An instrumental I've been messin' with lately. I have yet to throw down my vocals but it's comin' soon, reciting some new lyrics after my recent release from the local Asylum ;) This one is a oldie so much respect to the originators and producers from way back ;)

People under the Stairs "Acid RainDrops" Instrumental Remix

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Buddhist-Locksmith raised in BridgePort, Connecticut, born utta outta Halifax, Canada. Lyrics, vocals & production working off Audacity on a bare bones HP laptop.  No former formal music experience, I just listen to an instrumental and write away with my head noddin. No knowledge of song structure and proper edicate. Respect to Mos Def, Q-Tip, Immortal Technique, Jedi Mind Tricks, Apathy, Mr Funke, Lords Of The Underground, J5, Celph Titled, MObb Deep, Cannibus. Leave feedback I'm new to this, here to learn. Thanx for listenin' 
Much Love, Peace

****Attention, important, reflective, unfiltered Unedited , raw content. Forewarned**** This just spilled out moments ago.......

People in the Soundcloud and FaceBook community have asked me repeatedly why I chose such a controversial name as the "Buddhist ~ Nazi"..........

I grew up in home where the N word was used as often as word "I" or "he". Black friends we're not allowed in the house. Nor was their music, culture, clothing, speech or anything of the sorts. As a child it was tough figuring out my own stance on the issue as I attended school in a prominently black and Spanish setting in BridgePort , CT. Yet at home it seemed there was an all out war between races. Complaints raing that they're infiltrating our radio waves. They're on our god damn televisions, now they're in our school systems teaching our god damn children. For Christ's sake, what's next?
Typical dinner table discussions in a working class white home. I once made the mistake of suggesting that black football players were physically superior and naturally gifted, hence their dominance of the major league American sports.........Response. "The only thing worse than a n*gger......is a n*gger lover."
Okay...Lesson learned, things not to say in a close minded home. Guilty by association. My opinions started sway and begin to tilt the scales in the favor of my elder's views. It was the path of least resistance. It was so much easier to pretend I held the same hatred and disgust and go with the propaganda and repetitive non-sense. They're taking our jobs, their taking our women, their mixing with our children. But it wasn't just the blacks. That was just easy because it was BridgePort. Any spiral in the economy, downfall of local markets, property value decrease, it was everyone else. Not the rich glutenous white man buying up all the land and kicking out the common family man. Claims that the jiggaboo's the spics, the gooks, the pan-heads, dot heads, rag heads, sand n*ggers, jews, the kikes, fags, homos and wetbacks.
Yet our neighbors and best friends were black. My principal was black. Our family business partner was sooo Jewish. The guy on the softball team was openly gay and Puerto Rican. Who else is gonna go dancing after the game at the Purple Rain concert? The best local markets were Spanish, Greek, Hungarian, Portuguese, Italian, Israeli, Turkish. We sure didn't mind their food, they're tax money, etc. We sure didn't mind the way their music loosened up our uptight white women and got em to dance! But some how we were supposed to be different, divided, separate in a constant battle for control. A never ending dick measuring contest of wealth, ego and national pride. An illusion at best.
I continued school. I traded my graffiti and tagging skills and snacks for mix-tapes. I hid my cassette tapes inside the padding of my mattress and couch. Criss cross, Warren G, KrS One, Talib Kweli, Q Tip, LL Cool J, all the stuff we could rip off Funk Master Flex, Hot 97, 93.7 and K Rock 92.3. We'd put scotch tape over the reels and make our own radio shows as soon as we got home. We'd have all the time in the world it seemed to beatbox and try "be like Mike" from Beastie Boys. All the time in world, until you heard the all familiar rumble of that truck...
Oh shit, put it away, he's home, he's home, Fuck! We pack it up and pull out the toy chest. Keys jingle. Foot steps. Door opens. The dark swaying silhouette of a frustrated white working man trying to gain control in a world slipping away to unity and diversity .
The faces of shame and guilt can't hide the tremendous joy we experienced just moments ago, now replaced with fear, panic, worry and concern for my fellow brother. He knows whats up, there's no hiding it. If lie, it's much worse.
Who's next I wonder. Will one of us get out to the neighbors. You boys acting like n**gers again? Is that what your doing your step mother's home? Is that why I go to work everyday? So you two can sit here like a couple of spooks and poison my wife's home with your filthy n*gger music. You tell tell your asshole friends I see em around here again they'll be plenty of this to go around.
This continues until the booze fueled rage slows and the screams of mere feeble malnourished children begin to awaken the very little conscious left flickering in the brain of a very confused and ill equipt young man with two young boys in a foreign land living on outdated values and views.
This shaped my very being. I was determined more than every to find what makes these Hip Hop dudes so defiant. I wanna "Fuck the system". I wanna "Know my enemy". Rage against the Machine was giving me confidence that I could one day stand against this tyrannical dictatorship. If I could just get N.W.A. to come over, these dudes could kick my dad's ass and he'd no choice but accept the inevitable. Change. And when Tupac dropped the song "Changes on us, phew that was it. I remember copying lyrics in my notepads just repeating those lines for weeks in room.

"I see no changes. All I see is racist faces.
Misplaced hate makes disgrace to races we under.
I wonder what it takes to make this one better place...
let's erase the wasted.
Take the evil out the people, they'll be acting right.
'Cause both black and white are smokin' crack tonight.
And only time we chill is when we kill each other.
It takes skill to be real, time to heal each other.
And although it seems heaven sent,
we ain't ready to see a black President, uhh.
It ain't a secret don't conceal the fact...
the penitentiary's packed, and it's filled with blacks.
But some things will never change." ~ Tupac

That was it! All I needed right there. Evidence from the outside world that change is eminent. It was happening. People we're doing it. We didn't have to live like this anymore. I can start changing my tune and vibin with these dudes I carried so much hate for yet the love always present just shackled by fear. Jamming by myself counting the minutes I had to feel free again. Sneaking over to my black friends to experience food, unity, a true family bond. A kindred sense of unity and respect between brothers and sisters, caring for the elders, raising the young, educating the fallen. This wasn't I what I heard about. What are N*ggers? Cus I sure don't see any at my friend's houses.
It seemed we lived more like that than anyone else. We didn't eat together. We we're not allowed to socialize with our siblings because we were not blood related. Christmas separate. Vacations separate. Never to ride in the same car. Never to be seen together in public. We can't share the same space, same fridge, seperate living quarters, separate holidays yet we lived on the same property. Crazy. Not until I snuck out into other's homes did I realize that the seclusion, hatred, fear, division, confusion, shame and separatism was only in our family. Not everyone in the community treated each other like this, it was just us! The more I saw the more I was outraged.
So at 17 I left and never looked back. I lived and ate with Jews on holidays, stayed with Italians and ate like kings, I lived with a Pakistani family and smoked hookas while eating from a communal bowl with our bare hands, I traveled to different ghettos, states, I went to markets, sleep overs, southern BBQs, shelters, soup kitchens, visited the projects. My adventure in the wilderness school and the outdoor YMCA in Canada assured me I could do this with my intent and focus. There was no need to remain in seclusion where I was once captive.
I wanted to see what else they were wrong about. This was amazing. A whole new world, Through a whole new lense. I wanted to experience everything. So I did, I dated all kinds, lived with many cultures. I continue this quest today with the same passion. Today I carry the name "Buddhist ~ Nazi". I hope this short story helps bring some light to as to why I chose such a controversial yet directly contradicting title. Buddhism is a huge part of my being. I consider myself to me a man f many trades and influences I don't succumb to one religion. I learn from all and incorporate what resides. The swastikas I used to once wear proudly on my chest, arms, and legs, are now replaced with a light of another vibration. A complete transformation of energy. I still carry these memories and lye heavy in everyday decision making, it a constant reminder of the pain I not only endured but shared, reciprocated and placed upon those around me in my younger years. I influenced many innocent minds in a negative way, spreading my white faith propaganda as i was being recruited into a hate group myself. I now work to bring these people back together with my music. Hope this provided some insight.... Yours Truly, " Buddhist ~ Nazi"

Share your stories below! I wanna know what you guys grew up with. Knowledge is power. Drop truth. Much love.

People under the Stairs "Acid RainDrops" Instrumental Remix

ॐ Buddhist ~ Nazi ॐ