Dissect - MX1E7 - "Mural" by Lupe Fiasco (PART 2)

Episode Date: May 16, 2023

Our "Lyrical Masters" mixtape series continues with a line by line dissection of "Mural" by Lupe Fiasco from his 2015 album Tetsuo & Youth. Part 2 of 2. Follow @dissectpodcast on Instagram, TikTok, and Twitter. Host/Writer/EP: Cole Cuchna Producer: Justin Sayles Audio Editing: Kevin Pooler Theme Music: Birocratic Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Just in case you missed it in the title, this episode is the second part of our two-part analysis of Lupe Fiasco's mural. If you haven't listened to Part 1, you'll definitely want to before listening to this one. Okay, thanks and enjoy the episode. From Spotify, this is Dissect, long-form musical analysis broken into short digestible episodes. This is part two of our two-part analysis of Lupe Fiasco's mural, the sixth track in our Lyrical Master's mixtape. I'm your host, Cole Kushner. We concluded our previous episode having reached the end of Muriel's massive 72 bar first verse. It was there we realized that the verse's final word, yeah, is heard precisely at

four minutes and 24 seconds, the exact halfway mark of this 8 minute and 48 second track. We also observed how the first, middle, and final bars of the verse, used the pronoun we, the only three times it's used in the verse. Combine this with the fact that the album Tetsuo and Youth, a two-part title, is divided into parts by seasonal interludes, and that Lupe says early on, first part of a party that I throw in parts, There seems to be growing evidence that Lupe is intentionally constructing this song an album symmetrically. Fitting of the title mural, it's not unlike the common practice of artists using mathematical symmetry to structure and compose their pieces, be it visual art or architecture. At this point, it's unclear whether or not murals' perfectly divided two-part song structure has a deeper symbolic meaning.

But we're only halfway through the song, so let's keep this in mind as we embark on mural's second verse. Then it unties, then it relax, then it relapsed, then a detox, then heat back like a heat pack on his kneecaps at the wee spot, because he want what we got like, yeah. Our watery, not scorching nor sorbity from the steel orbiting, sorcerer, raw sorcery, coming down gorgeously. Directly after Lupe's final bar in verse 1, there's an extended musical break that seems to serve a few functions. First, it acts as a brief respite, a chance to catch our collective breaths and process the onslaught of the 72 deeply layered bars we just experienced. And because the song has no hook, the break is a necessary dividing line between the two verses. But beyond this, there also seems to be a thematical and symbolic purpose for this break.

Recall that at the end of verse 1, Lupe compared his music to a drug that we crave when it's gone. Like the brief beat stoppage after the sunrise and sunset imagery, his absence during this instrumental break might be meant to induce that craving, in that we want him to keep going. Of course, he does continue eventually, kicking off verse 2 by rapping, then forge poetry like a young Honorary Morrissey. The word forge has a number of definitions, and Lupe seems to be taking advantage of most of them.

First, it means to advance gradually but steadily, which is a fitting verb choice here at the start of verse 2, as Lupe continues to advance or forge through this nine-minute epic. Forge also refers to forming metal by heating and then beating it into shape. This then continues the heat-pack motif heard at the end of verse 1. But what Lupe is forging is poetry, which is once again self-referential to the current track as he beats out his fire poetry over this fire beat. The comparison to English singer and lyricist Morrissey is clever in that Morrissey was the frontman for the band The Smiths,

and a blacksmith is someone who forges metal into tools. So do you get it? Lupe is the black Morrissey. He's a black smith. But also consider that Forge is a homophone for Forge, as in Forgery. In this reading, the line would refer to someone attempting to pass off their writing as poetry, or directly copying someone else. This dual meaning sets the stage for the next lines,

as they can equally apply to Lupe, the real poet, or the fraud. He raps, then spit it to the Golden Lock Thoughts, who like their porridge all watery, not scorching nor sorbity. The word choice, then spit it, maintains the illusion to fire, as in spitting hot fire,

which is often used to describe rapping, a la Dave Chappelle's dial-on character. Golden Locks and porridge begins an analogy based on the classic kids' tale Goldilocks and the three bears, where a little girl tries the porridge of three bears declaring one too hot, one too cold, and one just right. Lupe uses this framework to describe golden-locked thoughts, who like their music not scorching or too hot, nor sorbity or too cold like the frozen dessert. Instead, what's just right for them is all watery or watered

down lacking flavor. The next line describes where this music comes from, the steel orbiting, the source of raw sorcery. The steel orbiting here describe a satellite, the transmission source of the watered down radio hits, which Lupe describes as sorcery, dark supernatural powers used to cast spells and control others. But notice how the steel and steel orbitings continues the blacksmith forge motif, as well as the porridge reference, as steel-cut oats is a main ingredient in some porridge recipes. Sorcerer all sorcery coming down gorgeously. Just like a Stacy Dash waterfall.

I'm on torturing, a waterboarding barbie men like Brazilian carnival. Swimming and feminine bikinis made out of barbersaw. Somebody give them the volleyballs If you love her, don't ever send her to Molly Maas Homie if she lonely, she might end up in McCauley's claws Coming out the closet over goblets down at Monty Gras. Describing the hit songs emitting from radio satellites, Lupé continues, coming down gorgeously,

just like a Stacey-Dash waterfall. The imagery of water raining down alongside a reference to a woman calls back to the line from verse one. I prefer women to rain all over the world. Lupe is comparing the catchy surface-level tunes descending from radio satellites to beautiful women like actress Stacey Dash, perhaps most well known for her role in the 90s classic Clueless, which continues the images from Lupe's childhood established in verse 1.

But Stacey Dash also starred in Kanye West's music video for All Falls Down, giving way to the wordplay of Coming Down Gorgeously and Water Fall. The following line clarifies the analogy, a more torture rain than a waterboarding Barbie doll. Lupe compares radio hits to being tortured by a beautiful woman, a dichotomous experience, like eating candy that tastes good but also kills you. Those songs may be catchy, but they're shallow, and if consumed too much, are torturous, like a song that you hate getting stuck in your head.

Also notice how all this water imagery, rain, waterfalls, waterboarding, is a continuation of the watery porridge analogy, the central metaphor still being that radio music is watered down and lacking substance. This imagery continues into the next lines, a river of women like a Brazilian carnival. This seemingly adds a layer to the previous reference to waterboarding, which we currently associate with the U.S. prison camp in Guantanamo Bay, located in Cuba. Guantanamo translates to land between rivers,

giving way to Luppes, a river of women, and a reference to another Latin country in Brazil. The annual carnival of Brazil features huge parades or rivers of women dressed in extravagant costumes. The biggest, most well-known parade takes place in Rio de Janeiro, with Rio uncoincidentally translating to river. The costumes women wear at this parade typically feature a large feather headdress, wings, and a bikini. This gives way to the line,

swimming in feminine bikinis made out of barbassol. Lupe seems to cleverly play up the idea of a Brazilian wax by referencing the shaving cream brand Barbisol. This extended image of Rivers of Women seems to then transition into a focus on radio hit rappers and their access to women, as Lupe says, if you love her, don't ever send her to Molly. Mollie Mollie Moll is a rapper producer who in 2014 had his house raided by the FBI for alleged

human and animal trafficking. This eventually led to a nearly three-year sentence in 2021 for running an interstate prostitution ring. Uncoincidentally, Molli is of Brazilian descent, continuing the Latin motif. Next we get the line, homie, if she lonely, she might end up in McCauley's clause. The play here is centered on homie, lonely, and McCauley, a reference to Home Alone, starring McColle Colkin. But the line gains to mention when we realize Lupe is simultaneously referencing another Macaulay, which is the name of Robert De Niro's character in the heist film Heat. In one of the film's more memorable scenes, McColley is asked if he's lonely by a love interest while they overlook the Los Angeles skyline.

I'm alone. I am not lonely. You? After admitting she's lonely, McColley and the woman kiss. Understanding that Lupe is clearly referencing this scene, two additional layers in the line revealed themselves. First, Macaulay was a criminal, linking back to the Mollie Mall reference. And second, De Niro sounds a lot like Dijonero, linking back to the Rio Dijonero Carnival reference. Unsurprisingly, Lubei continues to ride the film motif into the next line, coming out the closet over goblets down at Mardi Gras. On one level, this borrows motifs from the Harry Potter franchise, as Harry lived under a closet, and the fourth installment of the series was titled

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Lupe uses this analogy to continue to depict a certain type of woman. Like Brazilian carnival, Mardi Gras is a New Orleans carnival in which women dress up and some indulge in flashing their chest and kissing other women for beads. Pared with the previous line, it seems Lupe is saying that if a certain type of girl is lonely, she'll take part in attention-seeking behavior, i.e. getting drunk with goblets of alcohol and coming out the closet or kissing other women. He also cleverly uses the first word coming as a bridge, as it can be heard as the start of this line, coming out the closet, and the end of the

previous line, she'll end up in Macaulay's claws coming as an orgasming. Lupe then puts a bow on the debauchery motif saying the fame, champagne, walk of shame, lobby call. Looking back, it seems Lupe's depictions of debauchery are describing the lifestyle of the famous and those pursuing fame by proximity. It's the rappers who make watered down radio hits as a means to obtain this lifestyle and the women who flock to these rappers for their fame and wealth. A walk of shame, a play on the Hollywood Walk of Fame describes the aftermath of an alcohol influence one-night stand, where one must walk past strangers the morning after wearing the same clothes as the night before. Considering the three movie references in the past two lines,

it's not a coincidence that Walk of Shame was also the title of a film released in 2014, the year Lupe wrote this song. Champagne Walk a Shame Lobby Call. My rap position was black conditioning activism, ammunition for abolition, missions attacking systems, but they're not after listen unless it's dropping no activation. Are we apps or are we bodies filled with apparitions operating applications stuck inside an Apple prison chicken hacking down low updates that lack religion are we more? Lupe contrasts himself with hollow Hollywood-seeking rappers rhyming my rap position was black condition and activism ammunition for abolition missions attacking systems recalling the line from verse one I was reporting when I was poor

Lupe's goal with his music has been to report on the conditions of black Americans and inspire change through activism He maintains a military motif throughout, with his words and songs being ammunition and military missions meant to attack or take shots at our current system in order to abolish it. Cleverly, the dense four-syllable rhyme scheme here resembles a firearm, with black condition, activism, ammunition, abolition, and attacking systems, discharging rapidly from Lupe's verbal assault weapon. He continues the scheme and theme into the next line, but they're not apt to listen unless it's dropping on Activision.

Adjacent to his radio music for the masses critique, Lupe calls out the general public for not paying attention to his messages, as they're too consumed with mindless entertainment like video games. Activision is the producer of popular military games like Call of Duty, which maintains the military motif as well as creates a layer of irony, as millions of people will play war games without a clue to the actual wars happening in the world. In other words, they care more about Activision than activism. The video game reference is also the first of many more references to come, beginning a motif that's not only developed in mural, but also in Tetsuo and youth as a whole, which culminates with its final song, They Resurrect Over New, an acronym for the 80s video game, Tron.

Lupe then extends the idea rapping, Are We Apps or Are We Bodies Filled with Apparitions, operating applications stuck inside an Apple prison? The word apparition, used to mean ghosts or spirits, has biblical origins. It's what the three wise men were referred to when appearing in front of the infant Jesus. Thus, Lupe seems to be asking if we're merely avatars in a matrix, mechanically performing operations like a computer program, or are we spiritual beings with souls meant to live much richer, meaningful lives? He could also be alluding to the idiom, Ghost in the Machine, which was originally used to describe the idea of dualism, that the mind and the body are separate entities, with

the mind being the Ghost in the Machine, the Body. More recently, Ghost in the Machine has been used to describe a glitch in a computer system, as if it's operating on its own accord, like a ghost is in the computer. Both uses of the phrase fit Lupe's philosophical musing on the nature of man, questioning where we end and technology begins, opening a potentially endless rabbit hole of existential ideas we have in the time for in this episode. The reference to an Apple prison extends the military motif while also serving to comment on our increasing dependence on technology, as we're imprisoned by and addicted to our various devices. But think of the Apple computer logo, an Apple with a bite taken out of it, and we understand that Lupe's also extending the

spiritual or religious motif, recalling Adam and Eve taking a bite of the apple from the tree of knowledge. This intention is seemingly confirmed in the following line. Chicken hacking download updates that lack religion. Calling back to the chicken motif early in verse 1, Lupe compares chicken pecking to our fingers tapping our phones, an unflattering image that continues his depiction of our indulgence in mindless entertainment. Downloading updates represents small advances in technology, and when paired with that lack religion, Lupe seems to be implying a causal relationship between technological advancement and spirituality, and that the more we advance in the former, the further away we get from the latter. He then abruptly stops his rapid-fire delivery,

and with dramatic pause asks, or are we more? It's an effective moment in its simplicity, a question posed directly to his audience meant to inspire thought about the fundamental nature of who we are and why we're here. It's the same timeless question that countless religions and philosophies attempt to answer. Yet, as a collective species, we seem no more closer to answering the question than we did thousands of years ago. And it seems Lupe is calling our attention to the fact that many of us aren't even asking the question in the first place, content as we are with the increasingly sophisticated and immersive ways we can distract and entertain ourselves. I mean, all, are we more? Then soil, tainting, disloyal change links, Pia, I get proud

with boy and goy, chasing and foiling others royal sanctings. I sit back and watch the world through eye-holes in my oil paintings. Uh, ain't nothing to it but to do it. Unless you virgin Mary, nothing. Do it but to trust, believe all that, unless you judge. Life is not a dictionary. It's a desiris, and I feel like a missionary to a clitoris. The water bearer air of traditions that I swear to never change my chair position or conditions of my porridge. Submission for sedition against the religion of a chorus.

Keep them golden weed thieves out the motherfucking forest. Lupé's question, Or Are We More, is extended as he continues his rapid fire delivery. Are we more than soil tainting, disloyal changelings, preoccupied with boy and goyle chasing, and foiling other royal saintings? Here we get one of Lupe's more impressive and poetic string of references. First, soil tainting feels like a description of our damaging impact on the Earth's natural environment, with Lupe seeming to ask if we're more than destroyers of the Earth, if our legacy ultimately will or can be anything other than that. He then says, disloyal changelings. Changeling has three main definitions, all of which find some relevance here.

First, it refers to an infant or child secretly exchanged for another. This stems from European folklore, where it was thought that fairies exchanged her deformed offspring for a human infant, who were then given to the devil. Second, changeling references a changeable, fickle person. Given that Lupe says disloyal changeling, this definition has the most immediate relevance, proposing that without strong beliefs or a moral value system, we are flimsy and prone to pledge our allegiance to whatever benefits us most in the moment. Given the video game motif, there's also a possibility that Lupe is referencing the 1995 video game called Changeling,

where player characters are changelings, fairy souls reborn into human bodies, which resembles the definition of ghosts in the machine. Finally, changeling could also refer to a person of deficient intelligence, calling back to the previous Golden Lock thoughts and Lupe's critique of the masses. Next, Lupe says, preoccupied with boy and goyle chasing. With goyel sounds, sounding like girl, the service play here is on boy and girl chasing that were caught up in a romantic or sexual pursuits of the opposite sex. But the substitution of girl for goyle, short for gargoyle, continues the medieval, grotesque imagery of changeling. In dictionaries, gargoyle is also defined as an ugly woman, so lupa substituting girl for goyle works at a technical level as well. Finally,

Goyle is the name of Draco Malfoy's friend in Harry Potter, calling back to Lupe's Potter reference a few bars back. Lupe then ends his question, and foiling others' royal saintings. With foil meaning to defeat or ruin, it appears he's continuing to describe a lack of religion or spirituality in modern times, as we poke holes in the logic of religious texts and ideas in favor of scientific and technological advancements. And so if we simplify Lupe's entire question to its core, it translates to something like, are we more than earth-destroying sex and entertainment-seeking avatars with no loyalty to each other or a higher purpose and divine entity. He then continues with the line,

I sit back and watch the world through the eyes and my oil paintings. Back in 2014, Lupe said he spends more time painting than he does writing raps, and Tetsuone used album cover is actually one of Lupe's original paintings, titled Man Eating Tiger. Within the context of the song, Lupe is depicting a portrait of himself observing the world and asking questions about it. Spying on a subject through eye holes cut out of hung paintings is a film and cartoon trope, perhaps most well known from Scooby-Doo, continuing the childhood motif.

It's also a literal image of Lupe hiding behind his art, unbeknownst to the passerby of the painting, perhaps a comment on his artful music going unnoticed by the general public. He then continues by slowing down his flow saying, Ain't nothing to it but to do it. This is a catchphrase attributed to famous bodybuilder Ronnie Coleman, who said, there's no secrets or magic tricks to being successful in life. It's plain and simple. Work harder than everybody else.

and the only way to do that is to do it. It may sound silly, but it's the truth. There ain't nothing to it but to do it. The phrase was also said by Martin Lawrence in an episode of the 90s show Martin. Playing off the wording of this catchphrase, Lupe says, Unless you virgin Mary, nothing do it but the truest.

It's a reference to the biblical story of Jesus' mother Mary being impregnated not by sex, not by doing it, but through the Holy Spirit of God. The following line, believe all that unless you Jewish, extends the motif, as Jews don't believe Jesus to be the Messiah, nor hold the belief Mary conceived him miraculously. He then says, life is not a dictionary, it's a thesaurus. While dictionaries offer definitive descriptions, a thesaurus provides multiple synonyms for a given word. By nature, it allows for variation, all equally acceptable.

Within the religious motif at the previous bars, Lupe seems to be conveying that, despite being a practicing Muslim, he feels all belief systems can coexist harmonious. Lupe's own eclectic interest in a variety of disciplines, from martial arts to quantum mechanics, to poetry and literature, seem to confirm this notion, that perhaps the most rich and fulfilling life is the one most open. Lupe then continues, and I feel like a missionary to a clitoris. Once again, he synthesizes the religious and sexual wordplay that began with the Virgin Mary do-it lines. With this in mind, we realize the intentional play on the Dick and Dictionary from the previous line. Missionary is both a sexual position and

someone who travels on behalf of a religious organization to propagate its faith. Meanwhile, a clitoris is the most sensitive, pleasure-centric part of the female genitalia. The missionary position doesn't provide much stimulation to the clitoris, so it seems like Lupe is once again saying that his music, his art, his mission isn't being received well by the masses. Also, a missionary is likely someone who celibate and tell marriage, and thus would not have the experience of knowing how to pleasure a woman, so the analogy works that way as well. This idea extends into the next lines. The water-based, Arab traditions. The water bearer is the symbol for Aquarius, Lupe's actual zodiac sign. It's here we realize, like the Dick and dictionary, Lupe is springboarding off the

torus, another zodiac sign, for the previous clitoris. Fittingly, the water bearer is known for symbolically and internally giving life and spiritual food to the world. Concerned with equality and individual freedom, Aquarius seeks to dispense its knowledge and its vision of equality and individuality to all. This resembles the meaning we just discussed behind Lupe's line, Life is not a dictionary, it's a thesaurus. It also reflects his general belief that his music is not simply profit-bearing ear candy, but meant to deliver a message to the world.

Lupe then plays off the bearer and bearer to return to the Goldilocks and the Three Bears' wordplay, which began all the way back at the beginning of the verse. He wraps, I swear to never change my chair position or conditions of my porridge. Unlike the fickle, changeling Goldilocks, who moves from chair to chair, porridge to porridge. Lupe is devoted to and will not waver from his substance-based position and rap, nor will he attempt to make his music hotter to appease the masses. In this way, the water bear might also be a play on his record label Atlantic,

like the ocean, his so-called cross to bear. This gives way to the lines, submission for sedition against the religion of a chorus, keep them golden-weave thieves out the motherfucking forest. Masterfully, Lupe threads together the religious music industry and Goldilock motifs. With sedition defined as speech inciting people to rebel against the authority of a state or monarch, Lupe's music is his submission for sedition, which is attacking the religious of a chorus, the music industry's doctrine of catchy choruses or hooks. Notably,

mural contains no hooks. It is itself the submission for sedition, an anti-radio near nine-minute attack on Atlantic and what they represent. As perhaps these record executives that Lupe calls the Golden Weave thieves invading the forest, It's of course a play on Goldilocks, but with Golden Relating to Money or Wealth, Keep Them Golden Weave Thieves Out the Mother fucking Forest, portrays Goldilocks as a thief who broke into the Bear's house in the forest and stole their food and invaded their privacy. It's a story of privilege and exploitation,

when Lupe is likening to the music industry and the gold-seeking record execs. Golden Weave Thieves also resembles the Goldilocks thoughts from the original analogy, which is symbolic of those who consume commercial music. As I perform a nerve-storn, I prefer my pictures of word form buried a hatchet like high bird bomb as i paint cone pictures like coolate face and condensation having conversations with flavorful combinations slave to my concentration so that's o j the juice man meets o j with two hands and two gloves that's too snug to judge who was who drew blood and lubei look at all these two cans as we reach the middle of the

verse lupé wraps as i perform a nerd storm i prefer my pictures in word form it's another meta-reference to the mural he's currently painting with the torrents of nerdy bars raining down on us. Preferring his pictures in word form once again recalls the saying, a picture is worth a thousand words, and with mural containing over a thousand words, by this definition, he's literally painting a picture. The next line, bury the hatchet like how a bird-borne cites the idiom bury the hatchet, which means to make peace or end an argument or grudge. The phrase's origin dates back to the 17th century, when English settlers observed a Native American ceremony in which hatchets and weapons were literally buried to symbolize peace. Lupe plays off the hatch and hatch it to say, like how a bird born,

as birds of course hatch from eggs. It recalls the chicken and roosters of verse one, as well as sets up a number of bird references will hear momentarily. But first, Lupe continues, as I paint cold pictures, like Kool-Aid facing condensation. Now the phrase, as I paint cold pictures, should sound familiar, since Lupe said this same phrase back on verse one. While we've heard Lupe call back to several past references and images throughout mural, this is the only time he'll actually repeat a phrase verbatim, which knowing Lupe feels like a signal to his nerd gang to dig a little deeper into the line. First, if we compare where I Paint Cold Pictures sits in their respective verses,

we find that both are in the exact same place, bar number 35. This is yet another occurrence of symmetry in the track, in line with the song being split perfectly in half, and the word we only appearing in the exact beginning, middle, and end of the first verse. But let's also think about that number 35 in relation to the line itself. I paint cold pictures. Also remember that Lupe just said he prefers his pictures in word form, and that a picture is worth a thousand words. Well, what are physical pictures traditionally taken with?

35 millimeter film. And while both the cemetery and the 35 millimeter film reference to me feels pretty intentional, I do have to point out something else about this line with the caveat that it could just be coincidence. In verse 1, Lupe says, I paint cold pictures like Nova Scotia landscapes, which sets us up to think about this line when we first hear as I paint cold pictures in verse 2. Also recall just before this line in verse 2, Lupe referenced Bearing the Hatchet, a phrase with Native American origins that refers to peace ceremonies between warring parties. Well, it just so happens that one of the most significant bearing the hatchet ceremonies occurred in Nova Scotia in 1761, between the British Empire

and the Mekma people, ending 75 years of. of conflict. The treaty and ceremony is even celebrated annually by Nova Scotians on October 1st of every year. If this reference is intentional, it means that Lupe created an entendre that spans across verses, using the symmetry between the lines as a clue, knowing his most dedicated listeners would follow the breadcrumbs. Again, could be simply coincidental, but with Lupe, you just never know. Another twist in this line is revealed when we continue to analyze verse 2, as Lupe says, as I paint cold pictures like Kool-Aid face in condensation. While the surface play is that a cold drink creates condensation,

Lupe is also creating a homophone with pictures, as it also sounds like pitchers, referencing the Kool-Aid man, which is a pitcher of red Kool-Aid with a face drawn in the condensation, hence face-in condensation. It's literally a cold pitcher that's also a cold picture. He continues, having conversations with flavorful combinations. Like someone talking to a Kool-Aid pitcher with a face on it,

We listeners are conversing with Lupe's cold pitcher and its flavorful combinations, its complex lyricism. This gives way to a slave to my concentration as we slave over the product of Lupe's mind or concentration, which produces concentrated or extremely potent lyrics. We also recognize that Kool-Aid as a powdered concentrate mixed with water, and Lupe extends this idea into another concentrate-based drink, orange juice. He wraps, so that's O.J. the Juice Man meets O.J. with two hands and two gloves, that's too snug, two judge, who was,

Who drew blood. First, we have to acknowledge the incredible density of the rhyme scheme here, with gloves, snug, judge, was, and blood, all rhyming, and two, the number, two, as in too much, two, the preposition, and who and drew all rhyming as well. Conceptually, Lupe plays off the juice concentrate motif to cite OJ. The Juice Man, an Atlanta rapper associated with Gucci-Main who released a slew of trap mixtapes in the late 2000s. This is followed by a reference to O.J. Simpson and his famous murder trial in which two black gloves found the crime scenes were too snug to fit OJ's hands during the trial, which led to the catchphrase, if the gloves don't fit, you must acquit. Thus, if you combine the two OJs, OJ's, OJ the Juice Man and OJ

Simpson, you get a killer rapper, i.e. Lupe fiasco. Hence we get the line, and Lupe look at all these toucans. It's a callback to the line, like how a bird-borne, but also plays into the Kool-Aid mascot reference, as two-can Sam is the mascot of Fruitloop cereal, continuing the childhood imagery while putting down his competition. There's also a strong chance he's nodding to the Cartoon Network show by Jim Partners, a monkey, which literally featured a character name Lupe Tucan. As Miro continues, Lupe will extend this bird motif into three rapid references to various types of birds while also incorporating previous motifs from earlier in the verse. That's right after the break. Welcome back to dissect. Before the break, we heard Lupe boasting about his complex

lyricism through a string of metaphors that included orange juice, cereal, and Kool-Late. As of verse continues, Lupe extends the two-can bird motif by referencing three other types of birds in succession. Eyes, announcing out of doubt and mouth pronounces out of Chocular counts by the counts of five. Refrigerator roof full of animals and monsters, incinerator shoots in the manual for contra. Lupe continues, Lupe looks at all these two cans in a cemetery full of tomahawks. The hawk and tomahawk continues the bird motif, while the line overall calls back to the idea

of bearing the hatchet, a cemetery where tomahawks, a variation of hatchets, are buried. Both ideas are associated with Native Americans, and the inclusion of a cemetery evokes the genocide of indigenous peoples. America is quite literally a cemetery full of tomahawks or indigenous people. Giving middle fingers to the pigeons doing somersaults paints an image of these two cans flipping off pigeons, yet another bird reference. But a pigeon doing somersaults presumably in the air is quite literally a flipping bird, a play on flipping the bird, which of course ties into the middle finger. The bird motif continues, roadrunners don't fall off cliffs, they run across. It's an image from the Looney Tunes cartoon, where Wildeee Coyote pursues the Roan Runner, who is able to run across

the air from cliff to cliff while Wilde falls to the ground. Lupe here seems to be playing with the idea of falling off, used to describe rappers who were once hot but fail to sustain their relevant skill or success. In this way, Lupe is claiming he'll never fall off, leading to the line, anomalies by the colony, flukes by the reservoir. Anomolee is a deviation from the norm, so Anomalies by the Colony is kind of an oxymoron. Lupe seems to be describing his core fans, an exceptional group of individuals interested in his art and wordplay, who will follow him loyally even if he stops making commercially appealing music. Given the wording, specifically the use of colony, does the chance Lupe is continuing the

indigenous genocide motif, as anomalies could allude to the idea of American exceptionalism used to justify the slaughtering, while Colony evokes European colonialism in North America. Lupe then returns to the Roadrunner reference, saying, wild in pursuers end up as poofs on the desert floor. He uses the Anamonopoeia poof, as in to suddenly vanish, to visualize his wilden pursuers, who, like Wilde, fall from the cliff and make a cloud of sand when they hit the ground. In this metaphor, it's likely Lupe's pursuers are the record executives, the coyotes

looking to eat or profit off him. Returning to his fan base, he says, Levitating Yuce, who know the truth of where the fountain hides. It's a play on the fountain of youth, with levitating continuing the suspended and imagery of the Roadrunner and likely implying elevated consciousness. As such, this intelligent colony of Lupe fans knows where the truth resides in his lyrics. Also notice how Lupe contrasts a fountain of water with the previous image of his detractors in the waterless desert. Lupe then caps off the roadrunner motif saying, Buckaroo roof painting tunnels onto the mountain sides. This recalls a

recurring scene in the cartoon, where Wild E would be tricked by a painting of a tunnel on the side of a mountain and run into it full speed. The inclusion of Bukaru Roo, likely refers to the 80s sci-fi film The Adventures of Bukaru Bonsai across the 8th Dimension, where the main character Bukaru develops a device that allows an object to pass through solid matter, and he tests it by driving his jet car through a mountain and ends up in another dimension. So while Lupe's detractors run into the mountain like Wilde, he and his fans are able to drive through to another dimension, continuing the elevated consciousness motif. He then continues 1,000 parts, a pound of heart, an ounce of eyes. With a human

heart weighing about 10 ounces and two eyeballs weighing about half an ounce. Loube here might be expressing an opinion that the heart, what we feel, is more important than what we see. Abstracted further, the universe or existence contains more than we can perceive, so we must rely on what we believe. If this is what he meant, it would align with the elevated consciousness motif running through the last few lines. He then says, announcing now the doubt in mouth, pronounces out a count of lies. Just as we can't fully trust what we see, this line seems to cast the out in the reliability of the things we say, alluding to our tendency to lie when faced with the things we don't understand. Lupe then springboards off the count of lies into the next line.

Chocula counts by the count of five, refrigerator roof full of animals and monsters, incinerator shoots, and the manual for Contra. It appears to describe little five-year-old Lupe eating Count Chocula's cereal, as well as the description of the cereal boxes stored on top of his refrigerator. Meanwhile, an incinerator shoot was likely used wherever he lived when he was younger, and Contra references the late 80s, early 90s video game for the original Nintendo system. Notice the wordplay with incinerator shoot here, as Contra was what's called a running gun shooter game, and an incinerator burns garbage while Contra characters shoot flame throwers. And of course, Lupe would definitely be the type to read the instruction manual.

Assorted memories from my childhood, absorb an energy from the wild woods, electronic combat, Konami signed contract, Chinese char, killing kukarachas on. Contact, Chicago, spread gun Officianado, efficient spitting bridge and divisions isn't Chicano. Who's the boss? If it isn't, listen, Milano, do the cough, ninja mission into the Congo, polarize envy of the older guys,

Black Obi-Shanobi, hitting Kenno in the face with all my throwing knives. Sub-Zero guiding, hiding, hiding, and the pack as well, Sound Village, Sleep, Dodge, Dodger Rain, and Casual, Video Game, and Juice references as assorted memories from my childhood. He then gives us another memory. absorbing energy from the Wildwoods. Wildwood is a soda company produced in Lupe's hometown of Chicago, so the energy Lupe's absorbing is sugar. The next line, Electronic Combat, Konomi signed contract,

cites the Japanese company Konomi who made Contra, but the signed contract makes clear Lupe is beginning another motif, or rather returning to one, the battle or combat between him and his record label in the war of the music industry, which began the moment he signed a contract, like a youth joining the military. He then continues, Chinese chalk killing cucarachas on contact. Chinese chalk is a potent incesticide used to kill cucarachas, Spanish for cockroaches. It continues the contra, military, and warfare motifs, and its likely Lupe is likening his pen to the deadly chalk,

because he's a killer MC, returning to the OJ references a few lines back. He then name drops his hometown, saying, Chicago, spray gun, aficionado. This continues the contra reference, as a spray gun is one of the recurring weapons you can use in the game. Chicago is also a city known for its gun violence, making it an aficionado or very well versed in this subject. Lupe could also be referring to spray paint guns, such as the ones used to paint large murals in his city. Finally, the line is also self-referential, once again citing Lupe's weapons of choice, his pen and his voice, which sprays or spits deadly lyrics.

This becomes more clear with the next line. Efficient, spitting, bridging divisions isn't Chicano. Notice now the Spanish motif of the past three lines, cucaracha's, officianado, which stems from the Spanish word officinar, and now Chicano, which is an American of Mexican origin or descent. On one hand, this line sustains the reference to himself. He's efficiently spitting rhymes that can bridge divisions. They contain information or ideas that could bring peace in his community. Isn't Chicano is clever in that his name Lupe is an abbreviation of the Spanish name Guadalupe, yet he's not Spanish. He isn't Chicano. Bridging Divisions is also a reference to

the Division Street Bridge in Chicago. He then continues, Who's the boss if it isn't Alyssa Milano? This references another memory from his youth, the 80s and early 90s hit show Who's The Boss, where a young Alyssa Milano played Tony Danza's daughter. Danza's character was a live-in housekeeper for a powerful executive woman, a challenge to stereotypical gender roles. In this way, the line feels like a callback to Lupe's,

I prefer girls to reign all over the world line for verse 1. In other words, who's the boss if it isn't a woman? But the idea of a boss also eludes to video games, where it's very common to defeat a boss in order to advance to the next level or beat the game. So Lupe's continuing that motif while also alluding to the overall boss structure of Tetsuo in youth, an idea we'll discuss in detail later in this episode. Lupe then introduces a new motif with the next line, Dutikov, Ninja Mission, into the Congo.

Adding to Lupe's growing list of assorted memories from his childhood, Michael Dutikoff is an actor and martial artist who played the lead role in the 1980s American Ninja film franchise, which always requires him to defeat. a boss at the end of the movie. Like Dutnikov, Lupe is an American ninja, not only a master lyricist with a deadly pin, but a literal ninja. Lupe started karate when he was just three years old and has four black belts in martial arts and two in samurai swords. He then says, Ninja Mission into the Congo, polarize envy of the older guys, black Obi, Shinobi hitting Keno in

the face with all my throwing knives. Lupe touts himself to be a black Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Jedi Master in Star Wars. Obie and Japanese is the name of a sash or belt worn with martial arts attire, so Lupe seems to be boasting his black belt status as well. Shinobi continues the ninja motif, as it's the Japanese synonym for ninja. It's also the name of the 1989 Nintendo game in which the ninja protagonist has to defeat a boss named Kenno, and throwing daggers are one of the game's main weapons. Thus we get hitting Kenno in the face with all my throwing knives, which continues the boss motif, as well as playing off the Kenno and Obi-Wan Kenobi. But Kenno also sounds a bit like Cano, a character from the video game Mortal Kombat.

Cano's special move was a knife throw, and he was the leader of the Black Dragon Clan, tying into the black and throwing nice motifs of these bars. This gives way to a more overt reference to Mortal Kombat as he says, Sub-Zero, Guiding, hiding, riding, riding in the pack as well. Sub-Zero is one of the more popular characters from Mortal Kombat, and he is, of course, a ninja. Cleverly, Lupe uses three successive homophones as guiding, hiding, hiding, and he is a ninja. and riding, could also be heard, Gaiden, as in Ninja Gaiden, the name of another 80s Nintendo game,

Haydn, the Japanese word for a sacred shrine commonly associated with martial art schools, and Ryden, as in the Cyborg Ninja from the Metal Gear Solid video game, and the Mortal Kombat character. Lupe's barrageo references continue, Sound Village, Leaf Village, Wolf Spirit, Magic Spells. The Hidden Leaf and the Hidden Sound Villages are two of the Ninja Villages and the anime, Naruto, while wolf spirit likely refers to night wolf from mortal combat, whose spirit animal is a wolf. Magic spells might refer to Jutsu from Naruto, which are mystical arts used in battle.

In early English versions of Naruto, Jutsu was translated to spells. The next line, dodging rain and catching hail, contains a few layers. Rain is a villain character for mortal combat, hence Lupe dodging him. But Rain, as in being ruled over, would seem to apply to Lupe's refusal to be controlled by his record label, and he therefore catches hell for it, referring to his long conflict with the executives at Atlantic. Dodging rain and catching hell. Face sea is knee samurai's to catch the L. Special research vessels made for catching wells.

Filet of fish ships, sea shepherd peppered with extra cells. Rewrite history, liberty needs a better bell. Maybe harder ions and carbon fibers that never fail. Smarter science mixed with our otter lions of fairy tale. Or maybe just a metal pail you hit with steel tools to announce you've had enough and dropping out of seal school just like trout jumping out their house to let they Lubei continues the anime references saying, Faceers need Samurai's to Catch the L.

This is a nod to the anime Death Note, where protagonist Light Yagami adopts the ability to kill anyone whose face and name he knows, hence Lupe's Face Sears. Meanwhile, Catch the L refers to the main antagonist known only by the letter L. Need Samarise to catch likely refers to what's called Shinkin Shirodori, also known as bare-handed blade grip. an anime trope in which a fighter stops a blade by catching it between their hands. Elle could also stand for Lupe and that only the most skilled can catch what he's doing lically. In fact, other MCs wouldn't even understand they've lost or caught the L unless they had the skills to decode what he was saying.

At the same time, L is also the name of the main train system in Chicago, so the play here could be that one needs protection when catching or riding the L train, alluding to the high crime rate in Chicago. He continues, special research vessels made for catching whales. Philea fish ships, sea-shepherded, peppered with extra sails. Lupe pivots to a new subject, alluding to the controversial whaling industry. Given the previous Japanese references, its likely Lupe is referencing the Japanese whaling industry

and its rival activist organization called Sea Shepherd Conservation Society, hence the Sea Shepard Peppered with Extra Sales Line. The Japanese government has called Sea Shepherd ecoterrorist for, quote, impeding the research, which is the context for the line, special research vessels made for catching whales. The feud between Sea Shepherd and the Japanese whaling industry was the subject of the Discovery Show Whale Wars. Notably, in 2014, around the time Lupe would be working on Tetsuo and youth, the International Court of Justice ruled that the Japanese whaling program was not for scientific purposes, and ordered Japan to immediately cease its

operation. The main purpose of whale hunting is for meat, and with the inclusion of filial fish, a McDonald's fish sandwich, it seems Lupe is more generally commenting on the commercial fishing industry, including fish farms, which incentivizes profit at the expense of the environment and marine life. There's also a double meaning in Filet of Fish ships sea shepherded peppered with extra sales, as sales as a hominin for sales, the French word for salt, tying into his use of peppered. It might be alluding to the extra salt or sodium as well as the many additives contained in fast food. For example, despite the filet of fish's four main parts, bun, fish, cheese, and sauce, The sandwich actually has over 50 ingredients, including hydrogenated soybean oil,

dough conditioner, bleach wheat flour, and more. But stare at this line a little longer and another layer reveals itself, and it once again has to do with Lupe and his rival Atlantic Records. In this reading, Lupe likens the music industry to the commercial fishing industry, with catching whales being huge commercial hits or music superstars, while extra sales would be heard S-A-L-E-S, the chasing of profits through commercially appealing music. The kicker here is that the filet a fish sandwich once used Atlantic cod, a possible allusion to Atlantic records. Lupe then continues, rewrite history, Liberty needs a better bell.

This refers to the crack in the Liberty Bell in Philadelphia, a so-called symbol of American independence and freedom. Lupe uses the crack as the symbol of this false promise of freedom, specifically to Africans who are enslaved and historically disadvantaged, and to the indigenous peoples murdered in the name of manifest destiny. Lupe extends the analogy of a cracked bell in rewriting history, saying, maybe harder irons and carbon fibers that never fail. Technically, Lupe seems to be pointing out that the Liberty Bell is mostly made of copper and tin, both not notable for their strength or hardness as far as materials go. Thus, Lupe suggests harder irons, perhaps steel or the more scientifically advanced carbon fiber,

known for its extreme durability. This gives way to smarter science mixed with an auto lines of fairy tale. The latter part of this line is another anime reference, this time to the Magnus series Fairy Tale, in which the protagonist enters into a wizard guild, a literal odd alliance filled with various wizards, dragons slayers, and flying cats. But it appears Lupe is saying a balance between science and fiction is needed, as fairy tales teach children morals and principles to live by. Lupe concludes the bell motif saying, or maybe just a metal pail you hit with steel tools, to announce that you've had enough and dropping out of seal school. This refers to what's known as

hell week during Navy SEAL training, a grueling five-day test of physical and mental endurance in which only around 25% of participants complete. Those who drop out must ring a bell to announce their defeat. It's possible Lupe is being self-referential here. At this point, we are eight minutes into the song, and Lupe has wrapped a total of 142 bars. Many attempting to decipher every line have rang the bell by now, and those still trying like myself, are exhausted. At this point in the episode, I've written over 17,000 words analyzing. mural. And believe me, that bell has been extremely tempting. This interpretation is based on the following lines, where Lupe says, just like trout jumping out their house to let their gills cool,

Cuba Scuba couldn't take the temperature of my skill pool. Playing into the seal and navy seals, Lupe returns to the fish motif to describe trout fish jumping out of water, their house, to cool their gills with fresh air. Meanwhile, Cuba Scuba references the movie Men of Honor, in which Cuba Gooding Jr. plays an exceptionally talented black diver who overcomes racist ranking officers to become the first black diver in the Navy program, tying in, of course, to the previous Seals reference. With water getting colder, the deeper you go into the ocean, Cuba's scuba couldn't take the temperature of my skill pool, is a boast that not even Cuba's character could handle how cold Lupe's lyrical skills are. In other words, nobody's as deep as him.

and not following pill rules or have you off the throttle when you should be model and chill move Roll escape maker You just cobbling wheel shoes Overweight taster A king's fool that kills crews Oblivious featherweight baker

Who are to grab cakes Whenever it's quill moves Over your meal used Simple as a Buddhist monk in the temple Standing in some hill grooves With the abbot practicing stillness Real still till you realize it's realness Defeats Samsamsara

Nivvana and brilliance Yeah Lupe continues the verse I said it feels cool to kill fools. Here it seems Lupe's referencing an early concept heard in both Lupe's song called The Cool from its debut album Food and Liquor and his sophomore album The Cool. In both, the cool is used to symbolize the chase for fame and success, what Lupe described as the quote,

damaging influences and corrupt allure of post-millennial urban America, unquote. Part of this is the glorification of murder and hip-hop, which Lupe has long criticized. The next line continues the analogy, slipping through the cracks like when you try to grill gruel. The idiom slipping through the cracks is used to mean neglected or ignored, particularly in a social system. It's perhaps most commonly used to describe youth who drop out of school, which relates back to those who have been enticed by pursuing the cool. And it's here we realize that Lupe has subtly been building a school motif throughout the past handful of bars.

There's the school of fish jumping out of the water to let their gills cool. Another reference to the pursuit of the cool. There's a direct reference of dropping out of school in the Navy Seals line. there's smarter science in the Autoliance Bar, the bell as in a school bell in the Liberty Bell reference, the subject of history and rewrite history, and the research in special research vessels. There was also the illusion of the dangers of the L train in Chicago,

so it would seem Lupe has been building this motif of public school systems, perhaps recalling his own youth, but also describing or criticizing the current systems that fail our youth, leading them to drop out and pursue the cool. The second half of the line, slipping through the cracks like when you try to grill gruel, paints an image of oatmeal or porridge on a grill, falling through the iron gates. It's a callback to Lupe's claim to never change the temperature of his porridge.

He's not altering his music to be hotter on the streets by pursuing the cool or rapping about murder. He follows with the line, Techno Viking Waterbottle and not following pill rules will have you off the throttle when he should be modeling chill mood. First we acknowledge the clever wordplay of Viking connecting with the grill reference, as Viking is a popular brand of barbecue grills. Techno Viking Waterbottle is a reference to a viral video and meme back in 2006. It takes place at a techno parade in Berlin, Germany,

where a muscular, shirtless man with a long beard and hammer a Thor necklace is seen drinking from a water bottle handed to him by a stranger, and then proceeds to dance wildly to techno music while walking the parade. It's as if there was something mystical in the water bottle that inspired the dance, though it seems clear he's on some type of drug. With this context, techno Viking water bottle and not following pill rules is a drug reference. with not following pill rules alluding to the abuse of prescription drugs, another allure of the cool. Perhaps inspired by the idea of Rolling on Molly, a common rave drug in pill form,

Lupe says, Roller Skate Maker, or are you just cobbling wheel shoes? Technically, you can make roller skates by affixing wheels to a normal pair of shoes, but actual roller skates are designed and made for a specific purpose. Lupe uses this idea to pose a question about how one chooses to live their life. Are you crafting a life with purpose, something with consideration and design, or you just simply rolling through life without thought. He extends the idea, returning to the food motif, wrapping, overweight taster of king's food that kills Cruz.

The surface reference is to actual kings who had their food tasted by servants to ensure it wasn't poisoned. These tasters would literally be eating like a king, perhaps even feeling like a king, but putting their lives in danger by doing so. Is an apt analogy following the previous references to drug abuse and gun violence, inherently risky endeavors in the pursuit of the cool.

It also seems to return to the fast food reference a few lines back, with King's food alluding to Burger King and their unhealthy offerings that kills Cruz. He extends the analogy in the next line, Oblivious Featherweight Baker, who autograph cakes whenever his quill moves over your mill you. First we recognize the contrast from overweight taster to now featherweight baker, which given the context implies that this baker does not eat his own products, thus the descriptor oblivious. It feels like a comment on how the producers of things that kill us either don't,

don't know the harm they're doing, they're oblivious, or they do understand the harm and therefore don't consume their own products. The word mill you refers to a person's social environment, and with the addition of autographed and his quill move, it would seem Lupe is once again alluding to other rappers signing their name to and selling a lifestyle that they themselves don't actually live, like a baker that doesn't eat their own cakes. There's also clever wordplay in milieu, as it can be heard meal, as in food, and you, which then bridges into the next line, you're simple as a Buddhist monk in a temple standing in some heel groove with the abbot practicing stillness. Lupe contrasts the pursuit of the cool with the simplicity of a Buddhist monk

meditating alongside an abbot or superior of the Buddhist monastery. Standing in some heel grooves likely refers to a specific monk who made the news in the early 2010s. At the time of the story, this 70-year-old monk had been praying in the same exact spot for over 20 years, and as a result his footprints became deeply ingrained in the wooden floor of his temple. During the first years I would kneel in prayer 2,000 to 3,000 times a day, but I've grown older, so in recent years I've only done around 1,000 each day. The deepest part of the footprints are 3 centimetres deep, there from the balls of his feet.

Pua hopes his ritual will help his journey into the afterlife so that his spirit doesn't suffer. Lupe continues the Buddhist motif, saying, real steel till he realize his realness. On the surface, Lupe is describing meditation, where one sits in stillness for extended periods, but he's also playing with the homophone steel, S-T-E-E-L. This is not the steel of which guns are made, but the verb form of steel, which is to, quote, mentally prepare oneself to do or face something difficult, like 20 years of meditation and prayer,

like crafting intricate nine-minute lyrical works of art, like rejecting immediately gratifying indulgences and desires in pursuit of meaning and sacrifice and altruism. It is through this type of discipline and practice that one realizes realness, defeat Samsara, achieves nirvana and brilliance. With both samsara and nirvana extending the Buddhist motif, and with this line being Muriel's final brushstroke, we ought to take a moment to cover some of the basics of Buddhism, as doing so will allow us to more fully understand the importance of these final lines.

Buddhist thought is centered on the four noble truths, the truth that life is suffering, the truth that suffering originates within desire or the craving for pleasure, the truth that this craving can be eliminated and the truth that this elimination is the result of following a methodical way or path. Buddhists also believe that rebirth or samsara is a potentially endless series of worldly existences in which every being is caught in, a continually renewed cycle of birth, suffering, and death. This gives way to karma, the idea that good conduct brings a good result and creates a tendency towards similar good acts, while bad conduct brings an evil result

and creates a tendency towards similar evil acts. Some karmic acts bear fruit in the same life in which they are committed, others in the immediately succeeding one, and others in future lives that are more remote. To escape the cycle of birth, suffering, and death completely, Buddhists follow an eightfold path to enlightenment. Meditation is a critical practice in fulfilling the eightfold path, which is thought of more as an interconnected wheel than a linear straight path.

It's believed that meditation helps rid the mind of delusion or ignorance, reduces bias, envy, and other factors at cloud one's mind and judgment. By increasing awareness and mental clarity, meditation creates a feedback loop of continuous improvement on the eightfold path. A clearer mind leads to a more clear understanding of reality, which leads to better intention, which leads to better action, which leads to better livelihood, and so on. The ultimate aim of the eightfold path is realizing enlightenment, to be awake to the true nature of reality and nirvana, a liberated state of being that transcends existence and non-existence, one is no longer bound to the continuous cycle of birth, suffering, and death.

Understanding this, we can return to Lupe's final few bars. Simple as a Buddhist monk in a temple standing in some heel group with the abbot practicing stillness, real steel till he realizes realness, defeat samsara, achieves nirvana, and brilliance. It's a brief but potent portrait of a practicing Buddhist, who through discipline, routine, and sustained effort is working his way through the eightfold path. Within the context of the cool, Lupe's characterization of pursuing desire and indulgence, often at the expense or harm of others, we can see how the eightfold path is constructed

to rid oneself of these pursuits, as they only cause more suffering, both in this life and our lives to come. Through this practice, Lupe's exemplary monk, quote, realizes his realness. The wording here is clever, realize is a word associated with enlightenment, as is not a quality one possesses. Enlightenment can only be realized. Meanwhile, realness is a word associated with Lupe's concept of the cool, specifically the idea of a real N-word, and the long-standing debate over what makes one real. On one hand, a real N-word has been used to describe a cutthroat individual who will go to extreme lengths to get ahead. We can hear this definition reflected in a song like The Notorious BIG's Real N-Words, where he and his

partner commit a deadly house robbery in order to escape poverty. On the other hand, this is what we got to do, G. Got to bang a nigga and bang a nigga good, so I can cop a bins and drive the fuck out the hood. On the other hand, recent artists like Kendrick Lamar have attempted to redefine the traditional hip-hop concept of a real N-word, highlighting its self-destructive aspects. On the song Real from Good Kid Mad City, Kendrick receives a phone call from his father after Kendrick witnesses his friend murdered by a rival gang. Any nigger can kill him, man. That don't make you a real nigger.

Real is responsibility. Realness taking care of your motherfucking family. Realist God, nigga. Similar to Kendrick's father here, Lupe's real steel until he realized his realness, symbolizes a transformation and mindset, an abandonment of the cool's definition of what constitutes being real, and replacing it with the true understanding of the nature of reality,

all of the teachings of Buddhism. Through this process, Lupe's exemplary monk achieves nirvana and realizes enlightenment, which I believe is what Lupe implies by the final word, brilliance. Achieving this sense, state allows him to defeat samsara or the sustained suffering caused by being entrapped in a continuous cycle of life and death. It's fitting that Lupe ends his 157-bar wide-ranging mural masterpiece with codes for transcendence, an anecdote to consider for anyone who's suffering, for anyone feeling like their current life is unfulfilling or endangering, or that their

circumstances are inescapable. Is the point of mural to convert us all into Buddhist monks? Well, of course not. Life is not a dictionary, it's a thesaurus. While different religions, and belief systems offer different paths through this life. There are underlying fundamental principles shared amongst all of them. Discipline, practice, humility, community and belonging, purpose, charity, sacrifice, the orientation of one's life around a larger aim, and the idea are individual actions result in some moral or spiritual consequence, be it acceptance into a specific kind of afterlife or the escape from samsara. Throughout mural, Lupe has encouraged his listeners to dig deeper, to realize that there's more beyond the surface. This is a

immediately felt in the layers of his lyrics, his discipline, his craft. The active listener is thus rewarded with increased understanding and a more immersive experience with art that relates some larger shared truth about the human condition. Thus Lupe's mural, the song itself, is symbolic of the larger message he's conveying, that there's more to life, there's more to existence beyond the surface. One that exists passively will experience only what is fed to them. They'll listen to radio hits, they'll eat fast food, they'll be void of any real moral structure or purpose, they'll perpetually pursue pleasure and wonder why they're unhappy, unsatisfied, spiritually unsatiated, always craving the next material thing, that next hit of dopamine. If born into a place

like the streets of Chicago, they're likely to be vulnerable to what the environment presents them, and look to emulate the cool, perpetuating the cycle. As a piece of art, what mural seems to offer is not an antidote but a challenge. Like a final boss of a video game, the sheer scale of the song and combined with the intricacies of its motifs and rhyme schemes and references make for a daunting proposition for even the most skilled challengers. Understanding its difficulty, understanding that climbing this mountain will require discipline and rigor and ongoing evaluation, do we turn our backs and listen to something easier, or do we take it on, and find purpose and progress and meaning in its difficulty? And such is life. Of course we're not all destined to be Buddhist monks,

but we can, through discipline and sacrifice, take active steps toward a more meaningful existence and transcend the circumstances we've inherited. With this in mind, we might wonder if Lupe wrapping a total of 157 bars and mural was a conscious decision. Because in numerology, the number 157 represents quote, the continual progress on the path of your spiritual enlightenment. until you realize it's realness defeat samsara achieves navana and brilliance yeah yeah yeah now as we've reached the end of our line-by-line analysis of mural we ought to take a few steps back to admire the piece as a whole despite its length of eight minutes and 48 seconds and its seemingly free-flowing stream of consciousness the song contains clear organizational elements that help unify

and structure the piece for instance we recognize lupé's use of symmetry on several occasions like the song being divided perfectly in half the i paint cold pictures phrase being used in the 35th bar of each verse, and the fact the word we was used in the exact beginning, middle, and end of verse 1. Having reached the end of the song, we find yet another symmetrical detail to add to the list, and that's the use of the word yeah. Yeah is the first thing we hear Lupe say on mural. It's the final word we hear him say at the end of verse 1, the exact middle point of the song. And it's the final thing he says on the song, the final word of verse 2. These small symmetrical details feel akin to a painter utilizing symmetry in the design of their aesthetic composition.

It's not something we consciously recognize without formal analysis, but we intrinsically feel the balance and structure and our experience of the piece. It's part of what makes it feel well composed and aesthetically pleasing. Along with these symmetrical details, we also notice that despite the song's incredible amount of lyrics, Lupe achieved lyrical cohesion by centering a handful of recurring references and motifs. For example, according to hip-hop by the numbers, Lupe references body parts 34 times or one every 4.6 bars. He also references food 40 times, one every 4 bars, and animals 32 times, one every 4.9 bars. There was also the broader theme of childhood, under which we found references to anime, cartoons,

movies, cereal, soda, and video games. Tied to this motif was the recurring topic of his hometown Chicago. The harsh environment youth are born into and often perpetuate. There's all also the recurring topic of his conflict with Atlantic Records, which Lupe used to symbolize broader issues of power, control, and exploitation. And there were also allusions to several belief systems, including Christianity, Islam, Judaism, and Buddhism. These kinds of cohesive, thematic elements indicate that despite its sprawling, continually unfolding nature, mural's overall composition was well designed and executed with purpose. And a big part of that purpose is only understood when we recognize murals placed within the larger composition of Tetsuo and youth as a whole.

While we don't have the time, nor do I yet have a full comprehension of the album to provide an intricate breakdown, understanding the album's broad strokes will suffice for our purposes today. Tetsuo and Youth contains at least three parallel narratives that unfolds simultaneously, the life of Lupe Fiasco, the life of someone born into a place like the streets of Chicago, and the life of Jesus Christ. In other words, the personal, the social, and the spiritual. The album is structured around four pillars, the four seasons, with musical interludes named after summer, fall, winter, and spring. Within these seasonal interludes, there are 12 songs,

symbolic of the 12 months of the year, so the album represents a complete yearly cycle. When listening to the album in standard track order, it advances from the warmest month, summer to fall, symbolic of a literal fall or descent into winter, the coldest month. Thematically and sonically, the songs follow this progression as well. Summer songs are warm, positive, and celebratory. Fall songs are transitory, somewhere between light and dark, and the winter songs are dark in both theme and sound. On the album's third to last song, Madonna, Lupe ends the track with a boy in the ghetto dying from a gunshot wound, drawing on imagery of Mother Mary and the death of Jesus, rapping,

He was hanging around them murderers, and then prostitutes and them robbers, them dope fiends in that water, with angel dust in their nostrils, they hit him up with that chopper. She was holding him in her hands, just like Stigmata, said, You gonna live here forever. Salvation and trestions, You go and live here forever. Died like Ricky on his mama couch, right there in his mama's house. Only Child, the Holy Mama is your mom in there. Died like Ricky on his mama couch, right there in his mama house. Only child, the holy mama's your mama now.

On the album's next and penultimate song Adoration of the Magi, Lupe depicts birth. In the song's chorus, he references a number of famous album covers that features babies on them. The last two lines of this chorus seem key. Why you want to be born again, you're just a baby. Why are you playing in the streets? You just a baby. So broadly speaking, Tatsuo and Youth ends in death and rebirth. And in this rebirth, we already find our baby, our youth, being viewed as prey by the streets,

implying that it's destined to repeat the cycle. This concept gives way to the album's final song, They Resurrect Over New, an acronym for the video game Tron, where Lupe gives critical instructions to his listeners. The phrase proceed to the next level. The phrase proceed to the next level is repeated in between a longer lyrical passage. I cannot settle for good enough, so I'll sweat and I'll climb until I reach my prime. The forces rise and fall again. Through it all, I'll reach the end.

In my eyes, there's a fire, and it takes me high. The final lyrical passage of the entire album builds on this, where we hear artist Troy singing, We're going up, we're going up. Next level, next level. floor, I'm ready for it. I've been waiting all my life. The album's final track is the seasonal instrumental instrumental interlude spring, the season of growth and change. But then, mysteriously, the album just ends. So how do we proceed to the next level? What are we to do with the new life

given to us at the end of the album? Playing the album from beginning to end will just have us die, only to be reborn again, reflecting the Buddhist idea of samsara, the endless cycle of birth, suffering death and rebirth. So how do we escape the cycle? How do we proceed to the next level? Well, as instructed in the final moments of the album, you sweat and you climb and it will take you high. You go up. Spring, the season of change, is a command to change your approach by changing the way you listen to the album. It's telling you to go up, to listen in reverse order, to climb up from the bottom of the track list to the top. This rendering of the album begins with Tron, and the first thing we hear is the sounds of a video game.

This clues us in on the album's overall concept when playing it in reverse order. It mirrors a video game. Just like the idea of Samsara, in a video game, you constantly die, only to be granted another life to try again. And like a video game, the reverse order of the album uses the seasonal interludes as demarcations for different levels. In order to advance or proceed to the next level, you must face and defeat a boss. These bosses are represented by the three songs that come just before each seasonal interlude.

Chopper, which is just before winter, Prisoner 1 and 2, which is just before fall, and mural, which is just before summer. The one thing you'll notice about all three of these songs is that they are incredibly long. Chopper is 9.5 minutes, Prisoner 1 and 2 is 8.5 minutes, and mural is nearly 9 minutes. As we listen to each song in reverse order, trying to climb up the track list, trying to ascend, we become an active participant in this game, attempting to beat each boss by decoding its meaning, facing these big bosses along the way. In this track order, the progression of the seasons advances from the coldest months to the warmest, from winter to fall to summer, a symbolic transition from dark to light,

ending with the positive, celebratory songs that normally begin the album in standard order. This album as a video game lends insight into the title Tetsuo in Youth. Tetsuo is the name of the main villain in the anime Akira and represents the destructive potential of power in the wrong hands. Meanwhile, youth is us. perpetually reborn until we defeat the boss, defeat Samsara. Youth is you. Thus we see how the album and its multiple iterations

symbolizes the very concepts Lupe is conveying on the album. Tetsuo and Youth is a game that represents the game of life. It is difficult. To solve it, to advance up, takes discipline and practice and persistence, is to be played over and over, getting a little better and understanding more each time. And like the circumstances you were born into, It also requires you to question what's been given to you.

It requires you to look beyond the surface, to restructure the album as you would your life. Mural then is the album's final boss, the most difficult test. It's the game within the game within the game. And when we understand this, the song's final lines become that much more impactful. Defeat Samsara achieves Nirvana and brilliance. This is the final reward of beating not only the final boss, but the entire game. And for Lupe, the completion of this album symbolized transcephalienable. from his personal incarceration within the artistic restraints of his record contract.

He beat the game of making it out of the streets, and he beat the game of making it out of the exploitative music industry. He himself is proceeding to the next level by creating an album about proceeding to the next level. And that album both starts and ends with one of the greatest lyrical achievements in the history of hip-hop, the song Mural. The song Lupa himself said contains everything he's learned so far. It's a master at the top of his craft, the ninja defeating the final boss, Neo when he sees the matrix code and destroys Agent Smith. And this brings me to my final point about mural. Understanding its function within the album, as both the first and last song depending on how you listen to it, we gain a newfound appreciation for its construction. In the same way, an actual

mural often depicts a historical event with smaller scenes and images that tell a larger story. Mural is a sonic mural that depicts the entirety of Tetsuo in youth. As we detailed a few minutes ago, despite its sprawling nature, Lupe actually addresses only a handful of motifs, and they're all themes that are explored throughout the entire album. And this is why it works as an opening song just as well as it does a closing song. As an opening song, mural is like an overture. It foreshadows the themes to be explored in the album to come. As the last song, the final boss,

it assimilates the wisdom gained over the course of the entire album into a singular piece. As Lupe himself said, it's everything he's learned in one song, the raw elements and vitamins and minerals of his new elevated consciousness that allows him and us to proceed to the next level. And thus, when we understand this double function, we understand that the entire 157 bar 9-minute rap masterpiece mural is itself a double entendre. Today's episode was written and produced by me, Cole Kushna. If you made it to the end of this two-part monster, thank you. This is the most time I've ever spent on a single song, and I hope you found some value in it. If you did, please get you.

consider sharing with a friend or share on social media and tagging at Dysect podcast. I'd really appreciate it. Audio editing by Kevin Pooler, theme music by bureaucratic. All right, thanks everyone. Talk to you next week.