Archive for the ‘Billy Sunday @ XXL’ Category

The Fat Boys Reunion > Hot Boys Reunion

Thursday, February 21st, 2008

FAT BOYS

Now who among us really believed that the Hot Boys would reunite in N’Awlins this past weekend? The real question is who among us even gives a fuck? First of all, Turk is in jail. How are you gonna have the Hot Boys without Turk? That’s like having a club sandwich with no bacon. Turk is also the third best rapper in the Hot Boys behind Juvey and B.G. Secondly, the Cash Money clique is so fucked the fuck up with legal problems and money issues you Wayne fans will be lucky if they even release the Carter III as an EP. Sort of like how they unceremoniously leaked ‘The Leak’.

It’s not just Turk who is facing some legal issues either. Lil’ Wayne’s under indictment, Baby is under indictment, B.G. is going through the revolving door of rehab and Juvenile has been in the game for damn near twenty years. By the time these dudes get their minds right the Hot Boys will be ice cold (no Andre3000). Motherfuckers will be back to disco dancing again. I’m sure T-Pain and others will still be using that annoying whiny vocoder shit. How the fuck does rap hope to survive when every act worth seeing is looking at some jail time? Thank God for the Roots.

But even the Roots might fuck around and pull a fast one and just fuck with the R&B. At least R&B niggas are staying out of jail for the most part, other than Robert Sylvester and some irrelevant niggas from 112. I guess that’s because all the niggas fucking with R&B now are white. Justin, Robin Thicke, El-P. The best R&B chick is white too. For someone who stays as high on that shermrock as Amy Winehouse does I wonder why she never gets pinched for holding any contraband? Her weedcarriers are good like that. So while some of us pine away for the glory days of rap music circa 1999, the rest of us have to keep it moving.

A few weeks back there was an interesting day scheduled in the criminal courts here in New York City. There was a veritable Summer jam lineup. Busta Rhymes has a hearing on his assault charges, while Remy Martin was having her indictment amended to include witness tampering and Ja Rule and Lil’ Wayne were charged with illegal possession of an unloaded firearm. Are you going to tell me that all these guys are victims of the Hip-Hop police or are they just a bunch of numbskulls who do dumb shit? The only reason we cared about any of them is because they were entertainers so maybe if we turned our backs these clowns might get back to making music and earning their publicity for the shit they release?

This is why I tell you that a Fat Boys reunion is better than a Hot Boys reunion. It’s more likely to happen too even with one of those bastards being dead. If and when the Fat Boys get back together it will be all about rapping. And mostly eating, but definitely some rapping. There won’t be any reports of weed or HGH being thrown around on the tour bus. There won’t be any shots fired at their club dates, unless they perform in Minnesota and someone mistakes the dark-skinned one for a bear. And it won’t take forever for their album ‘Ride Or Diet’ to be released either. Face the facts, Fat Boys > Hot Boys. ‘We On Fire’ might have been the gheyest title for a song until the Lil’ Wayne joint ‘Kiss Me Baby’. The Fat Boys were fat, but they were definitely NOT the ghey.

The Upcoming Rapper Recession…

Thursday, January 31st, 2008

know the ledge

It’s BXS list time again bitches.

Good news party people, Roc—A-Fella Records was just playing possum. They about to release a compilation with the greatest hits you never heard from Memphis Bleek, Amil and Christion. Fire bitches, straight fire.

Someone on one of these threads coined the phrase ‘Rapper Recesssion’. I thought that was pretty astute coming from the pool of degenerates that typically hangs out here at XXLmag dot com. The statement might be truer than most of us want to believe too. If the United States economy has a significant downturn like all the financial smartypants people are projecting then you can definitely kiss that Only Built For Cuban Links 2 album to the wind. No one is going to want to take a chance on some old rappers looking to relive their glory days.

How many of you went to see that movie called the ‘Bucket List’? My point, exactly.

So if dark days are ahead for the U.S. economy what the hell will some of these rappers do to make ends meet? Please don’t say sell drugs. The only hustling that most of these rappers really know about is the kind where a man sells his ass to another man.

True story.

What did your boy Rick Ross say? “Every day I’m hustling”?!? Extra [ll] to that song and everyone who rhymed on the remix from now on. So aside from becoming a prostitute which I am sure that some rappers will fall into head over heels[ll], I thought we could take a look at some of the professions where rappers might find the transition a little easier into something that keeps them lockstep with their lyrics.

Grocery store checkout clerk – Not the dude on the register, since most rappers suck with handling money, but the cat that asks “paper or plastic”. How many times have rappers talked about their brown paper bags? Plus it’s almost like asking someone whether they want the red top or the blue top.

Sanitation department crewmember – This should keep rappers busy as they put all that crunk snap crap that has been filling the airwaves for the last several years in a garbage truck.

Laundry room attendant – Fools always talking about how they work with pounds so lets see them clean a few pounds of stanky drawls.

Military service – How many times have you hears rappers talk about busting gats and shit? Too many to count. It’s time to make all these shooters show and prove. Send these fucks to Iraq or Afghanistan and tell them to keep it gansgta with some a-rabs that live in caves and haven’t showered in years. Dudes will come back stateside rhyming like the Fresh Prince instead of Frank White.

English teacher – KanYe West was invited to some college to give a commencement speech or some shit. The irony is that the college dropout is caking up way more than 99.99% of the fools with degrees. Soulja Boy and Lil’ Wang both dropped out of grade school, so maybe they could give back to the community by returning to school to become English teachers. Real schools might be too strict with their accreditation requirements so instead these fools could teach one of those English as second language classes that all the immigrantes go to.

One way or the other rappers better get their Plan B’s popping, and I’m not even talking about the abortion pills.

An Open Letter To Lil’ Wang…

Thursday, January 24th, 2008

lil wang Before dunn Heath Ledger’s himself. No Brokeback to the following drop…

Wang,
Yo dunn, I know I have used this column to criticize and cajole your rhyme skills but when it all comes down to it I have respected your work ethic as you have tried to live up to the potential that everyone claims you have. In truthfulness, I always considered you the best Lil’ of all the Lil’s. Lil’ Jon, Lil’ Flip, Lil’ Kim, Lil’ Scrappy, Lil’ Webbie, Lil’ Fingers, Lil’ Mo, Lil’ Mama and Lil’ Maxso, but Lil’ Maxso is on the come up something serious so don’t sleep.

It’s just that I don’t want to see you waste your life on pills and white powder. That drug shit will be around for ever and ever. What is fleeting and temporary by its nature is life itself. Fuck ever rapping in a microphone ever again. Your life is on the line now. Just like Kurt Cobain, or Heath Ledger. As a matter of fact, exactly like Heath Ledger in ‘Brokeback Mountain’ since you kiss men in the mouth. You have a window right now to escape from and reclaim your humanity.

This rap shit will always be available to you Wang. The kids that listen to rap music now could care less if you belched into a microphone. So now it looks like you will have to sit in the Bing in Phoenix. While your long awaited album ‘The Carter III’ gets pushed back to Nevuary 2007. The C III was going to be that album all the haters were going to love on the low[ll]. Instead everyone gets a mugshot of blue ribbon capture courtesy of the Arizona police. Is this the image that you want you daughter to have of you?

The first step in the rest of your life is going to be the most difficult. You are going to have to remove some long term acquaintances from your cipher. Birdbrain Baby is the first. I know how strongly you feel about dude by the way you close your eyes when you kiss him on the lips. But you are going to need to remove your dependency from your drug supplier before you remove your dependency from your supply of drugs. This also means no Hot Boys re-union just yet. You aren’t strong enough to be around B.G. right now. I’m pretty sure that fool is still twerking.

At the end of the day, no matter where you go there you are. So if you aren’t ready to put down abusing drugs then you won’t make the changes necessary. In truth, your favorite drugs will be around for a mighty long time since they are synthetic anyhoo. If you can prove to yourself now that you can put down using and you are in control then you won’t have any problems later on if you have a relapse or two. The point is to prove to yourself that you have a value outside of this music bullshit.

How do I know so much about the demons chasing you and how you have to rid yourself of them? I too was drug abuser. And I was also born the same day as you, just ten years before you. Be easy and drive slow Lil’ Wang, for your daughter and for yourself.

RAP MUSIC… WHO THE FUCK CARES?!?

Wednesday, January 23rd, 2008

old people car

Old folks stand up and throw some D’s on this bitch!

I am officially old and washed up. I have been in denial for the last several years in part because the music I enjoyed during my youth was still populated by artists that I enjoyed listening to when I was a bit younger. Even though these artists found it increasingly difficult to produce and release new music just their presence reassured me that I still belonged among them. When the realization finally hit me that I no longer belonged it was colder than ice cold water to my face. I remember this feeling many years ago when this little Philipino chick that I was crushing on sent word through one of my friends that she didn’t like me that way. Heartbreak doesn’t even go deep enough.

I found myself at the wrap party for The Wire last night(more on that later) and my homey from Brooklyn Bodega told me to leave rap music alone. I was too old. It no longer was for me. I resisted. In my mind I begged rap music to reconsider my feelings. We did have good times together didn’t we? Sure I dated soul, funk, jazz and rock music on the side, but that was for sample sources, so that I could become a better lover of rap music. I always came back didn’t I? Rap music unfortunately had moved on. There was no time for a guy like me who had all of these lofty demands.

Here I am trying to espouse complex socio-economic themes and heaven forbid, polysyllabic rhyme schemes while rap music has moved in the direction of songs based on guttural expressions like ‘Yaaah’. This isn’t the fault of Soulja Boy either even though he failed the 9th grade twice before dropping out of high school. I can relate to his plight since I have a G.E.D. my damn self. His triumphant satisfaction with lyrical mediocrity was already trumpeted by the crapper Mims when he said that “I can sell a mill saying nothing on the track”.

This is a scary moment for me. Someone cue up that song from Rose Royce ‘Love Don’t Live Here Anymore’.

Thank you.

So where do I go from here? I suppose I could go back into my funk mode, but lord knows that shit only sounds good with reefer. I love Coltrane ’til deaf, but his music just doesn’t make my head nod unless its sampled by the Bomb Squad. I supposed I could pull some 1980’s new wave shit out for a minute, but when you listen to too much Soft Cell that shit gives you a vagina like HGH. I think its time for me to pull out my Bad Brains and The Clash albums. No one is talking that hardbody social justice shit anymore. The revolution always gets co-opted and silkscreened onto a t-shirt like Che Guevara.

The future of rap music was going to be Joell Ortiz and Saigon with NaS leading the way through the darkness. My problem was that I refused to believe that Hip-Hop died way back in 1979 with the release of the ghost-written classic ‘Rapper’s Delight’. Ever since that moment when three total strangers were assembled to form the SugarHill Gang rap music has been a contrived, commodified commercial corpse. There’s no point in giving this carcass Detox. It’s been dead for thirty years.

A Night At The Museum…

Saturday, January 19th, 2008

kitty

I am thinking of a master plan along with kitty cat. I suppose it’s time for me to grow up and get serious about being some kind of dude that writes shit. There’s only but so much that I can do for myself and kitty as a blogger. Real world writers don’t consider me one, and neither do journalists. It’s like bloggers are the Mexicans of the written word. No offense to all my Mexican blogger friends.

And why shouldn’t bloggers get the respect accorded to mainstrem media? Is it because we sit in our parent’s basement instead of a television studio? None of that should even matter. It’s just that I feel like we do the heavy lifting that newsroom editors get props for.

Do I waste your time with useless information?

Okay, but do I do that ALL of the time?

Alright, but don’t I at least write something decent once a week?

Once a month?

Maybe this is why I haven’t been able to break out of blogging. I suck ballsachs [ll] at writing.

Before I dropped out of high school I had an English teacher who hated my guts. She told me to kill myself. After I got my G.E.D. and went to college I has an English professor accuse me of plagiarism because she couldn’t believe the shit I wrote came from me. So I dropped out of college. I didn’t plagiarize that piece and I didn’t drop out because my professor’s didn’t believe in me. I left school because I didn’t believe in me.

The kid needed a pick-me-up this past week that I hoped would get my focus and attitude adjusted to finishing up my memoir about coming of age in the urban metropolis of NYC. I figured I would blow through one of my favorite buildings in the city to siphon off some of the energy that it has always given me. The American Museum of Natural History is a tremendous facility just from the standpoint of its exterior architecture. It invokes my earliest memories of American castlea like the mansions in Cape Cod and Newport.

Inside the museum it is simply an unbelievable head trip to see things that exist or previously did on this planet. The Smithsonian is of course the G.O.A.T. of this museum shit, but nothing beats the “pay what you wish” entry fee at AMNH. The first place you have to visit is the Hall of Biodiversity. Also known as the ‘Can’t We All Just Get Along For Thirty Million Years Room’. That’s where they have these exhibits of ocean life and a full-size model of a blue whale suspended from the ceiling. I had to go through to see my cousins the grizzly bears.

bears

GOD created man the same way he made animals that is why some people resemble tigers and monkeys, some people look like birds and some folks smell like bears. I recognize my bear lineation from my ability to eat food off the ground and also the fact that I can sleep for several months in a row without pooping myself. Bears are also pretty resourceful as wild animals.

Nothing compares to the dinosaur exhibits in this museum though. I remember how big these animals appeared when I was a child. They aren’t as large anymore in my eyesight, but for whatever reason they appear even stranger now.

bears

The flying dinosaurs are crazy. They remind me Terry the pterodactyl from Pee Wee’s Playhouse. I think of them as always smiling although there had to be some moments where a pterodactyl was sad, or at least melancholy. Now an animal with a smile is the O.G. shark. I believe it is called the sharkosaurus and if it isn’t then someone needs to copyright that name just in case sharkosauruses come back to life. Your attorney can subpoena them and be like, “You sharkosauruses owe us several million Paleolithic dollars.” Can you imagine the interest on that money now? I don’t think they used dollars back then, but if they did I wonder who was on the two dollar bill?

bears
The point of this drop was that I was feeling sorry for myself for being a bum that eats tuna from the can along with kitty when I realized that the fish that I need to swim with are the sharks. Everybody loves Shark Week on the Discovery Channel. I really want to take my shit to that next-next but to do so I am going to have to go in deep. I may drown myself with emotion.

Shit can get so real…