Archive for August, 2009

Broke No Joke…

Friday, August 28th, 2009


I’ve got no one to blame but myself for the fact that I am broker than a muvv right now. A few months ago I thought I was getting on a spaceship so I stopped paying my bills and I started getting fresh(er). My spaceship turned into a pumpkin so I am back to life, back to reality.

The ice water wake up call came from some lawyers that my mortgage company hired to scare the shit out of me with a foreclosure notice. Thankfully I’m not going to be marshalled out of my crib. I might not have any telephone or lights for a few weeks but I will still have the roof over my head.

I tell you all of this in case you had a couple of bucks sitting in the PayPal that you weren’t sure what to do with. Believe me when I tell you that I don’t want to impose myself on anyone’s recreational drug bidget. Lord knows we needs our medicines. I’m just rattling the tip jar for the user supported programming here on this site.

Until I get the ticket to the spaceship it’s gonna be just us over here hollerin’ for justice everywhere. You already know how we do it. Just click on the PRA’LI box over to your right and drop a little whatever you might feel. These is mos definitely your internets and I’m only the janitor out the muvv. Thx.


Sprockets Rap?

Friday, August 28th, 2009


Let’s hope this isn’t another leak from the new Jay-Z album?

At the rate things are going I’m gonna need to query Combat Jack via TWitter and get his perspective on how soon it will be before his boy Jay is rhyming using autotune. It shouldn’t be too long since he’s already rocking the ‘Ye Tudda shades and the Jesus piece.

Enjoy some Friday morning shit sandwich with your coffee…

Ghetto Techno

ghetto techno

Forever: In Black And White…

Thursday, August 27th, 2009


Madd respect to The Rockabye Review

The above embedded track is titled ‘Forever’ and it is becoming the 2009 ‘Swagga Like Us’.

‘Forever’ features Drake, KanYe West, Lil’ Wayne and Eminem.

From a rapping standpoint Eminem came in the hardest. KanYe West also delivered a supreme verse, but Eminem was the king on this track. After KanYe West we have Drake and then Wayne’s verses to round out the fantastic four. Actually, Drake and Wayne’s verses weren’t all that spectacular. Drake’s lines are serviceable, Wayne is totally overshadowed by KanYe and Eminem. Wayne doesn’t even belong on this record.

The Lil’ Wang fans will immediately accuse me of hating on their favorite rapper, but the truth is that I listened to this song more than fifty times while I set up all the drops for my site today. To prove my point that Wayne’s verses are subpar I will go to the numbers that don’t ever lie. I believe the polysyllabic word count not only illustrates which artist’s have better lines but better technique and mic skills.

Word Count: 222
Polysyllabic: 12

There they go, packin’ stadiums as Shady spits his flow
Nuts they go, macademia, and they go so ballistic, whoa
He can make them look like bozos, he’s wonderin’ if he should spit this slow
Fuck no, don’t provoke, his cup just runneth over, oh, no
He ain’t had it with bars like this since the last time that he overdosed
They been waitin’ patiently for Pinocchio to poke his nose
Back into the game and they know rap’ll never be the same as before
Bashin’ in the brains of these hos, and establishin’ a name as he goes
The passion and the flame is ignited, you can’t put it out once we light it
This shit is exactly what the fuck that I’m talkin’ about when we riot
You dealin’ with a few true villians who stand inside of the booth true spillin’
And spit true feelings until them tooth fillings come flyin’ up out of our mouths, then rewind it
Payback, motherfucker, for the way you got at me, how’s it taste?
I’ma slap the taste out of your mouths with the bass so loud that it shakes the place
I’m Hannibal Lecter, so just in case you’re thinkin’ of saving face
You ain’t gonna have no face to save by the time I’m through with this, play some Drake

Word Count: 185
Polysyllabic: 8

I used to have hood dreams: Big fame, big chains
I stuck my dick inside this life until that bitch came
And went hard all fall like the ball teams
Just so I could make it rain all spring
Y’all seen my story, my glory
I had raped the game young, you could call it statutory
When a nigga blow up, they gon’ build statues for me
Old money, Benjamin Button, what, nothin’
Nah, superbad chicks givin’ me McLovin’
You would think I ran the world like Michelle’s husband
You would think these niggas know me when they really doesn’t
Like they was down with the old me, no, you fuckin’ wasn’t
“Uh, you such a fuckin’ loser
You ain’t even go to class, Bueller”
Trade the Grammy plaques just to have my granny back
‘Member she had that bad hip like a fanny pack?
Chasing the stardom’ll turn you to a maniac
All the way in Hollywood and I can’t even act
They pull they cameras out, and God damn, they snap
I used to want this thing forever, you can have it back

Word Count: 144
Polysyllabic: 3

Last name Ever, first name Greatest
Like a sprained ankle, boy, I ain’t nothin’ to play with
Started off local, but thanks to all the haters
I know G4 pilots on a first-name basis
In your city faded off the brown, Nino
She insists she got more class, we know
Swimming in the money, come and find me, Nemo
If I was at the club you know I balled, chemo
Dropped a mixtape, that shit sounded like an album
Who’da thought a country-wide tour be the outcome
Labels want my name beside an X like Malcolm
Everybody got a deal, I did it without one
Yeah, nigga, I’m about my business
Killin’ all these rappers, you would swear I had a hitlist
Everyone who doubted me is askin’ for forgiveness
If you ain’t been a part of it, at least you got to witness

Word Count: 160
Polysyllabic: 3

Okay, hello, it’s the Martian, Space Jam Jordans
I want this shit forever, wake up and smell the garden
Fresher than the harvest, step up to the target
If I had one guess, then I guess I’m just New Orleans
And I will never stop, like I’m runnin’ from the cops
Hopped up in my car and told my chauffer “To the top”
Life is such a fuckin’ roller coaster, then it drops
But what should I scream for? This is my theme park
My mind shine even when my thoughts seem dark
Pistol on my side, you don’t want to hear that thing talk
Let the king talk, check the price and pay attention
Lil Wayne, that’s what they got to say or mention
I’m like Nevada in the middle of the summer
I’m resting in the lead, I need a pillow and a cover
Shhh, my foot’s sleepin’ on the gas
No brake pads, no such thing as last

You can even see through the text formatting that Eminem is going in with his bars. He spits a polysyllabic word per every 18.5 words in his verse, while Drake has a polysyllabic word for every 47 words he issues and Wang comes through with an abysmal tally of 53.3 words for every one that he utters with more than three syllables. KanYe West was right on Eminem’s heels with a count of 23.125 within his bars and that figure slightly more than doubles Drake’s output.

There are two things that I would like to clarify here. Rap music is firstly and foremost about the skill and dexterity the orator has with language. Some of us might use the term wordplay but it extends far deeper[ll] than simply playing with words. Does the orator have a mastery of words? Or is the speaker restricted by his or her own limited vocabulary? Complex compound words are the zenith of the English language. If you think grunts and chirps are so evocative why aren’t you in an aviary(see what I just did) listening to birds tweet since you are obviously a birdbrain?

Finally, if you take away anything from this drop it should be the knowledge that some rappers make simple rhymes for simple minds.

‘Nuff said.

Internets Heavy In These Streets…

Thursday, August 27th, 2009


^ That’s ny nig Meyhem Lauren

Meyhem Lauren featuring Roc Marciano – ‘Animal Science’

I’m jumping out the window hardbody this week (no Ron Browz and DEFINITELY no Erick Sermon). If you got some shit going down and you got free alcohol for the kid make sure you holla at me. I’m not talking that bullshit Pabst Blue Ribbon either my niggas. I want that top shelf if you want me at your event. I could sit in my own damn house and drink malt liquor or bumwines by my damn self.

Last night was the Kid Cudi listening session. I like his album but it is so not anything that most heads are ready to hear. I feel like the music is a continuation of the 808’s sound without the autotune pitch correction on the vocals. It’s just as experimental though. There’s definitely some joints on there that you would feel familiar with (comfortable), but I don’t think Cudi wants niggas to feel comfortable. He has an artistic vision that wants to present and he does it. I’ll give you a drop on Cudi’s album in a day or so. Right now I’m focusing on the Raekwon listening event later on today.


Wu-Tang changes rap music for the better in the early mid nineties. Everything they represented from unity to beats to the most vicious rhymes ever put into a mic device is what the Wu is all about. Raekwon’s Only Built 4 Cuban Linx 2 is getting the best reviews from all the people whose opinions I trust. I’m ready to become a stan again. Would I be retarded if I pulled out the Snow Beach pullover in 90 degree weather. The answer to that is hells yeah.

After Raekwon’s performance I have to bounce into Brooklyn and parlay with the kid Meyhem Lauren. He’s got a nice little party in Williamsburg with a few underground acts coming through to hang out and spit a song or two. What are y’all getting into? Come out to the Rockstar Bar in Williamsburg. Just say my name at the door to get the friends and family discount. And if you see a nigga in the streets shout me on the TWitter – @FYMTG (Fux Yo’ Meeting!)


This Bud Isn’t For You…

Thursday, August 27th, 2009


Editor’s note: This drop has nothing to do with Jay-Z but I decided to use an image from the archive as opposed to uploading anything new from Budweiser.

Anheuser Busch and MillerCoors are pushing up the pricepoints for their brewed beverages.

When beer has gotten too expensive for my tastes I know I can always fall back on the bumwine classics.


Let’s be honest, it would take far too many Bud Lights to give me the buzz I need to fall asleep on a street corner in a pillow of my own puke.

I mean, what the fux you think I’m drinkin’ for?

To drink a fux’n bottle of Coors?!?