This isn't a traditional video inspiration because there isn't an official video that goes with this song. I have always just loved the imagery of his lyrics.
So here's my short story inspiration that this song gave me:
(Sorry but you have to go to this link. I couldn't find an embed)
http://iloverap.tumblr.com/post/263359590/jay-z-meet-the-parents-produced-by-just-blaze
“This is going to be hard to say to you Ms. Isis, but know that it’s coming from a friend.” There was a silent pause after the statement, which prompted Isis to focus. She turned the television completely off and tapped her cigarette out on an orange plate. Flashes of faces crossed her mind, knowing the voice on the other end would tell her of someone she knew. She leaned forward off the couch and braced herself for Tommy’s message. Tommy, the city morgue’s favorite messenger.
“Isis, I’m afraid it’s your boy. Sean’s dead.” His voice was soft just like the calming rain outside. His words were eerie like the grey skies. He continued talking and explaining but somehow his language seemed too foreign for her to comprehend. The phone receiver dropped from her grasp and landed beside her right foot, knocking down the cocaine mirror on its way.
“I…I can’t…why…” She couldn’t hold it together. Her words were stumbling through her tears, which fought their way through her slobbering sobs. Tommy called her name, through the speaker on the floor, countless times to exhaustion then eventually hung up after understanding that she would never return to the phone.
Sean was her only son. Her eighteen year old baby. It was just the two of them, always had been. Chris, his father, had only seen him once and dismissed the responsibility without a second guess. Isis rocked back and forth on the teal colored couch, half struggling to breathe, half fighting down her anger. Several minutes passed and she came to a decision. She got up and tore out of the house, slamming the screen door behind her and marching purposely up the street. Neighbors gawked, neighbors laughed, neighbors were used to seeing the haggard, coke head walking around with no shoes on and gripping her tattered, holey brown sweater.
“Where’s Chris?” She yelled. “Where’s that bastard of a man? Somebody better tell me!” By the time she was four blocks down, a little crowd had gathered behind her, anxious to see what was going on. Most assumed Isis was just on a drug craving though…had to be if she was yelling for the most notorious drug dealer in the neighborhood. Chris was leaning against a telephone pole talking to some younger drug dealers and giving them their stash for the day. He had on clean, white sneakers, heather grey sweatpants and a crisp white t-shirt. The rain had halted but the air was still muggy.
“Isis baby, what’s up? You need something?” He asked, flashing a million-dollar smile.
“Last night you were in that back alley over there arguing and fussing with somebody. I saw you from Candace’s window. I couldn’t see who you were arguing with because they had they back turned to me.”
“So what. What do you want?” Chris asked, but darted his eyes around in a paranoid-like way.
“So I know you shot that somebody while ya’ll was arguing.”
“Look Isis-,” he said and gripped her up by her collar. “You don’t know nothing and don’t go spreading rumors like that you druggie.” Isis kept her expression calm and pulled the gun out from her sweater.
“You use these young boys to sell your stuff, but you never look them in their eyes. You never really see them Chris. That boy you shot last night was my son. I know it now because he didn’t come home last night. That boy you shot last night was your son.”
