cuz you see it as art

It ain’t no scandal, I ain’t no vandal!

You’re a college student, slacks securely on your waist

shirt tucked in, black, but passing for white in the place

and you acting, trying to fit in, forgetting your face

steel bars enclose you, you wasn’t face enough

Allah enrolls you, you’re a diamond in the rough