From The Row to the Streets

Hotep,

I take pride in where I’m from, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Now, don’t mistake pride for arrogance, but I really miss living in Philly.

That H-town tune comes to mind when I think of my city.

That classic joint “Emotions makes you cry sometime.”

Hearing those heartfelt lyrics brings back some great memories.

Like the first time I picked up a basketball,

Going to my first Sixers’ game,

Or, being 11 years old and meeting my first love.

These memories are the foundation of my youth, the blueprint of my being. Feel me?

My feet pounding the pavements of North Philly, is a feeling I long to experience again.

From the Row to the street, a dream Glenn Chapmen made a reality the day he left death row and spent the night at his family’s home. Real talk.

The storms of death row have been tumultuous.

Walking through the gates to freedom will be a much deserved relief.

But, coming in out of the storm doesn’t mean the rain has stopped.

It’s still there. You’ve just moved to a better place.

But, when the rain does stop, I’ll still be holding my umbrella, never forgetting what it all means.

Death row is not recognition, it’s not excitement and it damn sure ain’t no record label.

But all the same, the experience of death row is life altering, changing me forever and forcing me to understand that good people can be put in bad situations. Holla if you hear me Pac.

What does it all mean?

Death row means loneliness.

It means days and nights of dismal feelings.

It means redundant conversations founded on pessimism.

It means awaking to hardened hearts and falling asleep with hopes to awake no more. Feel me?

To my brothers who have recently reunited with their long awaited freedom, I applaud you.

You’ve opened the doors and your Mannofstat is coming through.

Remember, Worthy Opportunities Reveal Diligence

I’m out like Glenn Chapman

Be Easy,

Mannofstat
Copyright © 2010 by Leroy Mann

Racial Justice?

Hotep,

Hip-hop has always been linked to violence. The tragic deaths of Biggie Small, Tupac Shakur and Big L have given some, who are not affiliated with hip-hop, the interpretation that anyone who picks up a microphone is willing to pull a trigger. Real talk.

In the early 90’s, I was a member of a promising hip-hop group. I was known as “Doc Terra” (Da Mann), in the underground hip-hop circuit. We rocked hip-hop clubs from North Philly to Brooklyn, but the high light of my short-lived career as an MC was autographing a promotional photo for my biggest fan. My “Nyse.”

“Nyse” embraced my hip-hop vocation from day one. To her, the photo was symbolic for her uncle’s success, but the state’s attorney saw this same promotional photo as a symbol of violence and used this symbol to intimidate jurors during my trial. Word is bond!

August 11th, 11:40pm marks the deadline for appellant attorneys to file motions on behalf of death row prisoners concerning the racial justice act (RJA). This may be good news for some, possibly great news for others, but for me the RJA is a mere stain on a system soaked in blood. Pursuing this issue is like reprimanding an airline pilot for drinking alcohol before a flight. If you still allow the pilot to fly the plane, the reprimand is futile. Na mean?

The racial justice argument should not be used as a last resort to spare the lives of death row prisoners. Appellant attorneys should not be content with getting their clients’ death sentences overturned to life without parole. Seeking racial justice is not standing for a life sentence.

I’ve been condemned to die for the last 13 years of my life. The state has murdered 35 prisoners in that timeframe. I’ve been subjected to the ritual of officers celebrating executions by having potluck dinners on execution night. So, I think my upcoming expression is warranted. Racial justice should start at the jury selection, not 13 years after you’re sentenced to die. Ya heard?

My jury consisted of 11 whites and 1black (the 2 alternate jurors were white as well). What type of racial justice do you think I received when the DA/pilot exhibited a promotional photo of me wearing a hoodie, standing in an alley to 13 whites and 1 elderly black man?

Bottom line: Racial justice for me is the state correcting their error of rushing to judgment. My image as a hip-hop artist should not have been an essential element in attaining a conviction for 1st degree murder. A new trial would be racial justice. Ya heard?

I’m the true underdog in this fight, but I’m not the first to step into the ring. I’m prepared to go the distance. I’m an MC, not a murderer. I am who I am and I still have the love of my number one fan. Holla if ya hear me “Nyse.”

One Love,

MannofStat
Copyright © 2010 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Sending Birthday Wishes to Leroy Mann (aka Lump)

Birthdays are the perfect time to look forward

…to the new memories that will be made

…new experiences that will be explored

…and new goals to be achieved

Keep your head up and your eyes focused

Happy Birthday Leroy!


“When you feel like giving up, remember why you held on for so long in the first place.”
Unknown


July 22, 2010 will be the 42nd birthday of Leroy Mann. As he celebrates his birthday for the 15th time behind the wall, we are asking his family, friends and supporters to send their prayers, words of encouragement or just birthday wishes. You can use the comments section below or his email address (word2themasses@yahoo.com). Your sentiments can be provided anonymously or you can let him know who is sending him the message.

We will collect comments until 5pm on Monday, July 19, 2010 and they will be forwarded to Leroy on his birthday. Those of you who visit him on a regular basis, he doesn't know we are doing this so please don't mention it to him. It will be a surprise.

How Many Of Us Have Them?

Hotep,

My peoples, it’s a blessing to be in your ear once more.

I’ve been granted this opportunity to breed a word, for thought, to the ears of the masses.

So move in a little closer, and hear me do what I do.

I won’t shout, but these words may get loud. Word is bond.

I came across some old school flix. No, not 10 or 15 years ago. I’m talking about 80’s old school.

The uncut, raw era of hip-hop. Run DMC, Kurtis Blow, LL Cool J, The Fat Boys and Whodini. The Real! Ya heard?

Fresh Fest 1 was my first encounter with the vintage verse: “Now you can look the word up again and again, but the dictionary doesn’t know the meaning of friends.” Yeah, XTC was breathing the truth when he spoke these words.

I had a lot of friends growing up. I came across many acquaintances who posed as friends, but real friends are forever. Na mean?

Rising to the occasion when everything ain’t so sweet.

At some point and time, everyone gets a chink in their armor, but a friend will help repair the damage.

Upgrading your feelings of discouragement and loneliness to optimism and relevancy. Feel me?

Life ain’t easy. Whether it be on the street or inside the box, but a life spent looking for friends produces a life full of acquaintances,

Which takes me back to Fresh Fest 1. The era of Kangols, Lee suits and sheepskin coats. Good memories, no doubt.

I can still hear Whodini blessing the mic. “And if you ask me, you know I couldn’t be much help because a friend is somebody you judge for yourself.” That’s what’s up!

Worthy Opportunities Reveal Diligence.

Nuff said,

Mannofstat
Copyright © 2010 by Leroy Mann