For the Love of The Game

By Cupid (C-Love)

Let us be candid. The lyrical tongue – the one that woos women, recites sonnets and soliloquies – is dead.  And with it goes the bulk of my ability to unite lovers both in carnality and in matrimony. Alas! This day and age in which we find ourselves with the Twitters and the MyFace makes our loving sentiments pithier than they ought to be, and this bastardizes our ability to express our hearts truly. I must adapt! I must choose the most modern and sincere form of lyrical flattery – Gangster Rap Music.

It is gangster rap that most honestly channels the love of our modernity. Consider “Back that ass up” by Juvenile:

Girl, you looks good, won’t you back that ass up 
You’se a fine motherfucker, won’t you back that ass up

Pure Agape, if you ask me. The ability for Rap Music to communicate its warm and loving sentiments across all races and cultures leaves my arrow and I neutered in our ability to spread love. How am I supposed to compete with such flowing mellifluence like “I got hoes in different area codes” or this stunning excerpt from 50 Cent’s “Candy Shop”:

Isn’t it ironic how erotic it is to watch ‘em in thong

Had me thinking ‘bout that ass after I’m gone

Oh, the irony! Well no more will I be a romantic relic. I will take my place among my fellow Lotharios and start to hustle and flow. Move over T-pain, here comes C-Love.

I have adapted a Shakespearian sonnet in hopes that it will find ears that use it justly in wooing a mate for St. Valentine’s day. Enjoy.


Shall I compare thee to my benz with dubz?
Thou art more fine  with dat booty:
Bitches do shake dey ass,
My whip’s lease hath all too shorty, So let’s grind, yeah:
Sometimes too hot is my flow,
And often  my gold grill dimm’d;
And when ya bounce ass I holla atcha
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade; big ups to God
Nor lose possession of that Maserati
Nor shall Death brag, Cause I’m a balla, I ain’t scared
When in eternal lines to time thou growest; whitcha fine-ass self
So long as I can  flow or you can blow,
So long lives God and he gives life to me.


C-love, out.



Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s