Part 76 - Song Contest IV Winners
by Lord Thomas the Black



Song Contest IV Winners

            Welcome back to another edition of Blackmaille! I know you're all breathlessly awaiting the results of our latest song contest. Truth be told, so was I. Unfortunately, we didn't get a single entry this time around! What happened, people? Has this whole "maille filk" thing run its course, or is no one reading Blackmaille anymore? Maybe you didn't know where to send your entries? Whatever the reason, with the deadline looming and no entries, I was left with one option: throw my hat in the ring and come up with my own filks.

            I've departed a little from the usual route and chosen two rap songs to filk: "'Bout ta Bubble" and "I'm a Playa", both by Tech N9ne, who's a local Kansas City rapper. If you've never heard of him, don't worry, you will soon, no doubt. Go do a "Google" search for him, and check out his music. Also, since we're on the subject, Tech, if you've "Googled" your own name and came across this site, understand that I'm a fan of your music, and that I don't mean any offense by butchering your songs like I'm about to. Please don't shoot me (or worse, send lawyers after me!). One last thing before I dig my own grave here, these lyrics are full of in-jokes, references, and shout-outs to my guys in the Black Oak Maille Guild, so if you don't know what I'm talking about, feel free to email me and I'll explain it as best as I can.

            Anyway, on with the show...


I’m a Mailler
To the tune of “I’m a Playa”, with apologies to Tech N9ne
Man: 1971 Thomas A. Beckett was born
Woman: 1995 Thomas joins the SCA
Man: 1996 Thomas adopts the name Thomas the Black
Woman: 1997 Thomas the Black works his first demo at the KC Renfest
Man: 1999 Thomas begins demo’ing maille
Woman: 2006 Thomas buys his first Tech N9ne CD
Man: 2009 For a song contest on his popular “Blackmaille” site, Thomas sits down to write….
[Thomas the Black]
I'm a mailler! {*18X*}
I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler
I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler
I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler
Oh oh oh I'm a mailler
(Ya, Tommy Beckett is a mailler)
If you see rings lookin' clean cut
Matchin' from head to toe inlaid with some brass stuff
Coilin’ and cuttin’ steel stuff
Hella oiled up with the mild tough
Ain't no stainless gettin’ painless with the mandrel wound up
If you see me step off in the renfest with my bro’s
With about six coils cut no longer waitin' to be chosen
If you hear me tell my homies anything goes
With this chicken Stamburger right when the renfest close
If you see me with the fire heatin’ wire
If you thinkin’ you desire against me to conspire
If you hear me crackin’ wise, rippin' all the other guys
If I clip off the ends and you still got your eyes
If I'm rollin' up rings, for some SCA things
If they showin' me bling with a gold ring with a gleam
If you see them haters givin' mean-mugs
Wenches givin' me hugs
Know it ain't no rocket science it's because
[Chorus] 2x
I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler
I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler
I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler
Oh oh oh I'm a mailler
(Ya, Tommy Beckett is a mailler)
I'm a mailler in every sense of the word ya heard
I'm gettin' money from these dummies flip those rings so absurd
I'm a mailler and I teach maillers
I'm a mailler when I don't or when I write maillers
Them Blackmaillers
She don't want no jeweler sayin’ he do when he don't
She don't want no perpetratin' high-schooler tryin’ to flaunt
She don't want no smith that can't get it fixed
No she don't
That's how it goes so my homie Louis, tell 'em what she want
She want a mailler not thugs on dubs
We be rollin' 3/8ths in steel
Cuttin' coils for real
I'm weavin’ 1-in-6, cuttin’ coils with snips
Forgotten Sea never trips, gots lots to clip
And I'm pullin' out the pliers
And coilin’ up the wire
I'm usin’ blowtorch fire
With rings of mild steel wire
This chick might be our “New Guy”
If girlie plays her cards right
Damn my mug has gone dry
So I’ll buy
If you fly
[Chorus] 2x
I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler
I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler
I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler
Oh oh oh I'm a mailler
(Ya, Tommy Beckett is a mailler)
(Listen closely, this is somethin' you might not know)
Never ever tell your weave or else you’ll lose your weave
Knit in groups, no one-on-one when you makin’ sleeves
And you should know this if you call yourself Maille Monkeys
If you workin’ demos, hide away your locker keys
If you maillin’, learn this lesson when you wash off
Don’t use cold water, put some Gojo on your washcloth
That way when you get done
No black marks, you won't leave her bent
Don't be a dope and not use soap 'cause it will leave a scent
Don't tell a new member that you’re the go-to guy for maille
Cause if he hears it then your teacher gon’ be raising hell
If you takin’ commissions for your newly set-up shop
Always set your limits or the changes never ever stop
To all my ladies if you maillin’ throw your wire up
To all my fellas if you maillin’ throw your pliers up
This is forever baby havin' metal thangs
I'm a mailler monkeyfarmer and I bet I never change
[Chorus] 4x
I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler
I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler
I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler
Oh oh oh I'm a mailler
(Ya, Tommy Beckett is a mailler)
[Chorus] Slowly
I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler
(I'm a mailler!)
I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler
(No stoppin me!)
I'm a mailler, I'm a mailler
I'm a mailler!

            Yeah, I rock the mic. Anyway, just to dig the hole a little deeper...


‘Bout ta Demo

To the tune of “Bout ta Bubble”, with apologies to Tech N9ne

Dedicated to all the maillers all over the world, man.

(One for the mandrel, two for the brass
Come on Maille Monkeys, let's kick some ass)

Beck's in the place, everybody get maillin’
Punks betta cuff yo ego, ain't no monkeys trailin’
Failin’ to teach your snotty brat maillin’
Jewelers used to hate me, now they all up in here hailin’

Rings in the box,  anvil on blocks
Got wire knots, payin’ attention worth squat
Wound, wiggety-wiggety wound, wound up the stock
Reachin for snips, but you slip,
When you trip to the clip but you flip... DWAM!!!
I ain't never seen so much green
Than when I seen when my team hit the scene
It must be a dream. Hit the dell, everybody love us

Gettin rep, settin’ up, ain’t no one above us
Jesus, I don't want to leave nobody toothless
Cuz they stupid in the middle of what I do best
You fixin to see me in the renfest with a few guests
We bout to demo baby, get ya Black Oak vest

Bout ta demo [6x]

Bout ta demo, Baby [3x]
We got your armor

And coilin' and cuttin' and maillin' and likin' it [2x]

Yo, get ya ID, dell pass, show stealin’
All around the fest, busy with the brass weavin’
We don’t like packin’ up, yeah we hate leavin’
When we through rockin' the demo, man we break even
Tent full of bugs, dell full of bugs,

Fest full of bugs, Mt Dew in the mug
Frown, cause I swat a bug down in the mug
Gimme the steel and we feelin’
No mercy for the patrons that steal
On to the next, Bonner Springs to the southern lands
Veterans, caravans, gettin' dinner, man
Round the city with my crew back to the ‘view
Shawnee Mission, Leawood , Kansas City to the ‘View
Everybody hifey, the fest really like me
Black Oak got it where the Scot Games invite me
Beck's in the dell when the mood really strikes me
Hey, we bout to demo, so imbedded in your psyche


Hey, Guild-boys makin’ rings wit it
Off in the renfest let me see ya weave maille wit it
Coil and cut wit it, K-Town stuck wit it
At the fest, hottie wench make her double D's jump to this
Base of the hill, back in the Dell
Maille monkeys daily raisin’ up much hell
India’s makin’ all the riveted maille

Master Maldwyn, he taught me a lot in this business for real
Stormin'. In Kansas City performin' as Normans
Back in my garments in the mornin', I'm armin’
Leavin' 'em torn, mess with the bull you get the horns
Steven gets with a beauty, damn, she’s charmin’
Copper wire failed me, jewelers tryin’ to hail me
Ain't too many who don't know just who the Blackmailler be
Is she lookin' for somethin' with a metal so shiny
Kansas City Renfest is where she gone find me



            Yeah, so...there you go. That'll teach you people to leave me to my own devices! Next song contest, I want to see some entries, dammit! In fact, why don't you go ahead and start working on some now, so when the announcement rolls around again, you'll be ready. The more entries I get, the less likely I am to do my own. That should be motivation enough right there.

            In the meantime, thanks for joining us for another month of Blackmaille! As usual, any questions, comments, hate mail (there's sure to be some now!), or fan mail (not so much) can be sent to me at:

                                                            c/o Tom Beckett
                                                            13628 Belmead Ave
                                                            Grandview, MO 64030

Or you can email me at: subject line: Blackmaille

            See you next month (unless I've chased off all my readers)!

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