 Rank: Advanced Member
Groups: Registered
Joined: 31/07/2009(UTC)
Posts: 2,661
Thanks: 622 times
Was thanked: 1324 time(s) in 639 post(s)
|
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
It is Sunday, February 5, 2017. We are live at the NRG Stadium in Houston, Texas at Super Bowl 51. The New England Patriots v. The Atlanta Falcons. The stadium is patiently waiting Super Bowl LI Half-time performer, Tisha Jackson. Jackson will headline the Super Bowl for the second time in her career, the first time being, three years ago at Super Bowl 48. The crowd continues to chatter and the lights go dim. The stadium is pitch black.
The crowd is going wild. The screams for Tisha are louder than the teams playing. It’s time. Tisha is here. We see a stage set up. The set up on stage is crafted out of Jackson’s side profile of her face. The stage lights up red and gold. The crowd’s screams only get louder, and louder, so loud as if people all over Texas can hear them scream. Where is Tisha? Lights begin to flash all over stage and the crowd gets louder. A voice speaks…
sounds like:
VOICE OF DENZEL WASHINGTON:
Tonight excellence will be executed
History will be made
Tisha Jackson will win
Greatness will be pursued
With all the will and might that we have
For each day there is a new encounter
For each week there is a new challenge
All of the noise and all of the glamour
All of the colors
All of the excitement
All of the rage and all of the money
Is all for this Black woman
And it is because the Black woman has heart and she’s got soul
She has the will to excel, the will to win
And this country has been standing on their shoulders for years
Smoke appears and then soon covers the entire stage. The lights flash all over the stage and stadium. She is here. Tisha rises gracefully from a toaster and enters stage. The crowd loses it! “AAAAAAHHHHHHHH” is all that is heard throughout the stadium. Wearing a thick all white faux fur, and a matching white hat, with her hair slicked back, Tisha stands there. Tisha turns her head to the left side of the stadium and just pauses, her body stands still, her face calm but in command, and they fucking lose it. She won’t move.
SUPER: 30 SECONDS LATER
The crowd is in awe. Jackson still has not moved a step yet. Then all of a sudden…BOOM…She jerks her head towards the right side of the stadium. At this point the crowd really fucking loses it. What is she doing? The girl is standing in front of hundreds of thousands of people and has not said a word, and the crowd is bizurk.
VOICES OF THE AUDIENCE
"TISHA!/TISHA!/TISHA!/TISHA!/WHEEEEWWWW!/COME ON TISHA/ TISHA!/YASSSS GIRL!/ TISHA!/ TISHA!/ TISHA!"
Tisha doesn’t budge. She remains still.
SUPER: 30 SECONDS LATER
Tisha is still in place. The stadiums screams is now at an all-time high. HERE WE GO! Tisha glides her microphone towards her mouth. She stands there with the mic held to her mouth. Her band begins to que the music. Ucayali’s and piano sounds collide together peacefully. Tisha is premiering the first single off her ninth studio album, FOR DREW released the night before Superbowl LI. The beat for “You Think…” is being conducted by the band. Tisha finally sings…
sounds like:
[Chorus]
You think… They’ll ride for you as long as I been riding?
You think… They’d shed all the tears that I’ve been crying?
You think… They would put up with the lackluster lying?
You think… They would dedicate an entire album about you?
Write all these lyrics my mind has led my fingers to be writing?
Every blind child prodigy can see I’ve upheld you way pass exaltation
How iniquitous of a way to treat the girl that’s crowned you
You think… They’ll ride for you as long as I been riding?
You think… They’d shed all the tears that I’ve been crying?
[Verse 1]
I sleep uneased at night
After all these red-eye London flights
I’m not the girl you wanna get tight
I sense a double-life
You must not value my canny to question my astute
Remember the days you called me a Queen, made me feel like the hottest chick?
If I find out you got a substitute, this Queen gon’ turn into a raving ratchet bitch
I know I kept it sexy, quick on my feet, I was witty
Feeling Franklin/Trevor wasted, all my time is gone
Feeling quite non compos mentis, type covetous
Quite non compos mentis, type covetous
Walked all over like the ground I’ve worshiped you on, (ground I worshiped you on)
Contemplating on how to be fifty shades of shady
[Chorus]
You think… They’ll ride for you as long as I been riding?
You think… They’d shed all the tears that I’ve been crying?
You think… They would put up with the lackluster lying?
You think… They would dedicate an entire album about you?
Write all these lyrics my mind has led my fingers to be writing?
Every blind child prodigy can see I’ve upheld you way pass exaltation
How iniquitous of a way to treat the girl that’s crowned you
You think… They’ll ride for you as long as I been riding?
You think… They’d shed all the tears that I’ve been crying?
[Verse 2]
Let’s imagine for a moment that you never won a singing competition show as a rapper
That you actually were a rapper and spit hot 16’s on an album
An album that you could call your own
Never made it out the Bronx
Wasn’t a fuck boy fake thug, still slanging dope up in the streets
Never had the Queen of entertainment in yo sheet-eeet-eeeets
You think…for you they’d lay down their life and die?
No.
In your face behind your back they laugh at you, laugh at you
He’s a fuck boy a boy I like to fuck boy
And ya’ll know like Puffy to a lot of money we was made for each other
You think you and your DENIAL will prevail?
Let’s see if denial is willing to walk down an aisle for you wearing a veil
Me sing seh!
[Chorus]
You think… They’ll ride for you as long as I been riding?
You think… They’d shed all the tears that I’ve been crying?
You think… They would put up with the lackluster lying?
You think… They would dedicate an entire album about you?
Write all these lyrics my mind has led my fingers to be writing?
Every blind child prodigy can see I’ve upheld you way pass exaltation
How iniquitous of a way to treat the girl that’s crowned you
You think… They’ll ride for you as long as I been riding?
You think… They’d shed all the tears that I’ve been crying?
[Bridge]
HEYYYY-HEY-HEYYYYY
It should be a sin…
For you to let this good pussy go to waste
I catch all the rockets you launch
Kept it real raunch
Crème de la crème, call it a dime or a 5 star
Imbibe at home, at the studio, or in the car
Diamond cluster hustler, supreme bitch, Lil Kim
Loving that John, Loving that John, like your name is really John
Feeling quite non compos mentis, type covetous
Quite non compos mentis, type covetous
Walked all over like the ground I’ve worshiped you, (ground I worshiped you on)
Contemplating on how to be fifty shades of shady
[Chorus]
You think… They’ll ride for you as long as I been riding?
You think… They’d shed all the tears that I’ve been crying?
You think… They would put up with the lackluster lying?
You think… They would dedicate an entire album about you?
Write all these lyrics my mind has led my fingers to be writing?
Every blind child prodigy can see I’ve upheld you way pass exaltation
How iniquitous of a way to treat the girl that’s crowned you
You think… They’ll ride for you as long as I been riding?
You think… They’d shed all the tears that I’ve been crying?
[Outro – Lil Kim Verse]
I got, no time for fake niggas
Just sip some Cristal with these real ones
From East to West coast spread love
And while you busta's talk ish we count bank figures
No time, no time, no time
Tisha stands still like a boss as the crowd’s applause reigns for her through the stadium. Her band continues to play the instrumental for “You Think…”, but the sound coming from onstage is light. Jackson stands center stage and her guitarist, Bibi approaches her. As Bibi, walks to a frozen Jackson, she strums her guitar. All of a sudden flames ignite from both ends of Bibi’s guitar. White gold fireworks flame from her guitar as she strums the fuck out of it.
Bibi is now standing next to Jackson. Jackson stares at Bibi for a beat. She faces Bibi and says her famous line,
“Ladies and gentlemen, GIVE IT UP… FA BIBI”
Bibi begins to play the instrumental for “Studio 54” a cut off of Jackson’s ninth studio album, released a day before the Super Bowl half time performance. Bibi continues to strum her guitar and moves towards the right side of the stage as Jackson’s band ques in their instruments for “Studio 54”. Jackson’s dancers surround her and they dance.
sounds like:
[Verse 1]
It’s poppin off to be a night like no other (other)
Drewey baby take me to the disco (disco)
Driver, take me to Studio 54
Summer body already on fleek
Driver, turn up the music please
While I body surf on him
[Chorus]
Cut a rug!
We are forever young!
I wanna party all night (all night)
Like it’s 1979 and we are at Studio 54
Tell the DJ tonight we throwing it back
Going off the wall with MJ
Causing all types of havoc
I’m such a wreck
[Verse 2]
The street walkers is out
Hoochie coochie divas is on fire (fire)
Guys and girls roll up hundred dollar bills
Inhale/exhaling off of glass tables (tables)
It’s like 1979 at studio 54 all over again
DJ turn the house upside down with Ms. Ross won’t cha?
Drew get your hands off my booty
[Chorus]
Cut a rug!
We are forever young!
I wanna party all night (all night)
Like it’s 1979 and we are at Studio 54
Tell the DJ tonight we throwing it back
Going off the wall with MJ
Causing all types of havoc
I’m such a wreck
[Verse 3]
Yeah tonight feels like 1979
But I’m gonna back it up for cash money taking over the ’99 just one time
Relax boo, the dancefloor is not the time for a pipe down
The liquor just hit me like the neon lights to my face
Let me slow down the pace
Come on hit them with the bridge baby
[Bridge]
Yeah, we wilding
We styling and profiling
We profiling and wilding
We wilding off this island
Yeah, we wilding
We styling and profiling
We profiling and wilding
We wilding off this island
Tell the DJ tonight we throwing it back
Going off the wall with MJ
Causing all types of havoc
I’m such a wreck!
[Chorus]
Cut a rug!
We are forever young!
I wanna party all night (all night)
Like it’s 1979 and we are at Studio 54
Tell the DJ tonight we throwing it back
Going off the wall with MJ
Causing all types of havoc
I’m such a wreck
[Outro]
Yeah, we wilding
We styling and profiling
We profiling and wilding
We wilding off this island
Yeah, we wilding
We styling and profiling
We profiling and wilding
We wilding off this island
Bet I ride you like this beat babe
I bet I ride this beat like a wave babe
Tisha stands still once more as her band begins the intro to “History” a track released off of Jackson’s 2011 sixth studio album, “Reveal”. “History originally features Stephanie Fierce and GirlSpice. The fans go crazy. Jackson sings.
sounds like:
[Verse 1 – Tisha]
Came up from Brooklyn
A little girl from Bed-Stuy
She made it big and moved downtown to the city of big dreams
Now she’s standing tall next to Izzy and Stephanie
I’m feeling the love around me everywhere
I remember the days when I had to take the bus and train everywhere
Now I’m cruising down 7th avenue in my all white lexus
This the same little girl from Bed-Stuy
The place the birth and raised Lena Horne, Jay-Z, and Biggie
I’m still humble…I just feel really good
You can tell by these words that I feel like I’m making…!
Tisha points her mic out to the crowd so they can participate. The fans begin the chorus, and then the stage shuts to BLACK. THE MUSIC STOPS. TISHA ISN’T SINGING. WHAT IS HAPPENING? Beats later, THE ENTIRE STAGE TURNS RED. The floors, the set design, and red lights flash. A siren blows. Tisha stands on stage alone. Sirens flare and the band plays a “shaky” version of the instrumental to “History”. Tisha holds her mic to her face and looks at the audience.
“I SAID… I’m standing next to Izzy and Steph! Ladies, where ya’ll at?!”
BOOM! Stephanie Fierce pops up out of a toaster onto the stage left of Tisha. BOOM! Isabel pops out of a toaster on stage to the right of Tisha.
The audience fucking loses it. The three leading ladies of the music industry are all on one stage. Both women Jackson had heated and heavily reported feuds with. The three women stand still as the crowd roars echo through the stadium and throughout all of Texas. Fans cry seeing, all ladies on the stage. Tisha, Stephanie, and Isabel, hold their composure and begin to glance at each other. Tisha places her mic to her face, and the band begins to play the instrumental for “History”. All three ladies sing the chorus in perfect harmony.
[Chorus – Tisha, Stephanie, Isabel]
History
Words out my mouth and onto paper
Words made to inspire you
We’re making History
Rose from the bottom straight up to the top
You can’t call it a hot shot
History
This is her story broken down from past, to present, and to the future
Don’t get it confused
We’re still the same chicks from the old block
Just a bit more wiser and enjoying life on top
Can I get a round of applause for History, History, History
[Verse 2 – Stephanie Fierce]
Coming from a city that many pity and feel like most of us won’t make it
I feel like I just created History with the words that I just stated
Now I know what they mean when the say from the bottom to the top
Because now I’m living on top of the charts
I used to die to be in the in crowd
But I just got a call to be the cover of Vogue so now I’m living in style
Came in an amateur and graduated to the high life
The world that I inspire got me feeling like a champion
No, I’m not over confident, I just feel like I’m making…
[Chorus – Tisha, Stephanie, Isabel]
History
Words out my mouth and onto paper
Words made to inspire you
We’re making History
Rose from the bottom straight up to the top
You can’t call it a hot shot
History
This is her story broken down from past, to present, and to the future
Don’t get it confused
We’re still the same chicks from the old block
Just a bit more wiser and enjoying life on top
Can I get a round of applause for History, History, History
[Verse 3 – Isabel]
Throw one hand in the air for the celebration
Throw another hand in the air if this is an inspiration
No feeling in the world that can compare
When you feel like you’re on the top and the world won’t stop
Open your eyes and mind to big dreams
History got me feeling emancipated and brand new
Speak your words into existence
Don’t just stand there looking pretty
Throw your hands up in the air and scream
[Tisha, Stephanie, Isabel]
Yeaaaah, Yeaaaahhh
[Chorus – Tisha, Stephanie, Isabel]
History
Words out my mouth and onto paper
Words made to inspire you
We’re making History
Rose from the bottom straight up to the top
You can’t call it a hot shot
History
This is her story broken down from past, to present, and to the future
Don’t get it confused
We’re still the same chicks from the old block
Just a bit more wiser and enjoying life on top
Can I get a round of applause for History, History, History
A standing O’ for the History, History, History
The crowd is in pandemonium as the three ladies close out “History” and huddle in a hug on stage. Each girl goes back to their position. The toasters collapse. The ladies are off stage. The fades to black. Tisha’s band plays an intermission. They begin the instrumental to “Enough Feat. Isabel”, a track off of Jackson’s ninth studio album, FOR DREW.
SUPER: 30 Seconds later
White ultralight beams glow all throughout the stadium. The lights are so white, so bright; you would mistake it for day time. BOOM, Jackson, and her troop of female dancers are OFF STAGE, center field of the stadium. They are dressed in black panther attire, ready to kick white supremacists ass. Jackson holds her mic to her face, the band kicks off the instrumental to “Enough”. Jackson sings.
sounds like:
Tisha = RED
Isabel = BLUE
Tisha + Isabel = BLACK
[Verse 1 – Tisha x2]
No need to speculate about that is Tisha and Izzy still beefin hoopla
Quit the blogging shut em’ down with the hottest collab since Brandy and Monica
Black Lives Matter, end yellow journalism propaganda
Gave back my engagement ring like it ain’t mean a thing, on my Kim Zolciak
My daddy Colombiana, Mama is a Black Madonna (THE PAINTING!)
Blend that brown with black that make me blacker than blacker
Unapologetic this is the way that the highest highest made me
Can’t help my ancestors hold the key to getting the planet up and running
Rocking box braids, watch In Style claim it’s the newest craze cause Malibu Barbie’s just got on em’
Adobo is life (I’m saucy)
[Pre-Chorus - Tisha]
I stand on the shoulders of the likes of Harriet, got idols like Janet
Melanin is a blessing, don’t permit propaganda to cajole you to disowning
Stop killing my brothers and sisters, ya’ll trying to exterminate our greatness
R.I.P. Sandra Bland, Say her name, God sits high and looks low
Ya’ll tried to disenfranchise, Yet we thrive, In moonlight black boys look blue
Every nigga is a star, And I slay
I slay, I slay, Okay, I’m black, and I slay, I slay, I slay
He gon’ slay, She slay, She slay, I slay, I slay
Okay, Okay, Okay, All day
Isabel joins Jackson and her dance troop, center field.
[Chorus – Izzy]
No more silence, we fed up, we’ve been silenced long enough
No more silence, we fed up, we’ve been silenced long enough
Try to divide us but we stand united in love
Wanna see what I'm made of, then come call my bluff
[Verse 2 - Isabel]
If you think I’m playin’ you can check my credentials
If you think I’m playin’ you can check my credentials
Whole world gettin' shook while I scream those initials
Gettin' checks in LA but I bleed red, blue, and yellow
Nunca olvides que estoy sobre mi dinero
Nunca olvides que estoy sobre mi dinero
Dicen "Habla inglés, no entiendo lo que estás diciendo"
Yo digo "Habla igualdad, no entiendo todo el odio!"
[Bridge – Tisha and Isabel]
Yo T, you know they gon’ bump this O.D. on the radio station
Yo T, you know they gon’ bump this O.D. on the radio station
Immigrants built this entire country by the force of your abusive hand
Immigrants built this entire country by the force of your abusive hand
REVOLT THE BAN ON MUSILIMS AND ALL IMMIGRANTS OF COLOR
[Pre-Chorus - Tisha]
I stand on the shoulders of the likes of Harriet, got idols like Janet
Melanin is a blessing, don’t permit propaganda to cajole you to disowning
Stop killing my brothers and sisters, ya’ll trying to exterminate our greatness
R.I.P. Sandra Bland, Say her name, God sits high and looks low
Ya’ll tried to disenfranchise, Yet we thrive, In moonlight black boys look blue
Every nigga is a star, And I slay
I slay, I slay, Okay, I’m black, and I slay, I slay, I slay
He gon’ slay, She slay, She slay, I slay, I slay
Okay, Okay, Okay, All day
[Chorus – Tisha & Isabel x2]
No more silence, we fed up, we’ve been silenced long enough
No more silence, we fed up, we’ve been silenced long enough
Try to divide us but we stand united in love
Wanna see what I'm made of, then come call my bluff
[Outro – Tisha and Isabel]
Try to divide us but we stand united in love
Wanna see what I'm made of, then come call my bluff
We don’t give a damn about your supremacist administration
Just STAY WOKE and keep stackin’ yo paper
Tisha: Ya’ll give it up for Isabel!
Jackson and Isabel embrace. Isabel smiles and waves, while exiting the field. Jackson looks at the audience from center field. She places the mic to her face and talks as she walks towards the stage.
sounds like:
“HOUSTON! MY NAME IS TISHA JACKSON. AND I AM A NAAAAASSSSSTYYYYY WOMAN. I'm as nasty as a man who looks like he bathes in Cheetos dust. A man whose words are a distract to America. Electoral college-sanctioned, hate-speech contaminating this national anthem. I'm not as nasty as Confederate flags being tattooed across my city. Maybe the South actually is going to rise again. Maybe for some it never really fell. Blacks are still in shackles and graves, just for being black. Slavery has been reinterpreted as the prison system in front of people who see melanin as animal skin. I am not as nasty as a swastika painted on a pride flag, and I didn't know devils could be resurrected but I feel Hitler in these streets. A mustache traded for a toupee. Nazis renamed the Cabinet Electoral Conversion Therapy, the new gas chambers shaming the gay out of America, turning rainbows into suicide. I am not as nasty as racism, fraud, conflict of interest, homophobia, sexual assault, transphobia, white supremacy, misogyny, ignorance, white privilege ... your daughter being your favorite sex symbol, like your wet dreams infused with your own genes. Yeah, I'm a nasty woman — a loud, vulgar, proud woman.
I am not nasty like the combo of Trump and Pence being served up to me in my voting booths. I'm nasty like the battles my grandmothers fought to get me into that voting booth. I'm nasty like the fight for wage equality. Scarlett Johansson, why were the female actors paid less than half of what the male actors earned last year. See, even when we do go into higher paying jobs our wages are still cut with blades sharpened by testosterone. Why is the work of a black woman and a hispanic woman worth only 63 and 54 cents of a white man's privileged daughter? This is not a feminist myth. This is inequality. So we are not here to be debunked. We are here to be respected. We are here to be nasty.
I am nasty like my bloodstains on my bed sheets. We don't actually choose if and when to have our periods. Believe me if we could some of us would. We do not like throwing away our favorite pairs of underpants. Tell me, why are pads and tampons still taxed when Viagra and Rogaine are not? Is your erection really more than protecting the sacred messy part of my womanhood? Is the bloodstain on my jeans more embarrassing than the thinning of your hair?
I know it is hard to look at your own entitlement and privilege. You may be afraid of the truth. I am unafraid to be honest. It may sound petty bringing up a few extra cents. It adds up to the pile of change I have yet to see in my country. I can't see. My eyes are too busy praying to my feet hoping you don't mistake eye contact for wanting physical contact. Half my life I have been zipping up my smile hoping you don't think I want to unzip your jeans. I am unafraid to be nasty because I am nasty like Betty, Corretta, Amelia, Rosa, Assatta, Maxine Waters, Sasha, Malia, and Michelle.
And my righteous ain’t for grabbing . There for reminding you that our walls are stronger than America's ever will be. Our pussies are for our pleasure. They are for birthing new generations of filthy, vulgar, nasty, proud, Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Sikh, you name it, for new generations of nasty women. So if you a nasty woman, or you love one who is, let me hear you say, YEAH!.”
The audience roars “YEAH”
Tisha yells, “THANK YOU!”
Jackson stands mid stage. Her dancers reappear and surround her. The band begins to play the instrumental to Jackson’s hit song, "Turnt".
sounds like:
[Chorus – Tisha]
When a random in the club sweatin’ you
But tonight you brought your main piece with you
My current situation is a lituation
Lituation is my current situation
[Hook – Tisha ]
Since 16 a bitch been rich
I just ran into my ex
Then my next said wassup to my ex and his next
[Verse 2 - Tisha]
A turnt white boy just tapped my shoulder and said he got the goodies
I took him up to V.I.P. with me
Faded to the second power
Bent of that Jimi Hendrix, Tisha’s a rockstar
He said he got that woah
Ex says to next he’s taking me back to rehab if I get drunk
I told next lets go away to the trap
So I could bag him like he’s a rap star
[Hook – Tisha]
When a random in the club sweatin’ you
[Sweating you]
But tonight you brought your main piece with you
[Main piece with me]
My current situation is a lituation
[Lituation]
Lituation is my current situation
The crowd is in mayhem. Jackson blows a kiss to the audience. The dancers exit stage. Tisha takes a bow.
“Thank you! God bless you! Goodnight Superbowl 51!”
The stage fades to black.
Edited by user 15 March 2017 17:09:37(UTC)
| Reason: Not specified |
