You never know what Lupe Fiasco is going to tweet out next.
While Lupe has gained a reputation for his often erratic tweeting habits, it seems as if the Chi-Town MC is in the process of creating a bizarre, new project on Twitter. Lupe Fiasco has begun writing a a new novel titled Teriyaki Joe: Neo-Harlem Detective on the social media service. Lupe describes his new narrative as an “Afro-Futurist novel that will be written entirely on twitter.” According to Lupe’s Twitter account, the novel will be published in chapters and can be read by fans who follow Lupe’s account.
Thus far, Lupe Fiasco has completed the first three chapters of his novel. You can read a sample chapter – compiled and edited by XXL - directly below.
Teriyaki Joe: Neo-Harlem Detective
Chapter 3: Gravy
Hmmm looks like I’ll be heading upstairs. The cab stinks. The stale intensity of so many burned out digital cigar cores left to decay on the floor. The acid graffiti. It doesn’t fit. Not fit transport for somebody “Going Upstairs” as they say. We all say that. Some champagne and classical music would be nice. Maybe a chauffeur would give the trip up top a fancier sentiment. I mean the best of us should travel with a little more class and dignity.This is like being in a port-o-potty with thrusters. A couple coughs. A well aimed spit. Yeah thats how the “Best Of Us” do it, precisely. Up through the clouds. Directly into the Moon. We pass through it. It’s only a meter thick. So warm. So fake. Color is still wrong to me.
The cab slows to a halt. Border patrol scans the ID tags. All clear. One step down. Disinfection nozzles spray the cab down. Missed a spot. Step three is up next. Blindness. Total sensory disconnect. 3 seconds. 3 weeks. It’s all the same in “non-sense.” Helpless. Out of touch.
“EOJ LAER TON RUOY” ——— *digital sizzle”———————-—•—————————————————-music———————————————————————-!!!
Awww Nice. Grass. Glass. Nothing else. Central Fucking Park Baby! It’s all tai-chi and vegan techno utopia. Upstairs. NH is Downstairs. Can’t see it from here. Shit I wouldn’t wanna see it either. Most these folks never have. Never will. Where’s my devil? Birthing out of Non-sense mode is always a mellow moment. Has to be or the shock would give you a heart attack. Wish I could smoke here.
Man would you look at that. The real Sun. Son of a bitch. My devil approaches. His name is 11. Mid level manager at a pill manufacturer. I don’t believe him. He’s not my devil. Too many questions. He’s just checking me out. He knows I know. He changes to his real voice. All this espionage. Games. The real voice isn’t really right either. Neither are the eyes. All tests. The “air” is thick with nano-machines. It’s like wading in a pool of thin water. It’s what moves things here. A seamless, all encompassing soup of nano-machines & information.A spoonful of this stuff would sell for millions back Downstairs if we had real sunlight to keep it alive that is. What’d he say???!!!
“That’s right Mr.Teriyaki (-It’s Joe!-) I want you to bring my daughter back.” Impossible.
Join us next time for Chapter 4 of… “TERIYAKI JOE: NEO-HARLEM DETECTIVE” #TJNHD