"The Foster Mother's Tale" and "Express Yourself" by NWA
(Societal suppression of innate talents)
"THE FOSTER-MOTHER'S TALE"
FOSTER-MOTHER. I never saw the man whom you describe. MARIA. 'Tis strange! he spake of you familiarly As mine and Albert's common Foster-mother. FOSTER-MOTHER. Now blessings on the man, whoe'er he be, That joined your names with mine! O my sweet lady, As often as I think of those dear times When you two little ones would stand at eve On each side of my chair, and make me learn All you had learnt in the day; and how to talk In gentle phrase, then bid me sing to you-- 'Tis more like heaven to come than what _has_ been. MARIA. O my dear Mother! this strange man has left me Troubled with wilder fancies, than the moon Breeds in the love-sick maid who gazes at it, Till lost in inward vision, with wet eye She gazes idly!--But that entrance, Mother! FOSTER-MOTHER. Can no one hear? It is a perilous tale! MARIA. No one. FOSTER-MOTHER My husband's father told it me, Poor old Leoni!--Angels rest his soul! He was a woodman, and could fell and saw With lusty arm. You know that huge round beam Which props the hanging wall of the old chapel? Beneath that tree, while yet it was a tree He found a baby wrapt in mosses, lined With thistle-beards, and such small locks of wool As hang on brambles. Well, he brought him home, And reared him at the then Lord Velez' cost. And so the babe grew up a pretty boy, A pretty boy, but most unteachable-- And never learnt a prayer, nor told a bead, But knew the names of birds, and mocked their notes, And whistled, as he were a bird himself: And all the autumn 'twas his only play To get the seeds of wild flowers, and to plant them With earth and water, on the stumps of trees. A Friar, who gathered simples in the wood, A grey-haired man--he loved this little boy, The boy loved him--and, when the Friar taught him, He soon could write with the pen: and from that time, Lived chiefly at the Convent or the Castle. So he became a very learned youth. But Oh! poor wretch!--he read, and read, and read, 'Till his brain turned--and ere his twentieth year, He had unlawful thoughts of many things: And though he prayed, he never loved to pray With holy men, nor in a holy place-- But yet his speech, it was so soft and sweet, The late Lord Velez ne'er was wearied with him. And once, as by the north side of the Chapel They stood together, chained in deep discourse, The earth heaved under them with such a groan, That the wall tottered, and had well-nigh fallen Right on their heads. My Lord was sorely frightened; A fever seized him, and he made confession Of all the heretical and lawless talk Which brought this judgment: so the youth was seized And cast into that hole. My husband's father Sobbed like a child--it almost broke his heart: And once as he was working in the cellar, He heard a voice distinctly; 'twas the youth's, Who sung a doleful song about green fields, How sweet it were on lake or wild savannah, To hunt for food, and be a naked man, And wander up and down at liberty. He always doted on the youth, and now His love grew desperate; and defying death, He made that cunning entrance I described: And the young man escaped. MARIA. 'Tis a sweet tale: Such as would lull a listening child to sleep, His rosy face besoiled with unwiped tears.-- And what became of him? FOSTER-MOTHER. He went on ship-board With those bold voyagers, who made discovery Of golden lands. Leoni's younger brother Went likewise, and when he returned to Spain, He told Leoni, that the poor mad youth, Soon after they arrived in that new world, In spite of his dissuasion, seized a boat, And all alone, set sail by silent moonlight Up a great river, great as any sea, And ne'er was heard of more: but 'tis supposed, He lived and died among the savage men. |
"Express Yourself"
[Intro] Dr. Dre: Yo, man, it's a lot of brothers out there flakin' and perpetratin' but scared to kick reality Ice Cube: Man, you've been doin' all this dope producing, but you ain't had a chance to show 'em what time it is Dr. Dre: So what you want me to do? ... (Express yourself) [Verse 1: Dr. Dre] I'm expressing with my full capabilities And now I'm living in correctional facilities Cause some don't agree with how I do this I get straight, meditate like a Buddhist I'm dropping flavor, my behavior is hereditary But my technique is very necessary Blame it on Ice Cube, because he says it gets funky When you got a subject and a predicate Add it on a dope beat and that'll make you think Some suckers just tickle me pink To my stomach, cause they don't flow like this one You know what? I won't hesitate to dis one Or two before I'm through, so don't try to sing this Some drop science, well I'm dropping English Even if Yella makes it a cappella I still express, yo I don't smoke weed or sess Cause it's known to give a brother brain damage And brain damage on the mic don't manage nothing But making a sucker and you equal, don't be another sequel [Hook] Express yourself Come on and do it [Verse 2: Dr. Dre] Now, getting back to the PG That's program, and it's easy Dre is back, new jacks are made hollow Expressing ain't their subject because they like to follow The words, the style, the trend, the records I spin Again and again and again, yo, you on the other end Watch a brother saying dope rhymes with no help There's no fessing and guessing while I'm expressing myself It's crazy to see people be What society wants them to be, but not me Ruthless is the way to go, they know Others say rhymes that fail to be original Or they kill where the hip-hop starts Forget about the ghetto and rap for the pop charts Some musicians curse at home But scared to use profanity when up on the microphone Yeah, they want reality but you won't hear none They rather exaggerate a little fiction Some say no to drugs and take a stand But after the show they go looking for the dopeman Or they ban my group from the radio, hear N.W.A and say "Hell no!" But you know it ain't all about wealth as long as you make a note to... [Hook] Express yourself Come on and do it [Verse 3: Dr. Dre] From the heart cause if you wanna start to move up the chart Then expression is a big part of it You ain't efficient when you flow You ain't swift, moving like a tortoise, full of rigor mortis There's a little bit more to show I got rhymes in my mind, embedded like an embryo Or a lesson, all of 'em expression And if you start fessing, I got a Smith and Wesson for you I might ignore your record because it has no bottom I get loose in the summer, winter, spring and autumn It's Dre on the mic, getting physical Doing the job, N.W.A is the lynch mob Yes, I'm macabre but you know you need this And the knowledge is growing, just like a fetus Or a tumor but here's the rumor Dre is in the neighborhood and he's up to no good When I start expressing myself, Yella slam it Cause If I stay funky like this, I'm doing damage Or I'mma be too hyped and need a straight jacket I got knowledge and other suckers lack it So, when you see Dre, a DJ on the mic Ask what it's like, it's like we getting hype tonight Cause if I strike, it ain't for your good health But I won't strike if you just [Hook] Express yourself Come on and do it |
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The Parallels:
Both texts highlight individuals who are being punished for expressing themselves. The expression in "The Foster Mother's Tale" is the "heretical and lawless talk" of the boy who is ultimately placed into a hole for his expression. The boy in "The Foster Mother's Tale," and Dr. Dre both have skill sets that aren't what fit in with mainstream, or proper, society. Dr. Dre alludes to a similar experience in the line "I'm expressing with my full capabilities and now I'm living in correctional facilities. While the greater society of Dr. Dre's world would "say rhymes that fail to be original," Dre responds with "not me, ruthless is the way to be." The boy in the "Foster-Mother's Tale makes a similar decision to deviate from the norm. He chooses to leave the more common society of church and religion to live and die "among the savage men." Dr. Dre equates ruthlessness to a sense of originality while "savage" has a similar meaning of against the norm.
Both texts highlight individuals who are being punished for expressing themselves. The expression in "The Foster Mother's Tale" is the "heretical and lawless talk" of the boy who is ultimately placed into a hole for his expression. The boy in "The Foster Mother's Tale," and Dr. Dre both have skill sets that aren't what fit in with mainstream, or proper, society. Dr. Dre alludes to a similar experience in the line "I'm expressing with my full capabilities and now I'm living in correctional facilities. While the greater society of Dr. Dre's world would "say rhymes that fail to be original," Dre responds with "not me, ruthless is the way to be." The boy in the "Foster-Mother's Tale makes a similar decision to deviate from the norm. He chooses to leave the more common society of church and religion to live and die "among the savage men." Dr. Dre equates ruthlessness to a sense of originality while "savage" has a similar meaning of against the norm.