New Clipse / Re Up Gang Leaked!!

Download it Here!!


Nah Homies.....we got it for cheap, ya dig?

Increase the Peace!

burn em down.

going for the 6's and 7's

All that man ever did was read the paper.

For some reason we felt it necessary to insult him every time we walked through what we called Apprentice Park.

I don't know why we called him names. I guess we just thought he was the crazy old guy and it didn't bother him.

We walked down there about twice a week. In between or after our classes in the city. The park was at the end of Market Street and if you looked over the railing you saw 16th street right under you and across 16th was the Brandywine Creek.

One day I wandered down to Apprentice Park by myself and I saw the old man sitting on his usual bench reading the paper. I sat down next to him and I said, "listen, I just wanted to apologize for yelling at you all those times. It was stupid and immature, you deserve more respect than that. I'm sorry."

He looked at me and said, "you're apology doesn't hold its weight in water."

So I said back, "walk to the creek with me."

For some reason he did. He followed me down to the water's edge. I started walking into the water. Luckily for me, there was a spot ten feet deep just to my right. We were completely underwater now. We had become dense enough to stay at the bottom.

I said to him, "does it hold its weight in water now?"

He didn't say anything to me. He pulled out a lighter, set the paper on fire, and disappeared.

Shout-outs to the coolest vegetable.

- Your third favorite story teller, William Wallace

Get familiar.

Its almost that time again...

4th of July! Swimming pools, Cookouts, Horseshoes, Spades, Dominoes, Dancing, Fireworks, Shit talking, Loud Music, The Aunt who comes with a Styrofoam container and takes all she can before everybody else can serve their plates. Believe me we're gonna get it in.

That reminds me of this American Made toss that Agua did on the el tracks right off 95. Lemme see if I saved it somewhere.
Ahhh there it is. What about that Agua Short Stop jawn, yeah I should have it somewhere on here too.
See I told you. Agua's been getting it in for years. I woulda loved to see what he was fully capable of if legal troubles hadn't plagued his stats from the first inning to wherever we're at now. Dude's had alotta fans over the years, but anybody remember the team of copycats from D-Ware? Well I do, callout time.
Just click a picture and it gets bigger. Happy Independence Day, save some ribs for me.

Reign Delay...*A Must Read

I could smell the wet asphalt before started raining. It was just that type of day. Every weather report called for storms. Every white cloud in the sky was slowly fading to black.

That was a misrepresentation of what was really happening. In our minds it was a beautiful day. Everything about our lives was slowly fading to white. It was one of the few times that I felt like every one of us was doing exactly what we wanted to do. We were all living a glamorous life. This was our glory day.

Obviously that wasn’t entirely true. Some people grow up with dreams of being an astronaut but one day they wake up and realize they couldn’t fly a kite in a windstorm. There are the talkers and the doers. Talkers tend have a mouthful of want and a handful of give me. This was the day I decided to be a doer.

We knew there was a rainstorm coming so we did what you do when it rains. We closed our car windows and made sure our sump pumps were working. The three of us operated in perfect time with one another. We lived our lives in key and in 4/4 time. When I got to my car I decided not to roll up the windows. I also decided not to go back inside. I started driving aimlessly, which was admittedly not what you normally do in the event of an oncoming storm. But I thought “fuck it, if I’m going to be a doer I’m not going to sit around on wasted talent.”

After driving for what felt like hours, I started to understand what people mean when they say that our roadsides have lost color. We live in a black and white pastel painting. Random color splashes the grey haze. After passing one of those few color splashes, another thought crossed my mind. I’m pretty sure I’m one of the few people who has ever thanked God for perverts, Pablo Escobar, and fallen heroes.

I kept driving until I didn’t care about the storm anymore. Then I realized it wasn’t storming.

It never started raining. But we kept living like it was going to. We kept preparing for it and it never came. It never does.

The cycle goes on and on and on and on.

And it never stops reigning.

~ THE William Wallace

**New Video**

Pervert FH. More videos to come!



Interested in getting more views on your video? Submit your own video and get airtime.
Possible Glamorous Life video coming soon.

Lil Wayne A Milli Remixes

It seems like everybody has come out with a remix over the Lil Wayne A Milli beat. From Jay-Z, to Papoose, to Lil-Mama, to Cyssero, to Cory-Gunz to I don't even know who! The three below are my three favorite. Probably a little biased, but go look up the others if you want. Oh and by the way J-A-D-A kills it.

Jadakiss - A Millie


Cassidy - A Millie


Gillie Da Kid, Bump J, Meek Millz & Peedi - A Millie Official Video

LOCAL LEGENDS THREADS COMING TO YOU!

Be on the lookout for this relatively young company coming out of Philadelphia Pistolvania. These wall writers turned entrepreneurs bring to you clean designs and authenticity in everything they do. Local Legends Threads is a vision of Dave Bontempo, founder and man in charge. LLT is a vision of uniting a culture in which we can be different, embrace change and find yourself without sacrificing your individuality. LLT was formed in 2005 in a dirty dorm room, with many friends helping along the way. To welcome the launch of their new line, Local Legends is throwing a party...so writers bring your blackbooks...ladies bring those titties and party people be ready to party. Cause it's going down.


Check out their myspace here for more gear and kicks : www.myspace.com/locallegendsthreads

Rockness Monsta - Shell Shock

I don't know why it took me so long to post this mixtape. But this release by Rock of Heltah Skeltah and the famous Boot Camp Clik is long over-due. Rock a former Decepticon Gang Member from Brooklyn, New York was recently released from an attempted murder charge stemming from the shooting of a notorious Blood Gang member/Pimp.

Watch the interview with Rock about his short time in Rikers here.



Download Rockness Monsta Shell Shock Mixtape here.

Rockness Monsta - Shell Shock
password: www.rapgodfathers.com

GEAR 4 SALE!

I came across what can be described as a virtual yard sale. Andrew Freeborn from Philadelphia is selling off everything. He's better known for running the Northern Liberties store Undrcrwn and contributing to the development of sneaker and fashion projects around these United States. He has a good collection of old Starter gear, sneakers and well some stuff that you just might like. Check his online store out here.


AdidasxUndrCrwn C-Billups


Nike Air Max 97 (euro release)


For my aki's! Vintage Bally's "Fordham"



Raider's Starter Cap - Wool (Reference NWA)


76ers Starter Cap - Cotton


UNLV Starter Cap - Cotton Twill


Jackets to match all the hats. 49ers Starter Coat


London Fog - Black/Red - Small


Air Burst (Asia Release)


Remember check his online store http://stillill.myshopify.com/.

FDR Skatepark..ow.

World Wars

Jacob died. His body was never recovered. The cause of death was unknown. The fact that he died wasn’t questioned though. He was 17 and his blood was smeared across the wall. There was a memorial service and no further questions were asked.
Jacob didn’t really die. He just needed to get away. True, that was his blood. He cut himself and smeared the blood. Jacob found a field.
He walked to the field after he cut himself. He had a shovel, so he started digging. He got pretty deep, he actually almost made it to the core. He built a little shelter and then put together a ladder. Jacob had an idea.
He then dug his way to the Atlantic. He positioned the ladder firmly in the sand and started climbing. He made it through the troposphere, stratosphere, and well into space. He went into black holes and other galaxies, but he wasn’t interested in all that. He built a bridge from space to water, two things that never touch. He was just hanging out on Venus one day with all the fly traps when he decided to send a message to Earth. He walked to the moon with his shovel and carved in a message. It read “fuck what you think.”
Earth saw it and, needless to say, was not too happy. Earth was so upset that he sent a clear message back. It swept the gravity right out from under the moons feet. Jacob saw what happened from the Big Dipper, where he liked to eat brunch. He was amused, so he decided to play a game. He was going to try to make all the Planets war with each other. He devised his plan under the watchful eye of the constellation Orion.
He started sending messages to all the planets in bottles. He would sign the messages with the name of another planet or moon. The Planets are smart. They got together and figured that Jacob was the problem. Not only did they take away Orion’s belt for participating but they had Taurus cut off Jacobs limbs. They put them in a box and mailed them to his parents house with a note that was signed by nine planets and a couple moons.
Now Jacob was dead.
- William Wallace a.k.a Winston Wolf a.k.a World Wars

Quotes from the blue side.

Before I start this post, I want to publicly state that I am not a 14 year old kid with Anarchy signs painted on his clothes or an ignorant street thug. But.....the state of policing needs to be addressed just like the rest of society does. I regularly read through forums where police officers post under anonymous screen names similar to me, however if you read back I am little bit more forthcoming with who I am. They post about everything from the Sean Bell incident to the recently broadcasted beatdown of three shooting suspects in Philadelphia. I have family that are police officers so I understand they operate in a stressful environment. I'm also positive that there are officers who like every other job are embarrassed by the words and actions of their colleagues. In a world such as policing, every thing you do reflects on those around you as well. Call me a liberal for criticizing cops, call me a conservative for understanding their job stress...whatever, I'm not much for labels, there's more substance to me than that. This one's for my crazy cop uncle who sleeps with his gun.

Comments made by Police officers after a 19 year old was shot dead for killing a police dog.

-POS DAD: " we want to see justice is done".

-JUSTICE WAS DONE, YOUR POS SPERM DONATION WAS PUT TO DEATH....... WORKS FOR ME!!!!

-A K-9 is an OFFICER. They are issued badge numbers just like a P/O. AND DAMN RIGHT THAT OFFICERS (K-9) LIFE IS NOT ONLY EQUAL BUT MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE VALUE OF THAT POS' LIFE. HE' WORTHLESS TO SOCIETY & ANYONE ELSE, NOW!

-Mr and Mrs Jackson, nice dirty white tshirt you nasty fuck. You both failed as parents. You son is dead, and the world is a better place for it.

New York Police talking about the death of Sean Bell while making fun of the deceased's wife. They created an imaginary character named Lootie, who is the racially created embodiment of urban black people and through digitally altered photos he consoles the grieving widow of Sean Bell. Yeah..."Lootie", even black officers should take offense.

-SHE IS SUCH A F U C K I N G BROODSOW!!!

-She should be grateful that Saint Sean Bell didn't live long enough to give her AIDS.

-Lootie is seen here adressing the crowd at Fat Al's National Action Network. Lootie has his own style of whipping up the crowd into taking action. Lootie was seen demonstrating to the crowd what they are suppose to loot for if the crowd decides to start looting after the march for justice on 05/07/08.




Police officers are professionals and should not engage in political rhetoric. But I guess they feel safe behind the computer screen.

Sean Bell

This isn't about white or black because the officers were all different races. This is about taking ownership.




Story stolen from CNN.com

Sean Bell was killed just before dawn on his wedding day, November 25, 2006. He and several friends were winding up an all-night bachelor party at the Kalua Club in Queens, a strip club that was under investigation by a NYPD undercover unit looking into complaints of guns, drugs and prostitution.





Undercover detectives were inside the club, and plainclothes officers were stationed outside.
Witnesses said that about 4 a.m., closing time, as Bell and his friends left the club, an argument broke out. Believing that one of Bell's friends, Joseph Guzman, was going to get a gun from Bell's car, one of the undercover detectives followed the men and called for backup.



What happened next was at the heart of the trial, prosecuted by the assistant district attorney in Queens.

Bell, Guzman and Trent Benefield got into the car, with Bell at the wheel. The detectives drew their weapons, said Guzman and Benefield, who testified that they never heard the plainclothes detectives identify themselves as police. Bell was in a panic to get away from the armed men, his friends testified. But the detectives thought Bell was trying to run down one of them, believed that their lives were in danger and started shooting, according to their lawyers.
A total of 50 bullets were fired by five NYPD officers. Only three were charged with crimes.


No gun was found near Bell or his friends.

On Friday, Justice Arthur Cooperman cleared Detectives Michael Oliver and Gescard Isnora of manslaughter, assault and reckless endangerment in the death of Sean Bell.



From L to R: Marc Cooper, Michael Oliver, Gescard Isnora

Bell, 23, died in November 2006 in a 50-bullet barrage -- 31 fired by Oliver.

Like Oceans

Flying is a very humbling experience. No matter who you are or where you are from, once you step onto that plane and fasten your seatbelts, you are all equal. Every person onboard, first class or coach, passenger or crew, is immediately at the mercy of not only a giant machine but also a human. Machines and humans have flaws. It is commonly known that men folly, but at 20,000 feet there is not much room for error. But machines and humans do, in fact, have flaws, and things go wrong. The odds are against you, that’s what they say. But the odds get better when the engine fails, or you hit a storm, or the pilot isn’t really a pilot, or someone on the plane wants to bring it down… If something like that happens, then everyone on board instantly has a bond that can never be broken.
Joshua was leaving his fairly normal life for only a week. He had just moved out of his parents’ place and into his own apartment, which he shared with a close friend. He was just out of college, and just into a relationship. He loved everything about his girl. Life just seemed to be going his way recently. He was just hired to work in the PR department of a mortgage company in his hometown of Long Island, New York. They were sending him on a “business trip” to Cancun, Mexico. He knew what “business trip” meant in “business” terms. It was just an official expression for a week long “meet and greet” with the new boss. Luckily for Joshua, he played a lot of golf and smoked cigars…
Joshua got on his flight, 5018 to Cancun, at around 12:30 on a Sunday afternoon. He said goodbye to friends, family, and his girlfriend and hopped on the plane figuring he would be back in a week and could continue with his life. At 23, he was beginning to settle down. He made a steady amount of money at the firm and was ready to move on to the next phase of his life. He wasn’t sure if he was in love or if she was the “one,” but he definitely hoped so.
The trip to Cancun was a projected 6-hour flight. Joshua hated flying. As he sat down in Row 14, Seat C, he let out a sigh of relief to discover he had the window seat. Maybe this flight wouldn’t be so bad after all. Another good omen came when a man not too unlike himself sat down next to him. His name was Andy and his story was much the same. Just going down to Cancun for “business.” They started talking to make things easier for the trip and seemed to hit it off. They started talking about relationships and Joshua began talking about his girlfriend. “She’s got eyes like oceans.” Coincidentally, the plane had just left land behind and was now flying over the Gulf of Mexico. The flight didn’t have much longer. Out from underneath Joshua’s clothes, skin, and bones, came another sigh of relief.
About that time is when the plane got a little shaky. The pilot attempted to reassure the passengers, but Joshua knew something was up. The stewardess’ sat in their seats with worried looks on their faces. Looking out the window, Joshua saw nothing but the blackest clouds he had ever seen. The lights flickered and the plane rocked back and forth. On the drop down monitors that tracked the planes movements, the altitude began slipping closer to zero.
Engine failure. It went down. Fast.
The plane hit the water traveling faster than the speed of sound. Joshua tried to brace himself, but there is no preparation for an impact like that. Somehow, he lived. Huddled in a floating mass, he survived. He climbed out of the plane and onto the top. He had no idea how long it had been since the plane crashed, but the skies were clear and the sun was setting. Joshua sat on the top of the plane and watched the sunset. It was beautiful. The way it reflected, they way the clouds came in painted him a picture. Like Oceans. All he could see were his girlfriends eyes. He wanted to stare into them so bad, but all he had was a memory, a mental photograph. He wondered if he would ever get that chance.
The plane started sinking, so he was forced to paddle out into the abyss and grab a flotation device that somehow survived the wreck. Andy was dead. He floated on that device for a day. The next sunset came and to the west he saw a ship coming his way. It was not just any ship though. It was a sailboat, an enormous sailboat. Spanish flags waved off of the top. It was made of wood and he could see the cannons in the side. Suddenly the plane was gone and so was his suit and tie. The metal and steel wreckage had been replaced with splintered wood and rusted brass. His suit and tie had been replaced with a wool shirt and black pants. He was no longer holding on to an orange life vest, but to a brown piece of wood from a ship that somehow wrecked. A million thoughts crossed his mind, but he remained calm.
The Spanish ship sailed closer. He made out the name of it on the massive hull from a distance, Como Los Océanos. Maybe she came to save him, he thought. That thought was fleeting. A man in captains threads pointed a gun at him and told him to get on. He was a prisoner.
They kept him in the basement of the ship and he was treated as prisoners are. He didn’t understand so he did not speak. He was fed little and was given water even less. Within the week, he arrived in Cancun. It was about the same time he should have been returning home. He walked, more like stumbled, onto the beach. It began to rain, and the ocean reminded him of her. He looked to his left and there she was. Walking out of a hut on the beach of Cancun was a true beauty. It was his girlfriend, but instead of embracing Joshua, she embraced the man with the gun. Their eyes met and she nodded her head and mouthed the words “I’m sorry.” She turned away, speaking fluent Spanish, and he was left with a million horrible and heartbreaking emotions. All he could say was “like oceans.” She said “Wait” and turned to him, but before she could put a hand out or even scream, he was shot and killed by the man with the gun.

Written by my man WILLIAM WALLACE.

Book Recommendations

Gang Leader for a Day

When Venkatesh walked into an abandoned building in one of Chicago's most notorious housing projects, he was looking for people to take a multiple-choice survey on urban poverty. A first-year grad student hoping to impress his professors with his boldness, he never imagined that as a result of the assignment he would befriend a gang leader named JT and spend the better part of a decade inside the projects under JT's protection, documenting what he saw there.

I first read this in Freakanomics, basically he infiltrates the gang during a study for graduate school and shows why the bottom level drug dealers still live with their moms. A real life study of risk and return.

Fletcher Street

Deep in the heart of Philadelphia, past row houses and vacant lots, run-down playgrounds and dilapidated schools, is a little place called Fletcher Street. It has everything one would expect to find down an alley in the ghetto, with one addition: horses. The men and boys of Fletcher Street have used their passion for riding and bonds with their rides to build their and their community’s sense of worth. They describe their passion for horses as having kept them from the temptations of street life. Fletcher Street by Martha Camarillo documents the lives of these men and the boys they mentor, who board their horses in abandoned houses or makeshift stables, and ride them through the streets of Philly.

This is a more recent update of what happened on Fletcher St. just last year. The bulldozers knocked down the building on Fletcher Street piece by piece. All that's left is a pile of rubble. About 95 percent of the property was condemned.