Thursday, July 10, 2008

Change is Dangerous... as a King standing on a Terrace...


"... Iraq, gotdamn, now he gunnin for Iran/North Korea got that shit that make LA look like Japan." -Big Boi, "Royal Flush"

That's who I'm worried about, North Korea. Not Iran, no matter how many missiles they "test." Forgive me for not falling in line behind Condoleeza Rice in her sentiments to protect all of our allies (meaning Israel) from attack.

New World Order anyone?

Meanwhile, black America is all up in arms about dumb, irrelevant ass Jesse Jackson and dreams of cutting off Obama's balls. Probably been looking for a pair for a while now. Trust me folks, we got much bigger fish to fry than washed up ex-black "leaders" and their supposed inadvertent whispers on national TV. Hell, it probably helped Obama to not be endorsed by Jesse's needlessly inflammatory self.

My theory is that Obama should appear as conservative and hard-nosed as possible. He should publicly flip-flop on everything from Iraq, to healthcare, to the environment. He should appear to be as disconnected from black America and the black experience as possible. He should whip out that picture of the white grandma that raised him at every turn and he should keep Michelle Obama in the house and start an affair with a white, blonde-haired intern. If he does all of that, he will have a legitimate chance of becoming the first black president of the United States. People are sheep. They say that want change, but deep down their afraid of it and feel much more comfortable going with the status quo- which is why Barack has to play the game to win.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Tay & Zo are Only Human


So Phonte just shot me this link to his new ditty with Zo, "Human" featuring Carlitta Durand. This shit jams. Makes me wanna hop in the Neon, put my shades on, roll down the windows and hit the lanes doin a fresh 83 miles an hour.

Or at least imagine I am because gas is damn $4.05 gallon and my ass ain't goin nowhere.

Anyhoo. Relax to this. This nigga Tay hittin high notes like Maxwell or somebody.

Monday, July 7, 2008

Rupert Murdoch Can't Take the "Pressure"


So, I just received word from Encyclopeezia Brown that Myspace has pulled Killer Mike's "Pressure" (see the post below) video from Myspace because of "violent images and nudity."

Uh. Shoulda known that one was coming. Apparently, they said they will repost it once it's edited. No word yet on whether the decision will be made to accommodate their request or not. We'll see.

Pressure- Killer Mike feat. Cube

Killer Mike is probably the most important dude in rap right now. I say that because he's not afraid to say what needs to be said, regardless of record sales. He's able to speak to both dominant sides of the black experience-- the intellectuals and the working class. He says what he means, and even when you don't agree with him, you know he's speaking his truth. When he talks about what needs to happen in our community, it's not rhetoric. He really is out here, speaking to kids, participating in rallies-- not only representing the struggle, but participating in it. And, probably most importantly he doesn't only talk about the issues that plague black America, or even why those issues exist. Dude regularly offers legitimate SOLUTIONS to the problems. Not saying that everything he says is the truth, or will work, but at least he's moving past rhetoric and discussion and into solution-oriented action.

Anyways, ya'll have probably seen this video by now, but I had to post it anyhow. His album, I Pledge Allegience to the Grind II is easily the best of the year. It's one of those projects where you get something different, or hear something new damn near every time you listen to it. He's an incredible writer with a common sense message that too many folks are afraid to deliver.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Wolfin' It

Yelawolf is one of the dopest dudes on the block. Spotted this over at Senor Kaos' Blog... and it pretty funny. "Gone" is one of my favorites off of Stereo, but the whole damn thing is dope as shit. Download it.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

the tale of the big ass chain


Alright, so, about a month and a half ago or so, I was at Bun B's listening party at Verve. I'm chilling, having a great time, chopping it up with my boys and listening to Bun's project. In walks unnamed rapper and unnamed rapper's big ass, sparkling chain.

I subtly eye it and keep talking. Hell, I've been around countless rappers and their jewelry before. No, big deal. Right? Not this time. This shit is glistening so brightly, it damn near illuminates the entire area. I eye it again and keep talking.

Slowly, I start to move away from said rapper and his glorious chain. I figure that if I can move away, I will be unaffected by its mesmerizing charms. If I move away, I won't think about how much I could get for it. I won't think about how if I just sauntered up to him, pretending to be a fan of his lame ass music, and quickly snatched it off of his neck, I could pay off my school loans, my '02 Dodge Neon and move out of my janky ass apartment complex.

Just when I thought I had avoided temptation, unnamed rapper and his big ass chain, start heading in my direction.

Shit.

I try to look away but I can't. I keep thinking about the sweet victory I'll be able to yell to Capital One auto loans when I pay their punk asses off... "take that, bitches!!" I keep thinking about the Sallie Mae 'pay us' letters I'll no longer have to avoid.

I take a deep breath and clutch my Heineken tight. I have will power. Really, I do. As unnamed rapper moves closer, oblivious to my thoughts, my fingers start itching...and I'm not even a clepto. The only thing I've ever stolen was a pair of $2 earrings from Target when I was 16. And I only did that to say that I had the experience.

Unnamed rapper is itching closer and closer and I start to visualize myself snatching the chain and running like a wild woman down the stairs of Verve, out of the club, and down the street, passing crackheads and scantily clad women with low self-esteem on my run of victory. Sweet, sweet victory. I take a long blink lost in the oh, so tangible fantasy.

Just then, unnamed rapper and his big ass chain quickly pass me by. I guess he had made the required rounds, paying homage to an established vet, and was leaving. I breathed a sigh of relief. I had evaded temptation... barely.

Moral of the story: Don't wear big ass chains out in public in the midst of a damn depression.
Thanks.

(And no, Joc- who is a cool dude- is NOT the unnamed rapper in this particular tale. His shit is just ridiculously large and illustrated my point).