To Love a Female Hip Hop Head


So, its been a while since I’ve posted anything. I had a lot of plans to write about the some recent releases and the AOTP show I attended in LA recently.  But life throws curve-balls at you.  In most cases, I wouldn’t mind balls thrown at me, but this wasn’t the fun kind.

So what to write?  Well, usually I’m ready to talk shit but I wanted to talk about something I have had a lot of time to think about.  Ya know, soft shit.  Like puppies and MCM’s n shit.  First off, my blog states “Life of a Hip Hop Head”. So I why not write about something that is important to every woman, Love.  Cause Hip Hop heads need lovin’ too right? But not in the typical sense, but in the “What it’s like to love a Hip Hop Head”.  I can’t speak for all females, so I am going to speak for myself, a serious female Hip Hop enthusiast.

I’m not the usual kind of woman that you come across. Most so called female heads will  consider themselves a head because they have an IPod with some Nas & Wu-Tang.  Is there anything wrong with it? Depends what kind of mood I’m in when you ask.  But really, nah, I don’t judge.  This is why Live Elements is so near and dear to my heart.  Because I like to spread good quality Hip Hop. No one is more Hip Hop than Hip Hop. So go fuck yourself.

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So where was I? Ahhh yes, Cuban B.  Yeah so again, I’m not the usual female head you come across.  Hip Hop consumes a huge portion of my life.  It isn’t everything, but music in general consumes my life.  Whether it’s Live Elements, crate digging, research, networking, shows, etc. It consumes a huge portion.  So when I take into consideration a person to date, them being a head is vital.  I’ve tried to date men who weren’t heads, and it didn’t work. I tried dating someone who claims to be a head and I ended up being the one teaching them, so that shit didn’t work. So what the fuck? I need a real underground head. Someone below the basement.   Cause for real yo,  I’m so into Hip Hop that an underground DJ that once dated told me and I quote; “You’re way too involved with Hip Hop. It’s like you’re in a relationship with it and I can’t compete.” That’s how much I’m committed to Hip Hop.

It’s always been easy for me to say that I am in love with Hip Hop, or that Hip Hop is the love of my life.  It saved me, raised me, and has always been there so why wouldn’t I say that I am in love with Hip Hop? But Hip Hop can’t hump me, buy me tacos, and cuddle with me… so I need a man. But not just a man, a real underground head.


(Please dear baby Jesus)

So what to expect out of loving a real female Hip Hop Head? Well be prepared for music played at an obnoxious level.  Be prepared for her to flow to the lyrics as smooth as Thelonious Monk jazz. Be prepared to have to argue over if the production outweighed the lyricism of a joint.  Be prepared to be “put on” to undiscovered emcees, producers, and unknown samples. Just simply be prepared to have a woman who is insanely passionate about something so infinite.

But to love someone one, comes with work. You have to have your hands deep into crates and your mind deep into the culture. You will have to understand that men are drawn to women that know Hip Hop and you will have to be secure enough to know that she will not allow anyone to take your place. You must be able to devote an entire day to back breaking digging. Or work with me to spread real Hip Hop. You must share the same excitement when I scream and show you a cover and understand my excitement.  You have to be able to sit and listen with an open mind on different joints and debate them with passion.  Not just have me state what I feel and you agree.  You have to sacrifice sleep in order to hit a show and vibe out to what we love.  You also have to know that I will zone out on it. Sometimes for hours and write…

But if you give me this, I promise to write about you.  Page after page of how someone like you finally came into my life. Someone who was able to put ME onto Hip Hop.  Someone who switched the role and made me the student for once. I’d write about how you became the binary star in my universe as we orbit Hip Hop.  How you finally someone who rivaled my knowledge and helped me grow rather than just drain me or used me to feed their ego.

So what is it like to love a female Hip Hop head? Fucking amazing… if he’s strong enough.  Peace.

Mic Drop


“My Rebirth… My Wu-Tang”


So when I found out Wu Tang was going to be at the Brooklyn Bowl in Las Vegas, my first thought was, “Mannnn fuck all that noise, the Brooklyn Bowl is small as fuck! I’m not going to have some guy rub his weak ass boner on my ass.” But then my sister had some guy wanting to slip her the eggplant for a while that worked there and wanted to comp us for the show. So my reaction then became, “Oh fuck it, it’s free.” As the days progressed I still wasn’t that excited for it. I don’t know if the over-saturation of Wu Wednesday’s on IG or the fact that these broads are rocking Forever 21 Wu shirts; but I felt like maybe I have finally became desensitized from the group that once moved mountain for me. But when that cock sucker (who will never fuck my sister) never came through, it was the day before the last show. The moment of panic set in. I was holding onto the fact that I am one of the lucky ones who has seen Wu Tang all together including my ODB (RIP) enough times to let this one go. But then I just said fuck it and paid the rape price of $60 + a $22 convenience fee. I thought to myself, “Method Man better swing in on a rope with a Batman costume and land in my vagina for this price”. But whatever, I did it. And I’ll sadly report right now that Method Man didn’t land in my vagina.

So getting back to the fucking story yo, let me take you back and let you know… this is “My Rebirth … My Wu Tang”. I was lucky enough to experience this venue with an old school head like myself , we’ll call him DOOM guy. We arrived at the Brooklyn Bowl. We were there dumb early with the expectation that the Friday venue would’ve been crazy packed. Our age became very apparent when we were the first ones in line and right behind us was a couple over 30’s. It was pretty dope to vibe out with some people who understood what Wu Tang meant to us back in the days. We laughed and made jokes about the young people around us having no idea what the fuck it was like. We chopped it up with some of the bouncers. And even a LVMPD came up to us trying to “relate” by saying when he got this Wu Tang assignment that he thought it was an Asian band. Yeah, okay buddy, little did he know I have two blunts in my bra.

So getting into the venue, our age became even more apparent when dope old school shit began to be played. You can see the old heads dancing, singing, and bobbing their heads to this while the younger crowd stayed still with their heads in their phones. But as soon as something dope was played it was followed with some pop gum Nikki Minaj bullshit that made me sad. Very sad. Seriously, if Brooklyn Bowl is seeing this, fire that fucking DJ. That cunt is a fucking retard. Her lack of transition was fucking horrible. I would’ve been more entertained if she got on stage and began to do that ping pong ball trick everyone talks about. I could probably have gotten a random IPod from the crowd and have done a better job. That bitch deserves horrible things. I understand that it’s Vegas and you want to get everyone “turnt up” but come the fuck on. We stood dumbfounded. Shit made me bipolar son. I was dancing and singing one minute and wanting to slice my wrist the next. I’m just not used to that shit.

So eventually we became so fucking tired of the emotional roller coaster from the DJ we ended up standing there pissed the fuck off. Everything was irritating me. All I could do was tweet pissed off things and post videos of the stupid shit I was seeing around us. I needed to get blazed ASAP but it was impossible with LVMPD all around. We had to wait. But yes, I understand Wu is late. This isn’t my first fucking rodeo, but the shit around me made me realize why I stopped going to venues. If it wasn’t some girl there making out with her man;  it was some guy standing there like an asshole, with his asshole haircut, and his asshole plugs in his ears, and his asshole skinny jeans, with his asshole face.  Or  it was some molly’d up ass fucker dancing around like what? An assshole. With his asshole girlfriend. I fucking hate people sometimes.

Finally the opening band came on. Sure, it was dope. Some New Orleans jazz is always welcomed. But after the 3rd song we were over it. We wanted Wu. So we are again thrown into the barrage of dumb pop songs while we wait. As I’m standing there I realize no one really gives a fuck. Only DOOM guy and I were the ones around us like, “Yo no one notices how long it’s been? People will wait forever. Can you please at least play some fucking Wu Tang?” A few real Wu heads around us tried to start the “WU TANG! WU TANG!” chant with it only be make a small impact. We were out numbered. We were surrounded by the enemy. Fake heads. The assholes I spoke of. They’re were there in abundance. I felt like I was the only one screaming out for Wu Tang. DOOM guy had more patience than I did.

Then it came. Out of nowhere, each member started coming out. One by one. You want to know what that moment was like for me? It was like seeing Jesus rise from the tomb or wherever that nigga was at. It was like seeing a baby getting rescued from a burning building. It was like seeing my bank account with endless zeros. It was like seeing a baby panda being born and landing into the hands of ODB. It was everything good in this world. Everything that made me mad just suddenly disappeared. There was my Wu. The ones that made me fall in love with Hip Hop. The ones that changed my life. There they were. After so many years. Only a few feet away from us. Then my ass jumping up and down tried to see if somehow I missed Method Man. Y’all bitches need to understand that most of y’all loved this nigga when he went Hollywood. I loved this nigga at 12 years old when he had that chipped tooth and was a nappy headed n shit. My love for him is infinite. If you ask anyone in my family who I have loved almost my whole life, they will say Method Man. Anyways, I won’t lie seeing that Meth wasn’t there. It hurt … but only for a minute… Like anal sex. But I easily got over it.

I don’t care what people say. Wu still brings that shit. With their classics and other classic projects, they delivered that raw Hip Hop. That shit that gives you chills. It was easy to spot those who didn’t feel the Wu like we did. Where we were spitting lyrics verbatim other only came through from CREAM. But whatever I don’t give a fuck anymore. That shit was so fucking amazing. Like in that movie Ted, where they see Flash Gordon, this was our Flash Gordon. It was like motherfucking Christmas morning.

Then it happened. RZA began to shout out for people to represent their age group. As he went through the age groups, 18-20, 20-25, ect. I’m like damn son they aint going to show love to us or what? But like RZA’s ass read my mind he asked for anyone over 30. At this moment, usually I would get sad as fuck. Like, damn son, I’m getting old. But I was proud as fuck. We made crazy noise. Saying shit like, “That’s MY mothafuckin’ childhood!” and “That’s OUR shit!”. Because you know what? Fuck you. That is our shit. DOOM Guy hit the nail on the mother fucking head. I usually don’t like to pull the “Old school, pre-internet head” card but I’m about to waive that mother fucker. Cause yes, you love Wu. I’m happy you do. Cause every generation need to love music. It’s not going to stop me from listening to Miles Davis because I never was there. But Wu Tang. That is our shit. It’s what raised us. It molded us. It moved us. It became us. I’m talking to the generation born from 1984 and before. This was our shit. I’ll never forget the day my brother brought me 36 Chambers on wax. I was 12. Up until then all I listened to was records from my family, like salsa and classic rock, some jazz and some oldies. But as soon as I heard RZA shouting “Bring da motherfucking ruckus” and then Ghost coming with “Ghost catch the blast from hype verse” I was done. It was over. I immediately wanted nothing but Hip Hop. They made me the person I am today. It made me the person I was growing up. If it weren’t for the Wu, I would’ve been one of these fast ass little girls more concerned with partying and boys. Instead my life became Hip Hop. Graffiti and Hip Hop. I was obsessed. So yes, when someone says they love Wu Tang, and it’s okay to love them, but you will never love them like WE love them. Because unfortunately, you will never know what it was like to have them raise you in their prime. For you to be moved by them at that time. To imitate their style, verbiage, and just let them completely take over you at that young of an age.

But with being older, we see our heroes getting older. They don’t move as fast, they have slowed down, we never escape father time. But not matter what age, they still bring that ruckus. And they breathed new life into me again. Like reminding me why I do this. Why I’m here. Why the people in my life right now are here. To most in attendance, it was just a Wu show, but for me it was a spiritual awakening. What I needed to get my ass back into what I was born to do. So thank you again Wu. Without you, I don’t know what I would’ve been. You gave me the escape at the darkest times of my life. Your songs take me back to memories that I will always relive. I will never forget Septemember 19th, 2014. And even know we are all getting older. Grey hair, laugh lines, not understanding Bae and Yolo, we still not matter what age we’ll be at will always bring that mother fucking ruckus. Suuuuuuuu!



Rebecca – Live Elements

Hip Hop > Instagram

Scrolling through my feed most Instagram Hip Hop pages can be summed up by this:




I mean, don’t get me wrong, there are some really dope pages.  There are a lot of you I really like interacting with.  But some “Hip Hop” pages need to be removed.  Like removed not only off Instagram, but like out of existence.  Or we should be able to put you under Hip Hop probation until we release you.

I was inspired by two things to write a small piece on this.  One is the by my fellow Hip Hop blogger extraordinaire @KimDuizm HipHopHabitual.Com tweet recently about Wu Wednesday (we will visit this in a minute) and another fellow Hip Hop page post calling out these Hip Hop pages we are discussing.

Let’s start off discussing Wu-Wednesday.  I love the Wu.  I have loved the Wu since that faithful day when I was 12 when my brother brought me the 36 Chambers on cassette, so they hold a very special place in my heart.  But the over saturation of Wutang posts on my feed is overwhelming.  It’s the same 20 pictures that everyone already saw.  Yes, I already know, “the face someone makes when they say they don’t listen to Wu Tang”, no need to remind me.  I have participated in this day but I have already tried to give you original meme’s, samples, etc.  But I just gave up.

Speaking of originality, this is what these so called “Hip Hop” pages lack.  Educate others.  Put people onto new music.  Share your music.  Share your art.  Share your record/cd/tape collection.  Share your photography. Bring some substance to this culture I love so very fucking much. Don’t post that same Googled image we saw over 100 times already.  Bring some original shit.  You wouldn’t accept someone serving you someone’s left over steak at a restaurant, why the fuck should Hip Hop be any different?

I’ve discussed this topic with some fellow Hip Hop pages and heads out there and the same things always comes up, “But they have the most followers… why?”.  The answer can be debated, but what I come up with is that it’s SIMPLE.  Simple shit for simple niggas.  Same concept can be put to life.  Simple is safe.  It’s familiar.  So the masses are drawn to that.

I knew from go that Live Elements, will never have as many followers as some of these pages.  I post a lot of underground that people don’t know of.  It’s cool, I’d rather have substance heard and viewed by open minded people than 30K of followers that only know the same 90’s Hip Hop artists and never want to expand their mind to more.  It’s not ever about followers with me.  It’s about Hip Hop.  Even this blog, if some people read it cool, I’m good with that.

I’ve been called “pretentious” and asked “but why does it bother you?” when it comes to Hip Hop on Instagram.  My statement is as follows:

“I Live Elements, am not more Hip Hop than anyone else.  I am not more Hip Hop than the 15 year old girl that picked up a Jedi Mind Trick’s album and deleted all the Drake off her phone.  Nobody is more Hip Hop than Hip Hop.  This beautiful culture that saved my life.  But what I am is very passionate about her, mother Hip Hop.  I will work everyday of my life to give back to Hip Hop as much as it’s been given to me.  So when I see a disrepect to her, I will make sure my voice is heard.  My not be by many, but it’s heard.  Hip Hop > Instagram.  Peace.”



Me? Anti-Mainstream?

Zack Morris

In the almost two years I’ve had Instagram, I’ve gotten every bullshit comment about what I put up. Everything from, “You’re stuck in the 90’s” to “You’re so anti-mainstream it’s annoying”. First off, I hope someone is titty fucking your mother to the beat of a 2 Chainz song as you read this.

Where were we? Oh…yes…

In my defense, like most real Hip Hop supporters, I’d like to say that I support REAL Hip Hop. Sure, there are some dope as productions in the mainstream. Why? Cause they can pay talented producers to create these things.  Just look at “Magna Carta Holy Grail” (Release the Jay Z fan boys).  Sure, I like listening to catchy hooks and shit sometimes.  You know, at the mall but I won’t go out of my way for it.

But they ruin fine production by throwing some watered down nursery rhymes on it.  Like putting ketchup on filet mignon.   Speaking of condiments, let’s pull 2 Chainz away from fucking your mother to admire the lyrical content of one of his hits:

“Mustard, ketchup, I take pills, expert
Kitchen all pyrexed up, if my dick talked it’d say “next up” (dang)”

Then a lyric from the late Eyedea (Micheal Larsen):

“Empathy is the poor man’s cocaine And love is just a chemical by any other name”

Yes, two different styles, but if I had to write a college paper or have my child exposed to, which one would I chose?

Yeah, yeah.  I know we can’t go back blah blah.  But there was a time where corporate men who know NOTHING of out culture didn’t use the music we listen to to control the masses.  They don’t want people of the Hip Hop culture to expand their minds.  They want us to stay in this party era with Molly and funny dances.  I say fuck that shit and give me dope beats, stimulating lyrical content, and education for all.  

I don’t get paid to do this.  I work a 9-5 profession cause we call have to pimp the system.  But I go out of my way to try to promote and enlighten people of the real Hip Hop culture.  I don’t do it cause I think I’m the say all and know all of Hip Hop.  No, the beautiful thing about our culture is that we are always learning.  So to assume that I think I know it all, you are implying that I am closed minded.  

I can go on forever on this subject.  I may revisit at a later time but for now I feel like I made my point.

So next time you think I’m anti-mainstream.  I’ll so eloquently put that to remember that it’s my fucking shit and I’ll do whatever I want.  Peace.


Welcome Back (Mase Voice)

Why does one always find themselves back to this place?  You try, don’t like it how it came out, then shake that shit off and do it again.  Some might say it is the “tortured artist” thing that we need to express ourselves.  I guess it’s something only artists understand.  But I guess you can be just as passionate about anything… Some people like turtles n shit… Its cool, I don’t judge.

This is something I have been thinking about for a while.  I have been on a hiatus creatively for a while now… it happens.  When I started the old Live-ElementsHipHop.Com I had this huge vision for it.  I dedicated so much time, money, and energy into it.  I had scheduled interviews, reviews, etc. all lined up, but I dropped it once I felt like my own personal life was being compromised for it.  Although I had a lot of genuine support from followers on Instagram, I just needed to regroup my thoughts and get this shit in order.

This time it will be different.  This will be more of a “blog” than a Hip Hop site.  I’m not going to concern myself with the number game.  I won’t post everyday, I won’t review everything, I won’t let myself feel pressured into shit anymore.  It will be a blog. But I hope to make it all pretty and shit… add some cool polls, links, videos, etc.  Like the old Live Elements, I still would like to enlighten and interact with people about the Hip Hop Culture…  I might have some random shit here and there cause well, it’s mine and I can.

If this goes somewhere, dope.  If not, still dope.  This will be like my journal.  If y’all dig it, dope.  Only positive vibes here.  If I see otherwise I will hunt you down Jay and Silent Bob style and take a baseball bat to your knees kid.

Thanks for all the support and I hope to write some ill shit for you soon.