40 Bars, No Hook

Dr. Beardhussein Gets His Rap On

It’s Go Time


What some people may or may not know about me, is that for a long, long time I was depressed out of my mind. I was somewhere in between “Just A Shitty Stretch Of Bad Luck” and “Maybe You Should Talk To Someone” depressed. Thankfully, I was never in “You Should Be On Meds” depressed, nor was I ever in real danger of venturing into “Hey, You Know What’d Be Awesome? If I Started Cutting Myself” depressed.

I say thankfully because I know people that are not that lucky. Some of my closest friends are dealing with one or all of those kinds of depression, and it’s a motherfucker. You’re powerless to do anything except physically restrain them and keep them from hurting themselves physically or sabotaging their lives so egregiously that they might not be able to come back from it.

Those kinds of depression are not optional. You’re either built to be that fucked uppedly sad, or you’re not. You either have an unfair and cruel chemical imbalance that leaves you unable to be happy, or feel loved, or any kind of positive emotion, or you’re just fucking around and keeping yourself depressed for no good fucking reason.

So, it’s because of that that I take pride in me not being depressed anymore. I had a legit case even if it was never diagnosed, but again, I was lucky. Mine was situational–homeless, broken up, unemployed–and when some of those situations improved, so did the depression. For those who don’t have that choice, I have nothing but respect and love for. Those people are dealing with some serious shit, and it’s either a super-scary bipolar high followed by the crushing low, or it’s just the crushing low.

My point is… I pulled my head out of my ass. It took all my friends and 2 nephews and my entire family to help bring me back from the brink, but once I realized that I had a choice in my own emotional and mental well-being, I started doing just that:

I chose to feel better.

So, having said that, I dusted off the ol’ Rap-O-Tron 9000. It’s clunky, it needs oil, and danged if I remember how to properly ride a beat, but I still enjoy rhyming, and it took 9 years, but I finally wrote a happy rap that wasn’t bullshit.



7/19–“Better Days”

I swear I’m legendary, but it’s getting a little scary
all eyes on me, can feel a thousand people staring
in 6 years i went from rappin’ about the struggle
to balancing hopes & dreams/trying to juggle
and it’s not that i’m not used to success
but honestly it’s been so long that I guess I forget
how to handle it, because whenever i’ve been granted it
i fuck it up quick, break smash dismantle it
i’m just being honest, cuz dammit it’s damaging
the toll the shit takes relearning to be a man again
& mind my own business, observe, stay still like a mannequin
instead of feeling like i was cursed, destined to be an anakin
and yeah, i suppose this sounds like complaints but please
understand I’m showing some restraint, I need
to wrap my head around all this outrageous fortune
reconnected with my fam, no longer an estranged orphan
the sun finally came up, morning had arrived and I
made it back to feeling grateful that I’m alive
I did more than just survive, more than get my life back
i went back into hell to bring other people right back

But okay so, I’m back without a scorch or a singe
but now I gotta rebuild, where do I begin
it was a lot easier when i thought nobody cared
cuz i could use that isolation & run back to my lair
and jot rhymes and throw darts at any criticism
whether real or perceived, cuz anybody could get ’em
friend or foe, exgirlfriend or rapper I’d never meet
do a verbal drive-by and leave ’em in the streets
put on some cleats and curb stomp ’em into the pavement
tell ’em to get lost and not give a fuck where they went
it was easier when i could rant and spew bile
but now I’m the uncle to 2 beautiful childs
and the anger is gone, replaced by hope & optimism
aware I don’t have all the answers so I stop to listen
to jewels dropped by anybody that has wisdom
& my old targets should know that I forgive them
maybe time has healed all of my wounds
because i’m not settling for the stars, i’m reaching for the moon
maybe it’s just maturity, or a lack of insecurity
but whatever it is, it feels innocent & pure to me


6 Responses to “40 Bars, No Hook”

  1. Hopp Says:

    * salutes *

    I don’t have all the answers so I stop to listen
    to jewels dropped by anybody that has wisdom
    & my old targets should know that I forgive them
    maybe time has healed all of my wounds

    * can relate *

    stay still like a mannequin, tho ? Step it up, Rey.

    • reythehussein Says:

      @ Hopp– Heh.. I was trying to find a way to say that I see the shit my peoples go thru, and how in olden days I’d be in the thick of it, trying to mediate and getting involved, but now I just observe and let them do them. It’s a cliche, but in my case it’s true: Sometimes I care too much, and it fucks with my day.

      I appreciate the look tho’.

  2. hl Says:

    oh shit…

  3. 45% Says:

    No review on the movie “inception”?

    • reythehussein Says:

      I’m seeing it tomorrow nite, I’ll have a lil’ something to say about it, trust.

      Thanks for checking out the site!

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