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Directors cut Cad Jax Spoken Word Vid Shoot
(Lights dim, a single spotlight illuminates the speaker. A beat drops, subtle and rhythmic.) Cad Jax. Yeah, that name hummed with the city's pulse, a neon flicker in the back alley of your mind/ (A slight snap of the fingers) He was Mr. Flow, man, pure, uncut man on the go/ Had a ride that whispered promises of asphalt freedom, a chrome-plated whisper stretched long and low, hungry for the open road/ (The beat intensifies slightly) The ladies dug him/ dug the swagger, the glint in his eye that held secrets and late-night passion with no promises/ His pockets? fuhgeddaboudit overflowing with Franklin’s fat with the green whisper of possibility/ Dough, man, he swam in it/ (A pause for emphasis) Superfine cloths, silk that dripped like honey, tailoring sharp enough to cut glass/ Diamond rings, catching the light like stolen stars, flashing a message/ I made it/ Alligator shoes, gleaming menacingly, pacing the concrete jungle. And that cane… that skull walkin' cane, bone-white ivory grin, a silent companion, a reminder of where he came from/ or to beat you down dead/ (Voice deepens, a hint of grit) Man, this cat was a knockout/ women said he took your breath away and left you dizzy/ Grown men were envious and had a strange kind of respect for Cad Jax/ He always had the game/ knew the angles like a pool shark, saw the weaknesses, and played the hand he was dealt with a surgeon's precision and a hustler's heart/ (Beat shifts, a darker undertone) Cad Jax grew up hustlin' down in the gut of the hood. flippin’ cards, shootin’ dice, sellin' a high/ Runnin' numbers... for downtown Mick/ a web of loyalty and betrayal, a delicate dance with the devil/ He was never far from the clatter of a movie soundtrack to broken dreams and desperate hopes/ Low-down funky dope bars, reeking of cheap whiskey and regret, the soul-jazz organ crying in the corner/ that was his young life but never behind bars/ (Voice lowers, almost a whisper) Cad Jax… he was in the flow, alright. but even the strongest current can drag you under/ like quicksand all around you/ and the city? The city will always remember the legend, Mr. Dynomite Cad Jax…
Copyright © 2025 Tony Adamo. All Rights Reserved

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry