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 ©
Tony Adamo
|