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Remy Ma Explains Why Vince Hebert Replaced Papoose As Her Manager

Remy Ma has been on the grind lately. The Bronx, NY MC has not only been dropping new music, but she has also squashed beef with Lil Kim, started eating healthier, and decided to part ways with Papoose as her manager. In a recent interview Remy opened us While she hasn’t spoken lately about the […]

via Remy Ma Explains Why Vince Hebert Replaced Papoose As Her Manager — K97.5


Back 2 Real Hiphop Vol.1(Kenyan Edition)


Being a lover of Kenyan Art, this month Kenyan Hitz #4  will not be released but instead, we will celebrate the untapped underground artists and some  old-skul acts in this hip hop mix-tape titled “Back 2 Real Hip hop Vol.1”.

In this 24 mins Mix-tape, I turned back my spotlight to the old days when Hip hop used to be the thing here in Kenya. KBC and most of the upcoming Fm stations used to bless our ears with real talent hardcore hip hop music before commercial acts termed them as low quality music and not worthy to get air plays. Kicking us off is Oxide with Nduru,  meaning the rest of the mix-tape means business, also had to go back when Khaligraph was real G with One 2 Ten and some of Ukoo Flani Mau Mau music- Mashairi, Mazishi ya Polisi, Punchlines…- just to mention a few.

Download here…  Enjoy!!



A trembling between the windows in the kitchen we called ours, in which
we placed the plates carefully. We said the plates could stay in our house.

We spoke with our tongues, which touched at night. The only matter
was what had we had with own eyes seen. Seen: peppers at market,

thin scar usually hidden by clothing, downstairs neighbor moving in.
Seen: loving another person so much that you also love every single

other thing you touch. The dishes shook like leaves, floated downriver.
Days too. Washing clothes in the kitchen. Underwear in the laundry

like a bell in the head. The bed which creaked like a sleigh in snow, and
the small piano, and the quiet dying of blood, and the unbroken plates.

Tomato after green tomato from the farm up the street bloomed red
and did beat in time, and every day was the first and also the last, and.

In my hometown my friends were all wearing tuxedos to each other’s
weddings, licking icing from roses, a sweetness which sang the song

of their remembered bodies aging under all that formal cloth.
I don’t mean to sound perverse. It was beautiful if unnecessary.