The Khalil Amani Reader

Hip-hop/Spirituality/Freethinking. Speaking for all underdogs!

Ahhhhh Yes! The Life of an Old Guy!

By Khalil Amani

Poppy always sayin’ some dumb shit! Now he’s talllumbout Khalil Amani’s swag! In his young mind, old people are supposed to have a certain look—a certain glide in their stride—dip in their hip and wear “age appropriate” clothes. Yes! I’m three years shy of sixty and Poppy has me in a rocking chair. I don’t take Geritol or Viagra! Married though I am, I’ll still fuck a young chick until her eyes roll back in her head and her legs quiver! (And then I'll make her get up and fix me a ham sammach and glass of Red Kool-Aid!)—And believe it or not, this 57 year old man still beez in da hip-hop clubs getting eye-fucked by women young enough to be my daughter. (Well, I am a hip-hop writer, duh?)

I'm so cold with my pen-game and my life is so dope, that I can write about my own adventures and have them published at Allhiphop.com, "The World's Most Dangerous Site!" LOL I was 54 then.

My chirr’ren and my grandchirr’ren think I’m the coolest, hippest dad/granddad evaaaar! Why just last year I took my 16 year old grandson to his first concert to see Lil Wayne! Tallumbout brownie cool points! That’ll be some shit he talks about at my eulogy! LOL. I regularly spend Saturdays with my teenage grandchildren at the movies or walking through the mall. They will actually call me on a Saturday morning and say, “What we doing today grandpa?” How cool is that? And my younger grandchildren?! The look on their faces when grandaddy says we’re about to go scooter riding!

About to go see Lil Wayne with grandson! Cool points! Giuseppe's on my feet! 

My grand babies love me! 

Poppy thinks I’m a “parasite.” (Sigh) He thinks that my life revolves around getting on YouTube and correcting his (and Star’s) Afrika Bambaataa narrative. This writing thingy? It comes very easy to me! Writing is soothing to my soul—so much so that I wrote eight (8) books, six of which are published—and I don’t mean those little Malachi York pamphlets that they calls “books.” I’m tallumbout six books, each of them 200+ pages with the longest book being a 373 page memoir about my life in a Hebrew Israelite cult and having to join the Federal Witness Protection Program. See how that works, Poppy? I’ve written about my life as a Government Informant, so understand you ain’t “outing” nobody over here! I was formerly in the Witness Protection Program, so state my life correctly to your audience. My cult leader was a pedophile and a murderer and I helped put his ass away. I was vociferous (crying out noisily) about putting my pedophile leader away, so much so that I didn’t care if the streets labeled me a “snitch” or “rat.” (Go ask those Italian gentlemen known as "Mafiosos" the real meaning of "snitch" and "rat" and then tell Poppy that his ghetto-esque critique of Khalil Amani's work with the government does not meet or pass the "snitch" mustard.)

A murderer of black people and a pedophile amongst children has got to go! Poppy says he has info that can put Bambaataa in jail? When are you gonna pull the (figurative) trigger and snitch? Poppy’s problem is that he has more love for the streets than he has love for justice. (But this blog ain’t about that! We tallumbout how cool Khalil Amani is!)

Somebody tell Poppy that Khalil Amani can't be "Outed" for being a federal agent! A Government Informant! A snitch & rat (according to stupid street Negroes) I wrote a 373-page book and been on national TV tallumbout this shit! Sitcho-ass down somewhere Poppy! 

Yes! Poppy is intrigued with Khalil Amani’s fashion sensibilities and his “Benjamin Button” way of living life. I don’ done all the serious stuff in life! Graduated from college, wrote books, lectured all over the country, bought homes, raised chirr’ren, married, sat at the feet of Yahweh Ben Yahweh and Kwame Ture aka Stokely Carmichael, etc. etc. etc. Can’t the old guy have a little fun? I mean, like, how many years do I really have on this planet? Maybe twenty if I’m lucky! I refuse to live these twilight years like Poppy and society expects me to live and act! If Poppy was thinking correctly, he would look at my life and think, “There’s hope for me! Maybe I ain’t gotta be some old geezer—mad and disgruntled and upset at 50 over being 'thighed' by Bambaataa.” Indeed! There is life after having a dick betwixt your thighs!

Maybe all of the men in Poppy’s family are some Hai Karate/Old Spice-smelling, leisure suit-wearing, Stacy Adams-struttin’, comb-over-covered coiffured, five-on-the-black-hand-side, Rico Suave’, Depends drawhs & all, Merengue & Bachata dancing old chicos.

I’m not looking to be known for exposing Afrika Bambaataa. Exposing Bambaataa is just one cog in the wheel of the Amani train. That is not my legacy! My legacy is writing hella books and having them catalogued in the Library of Congress in Washington, DC. My legacy is being an advocate for gay, lesbian, bi and trans people in hip-hop and the world. I am on the right side of history! Legacy equals doing dope shit—and I do dope shit, like write the first book on homophobia in hip-hop! I do dope shit, like writing for world famous, iconic and the “Gatekeeper of All Things Hip-Hop,” the “Drama King”—DJ Kay Slay’s Straight Stuntin Magazine! I do dope shit, like being interviewed in Spin Magazine! I do dope shit, like writing a book about my life and seeing it played out on national TV! (And the movie is coming! Bet that on Jesus’s sandals!)

Poppy! This is my legacy! 2000 pages of published work! In my The Mack voice, "Can you dig that muthafucka!?" 

I do dope shit, like hanging out in South Beach Miami nightclubs and schmooze with hawt chicks! My life and story is bigger than YouTube! I’ve told my story on three (3) national TV shows and a fourth one on the ID (Investigative Discovery) channel airing this year, so set your DVR! This back and forth Internet banter—I do for shits & giggles!

South Beach Miami at Club Play. Chicks love my ol' rusty-crusty-ass! LOL!

Poppy says that I’m old enough to be his daddy. Indeed! If I were your daddy I would’ve protected you from a pedophile like Bambaataa! I would’ve taught you respect for people of varying sexual identities! You would’ve finished high school and maybe college and been known for your brains, not your brawn! None of my five children are criminals or street thugs and none of my children are murderers—or people who beat murder raps! My children are upstanding citizens. That’s how I would’ve raised you Poppy!

Stop rating my fashion sensibilities and life, Poppy! That’s a female trait. Let my life be proof-positive that getting older is not about conformity. Prince sang, “Act your age, not your shoe size!”—and then Aaliyah came along and sang, “Age ain’t nothin’ but a number!”

At the end of the day, my legacy is signed, sealed and delivered! My children can be proud of the work their father put in on this earth, so Poppy—be not dismayed because you ain’t never seen’t a 57 year old man this cool, clean, and vibrant! If you only had a daddy in ya life… My swag on fleek!

The great poet, Dylan Thomas wrote about not dying—about fighting with every fiber of one’s being to stay alive in live when he wrote, “Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage against the dying of the light… Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

I’m an old guy with hella swag! Poppy can only hope that his misshapened hairline gets him through his forties! 

See Poppy? I was advocating for gay people way back in 2008, while you were deep into the Zulu Nation's pedophilia. I'm not attacking your child molestation! I'm attacking your assault on gay people! Your stupid-ass attempt to lump gays with pedophiles! That's my "beef" with you!  

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