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Well I am Sister Jazzy your Mic MC

Nuff of dem just a wonder bout me

Am I a Yankee Or Yardie!

Well listen very closely 

and listen carefully 

cuz I'm about to drop down my family history!

Well mi grandfather born and grow in a Mexico 

him had a one friend named Pancho Vio 

the two of dem together dem was Pachuco 

the two of dem together did fight the gringo!

Soon my grandfather meet me Granny 

little after that they have mi daddy

and please don't forget about me two Aunties 

Well mi father grow a man and he meet mi Mami

the two of dem together they did produce me

Now I am grown and known as Sister Jazzy 

(follow me)

S-is for Sincerity 

I-is for Irresistibly 

The other S is for Sincerity 

while the T is for Tremendous

the E is for Enormous 

and the R stands for Righteous 

The J is for Justifiably 

The A is for Absolutely 

The one Z is for Zealous 

The other Z is for Zesty 

While the Y means simply Yours Truly 

You put that all together 

That a mi your Mic MC

That a mi Sister Jazzy....

Chicahuac Necahuatl aka Sister Jazzy ©1980-2025

(Written in San Francisco CA in the "80's")

i am trying to separate

to tear the skin from the you

but the skin is music

and every song is a conjuring

i can’t listen to the ghosts or with them

but i am always drawn back

i can’t sing into their mouths

mouths without teeth that will swallow me whole

turn me into a pipeline

bedridden with all these psychedelic blankets

i yell out the window enough to be kurt cobain’s muse

sew banshees into my nailbeds

can’t tell if i want

modest animals or feral humans

interpolate the beat until i have made it something else

a song i have never heard

i yell out the ending to another story.

but is it an ending

or just a ceasefire.

use this new angle

looking from the core of the earth

to turn this heat upside down

surprise high notes make their way out of my throat

penny memories to nickel finger twists

to letting you hear this now

a journey no matter how many limbs I’ve lost

half the voices I chase cross the country

the other half tucked under my pillow

I can still give you this sound

faster than I can give you

my fingers

a smell from 10 years ago

the fleeting sunset

the pain in your chest

but really

isn’t it all the same

so make me a half rest in your closet

or a disco on the stage

as long as you

keep me in your head