Category Archives: Take them rhymes back to the factory

3 Stacks sets my body aflame

by awesomely and cordially denying Kid Cudi’s request for a COLLAB!
“HA-HA!” – Nelson Muntz.

In typical ALL CAPS fashion on his MySpace blog, Kid’s all:

I ONLY HAVE 3 FEATURES FOR MY ALBUM WHICH IS MY BIG HOMIE SNOOP, KANYE AND COMMON*. THE OTHER 2 ARTISTS I ASKED SO FAR TO BE ON MY ALBUM: LILY ALLEN AND ANDRE 3000, HAVE DECLINED MY REQUEST FOR A COLLAB. IT MADE ME REALIZE THO, DO I REALLY WANNA GO IN ON FEATURES? SURE I LIKE THESE ARTISTS BUT THIS FIRST ALBUM NEEDS TO BE ABOUT WUT I CAN DO.

*People on your own label don’t count. Nice try, buddy.

So Cudi’s all, “Dear Mr. Benjamin, I’ve been rappin for about 18 months now and I must say that the Idlewild soundtrack had a huge influence on me. Have you done any other albums? And would you please put in a hot guest appearance on one of my tracks? PACE.”

And Dre’s all, “Ummm, I’m busy that day. And yes, the fact that you wear your OWN NAME on your gear has influenced my decision. Also, the word is spelled ‘WHAT.’ Now please excuse me, as I have to go for a ride in my spaceship and get back to being weird and spacey and swelteringly amazing. Word is bond like Super Glue. OH YAY-ERRR.”

Things I will not be doing: 04/20/09

Dre, Eskay, et al., I’ll thank you to keep your album-buying tips to yourself. I do, in fact, realize that I can buy this hideous Earthling’s album since this news has been all over the hip hoppy blogosphere for ohhhh the last 3 months.

Other things I can do but never, ever will:

send Sean Hannity naked pictures of myself,
start dating a law enforcement officer,
get rid of all the coke raps in my collection,
believe the hype,
become one of those awful Ron Paul fanatics,
start watching hockey,
calm down re: music, music history, musicians,
etc,
etc.

Jim Jones needs a nap, a bottle, and his blankie


OMG they made a movie about that incredibly talentless Harlem rapper who can’t rap and nobody told me! Thanks a lot, jerks.

What we have here is a story about boys fighting and then each taking their toys and going home and not inviting each other to their big birthday party next week…in-fighting among dudes over the age of 10 is all so ridiculously stupid but the comedy factor just keeps pulling me back in and I cannot turn away. I guess I just didn’t realize that holding Capo status means concerning yourself with a whole lot of bitchery and grown-man-crybabyishness. However, I now see that it’s part of the code. Ballinnnnnnn!

In his new, full-length documentary, This Is Jim Jones (directed by Carly Carol), the 33-year-old Harlemite gives fans a rare glimpse into his life of glaring extremes; an existence punctuated by its star’s perennial underdog status.

Chapter 4 breaks down Dipset’s tenuous relationship with Rocafella’s kingpin, Jay-Z.

In the film’s climactic moment (LOL–Dipset and the word “climactic” shouldn’t ever be in the same vicinity cuz it just don’t make sense), the story (from Jim’s point of view) behind Cam’s megahit “Oh Boy” is told. The “Oh Boy” beat (by Just Blaze) was allegedly intended for Jay-Z, and the “H to the Izzo” beat (by Kanye West) was originally bought by Cam’ron. According to the film, Kanye backtracked and gave his beat to Jay. Cam’ron then took the “Oh Boy” beat and murdered it (with Juelz), so Jay decided to jump on it with a feature. Cam heard Jay’s verse, deemed it wack, and made sure it didn’t see the light of day. According to Dame Dash, Jay then made moves to separate himself from his Harlem label affiliates (in addition to allegedly not letting them put their records out and not signing off on their budgets).

Jim Jones: Fucking Kanye. Sells us a few beats. We watching the BET Awards, Jay-Z is about to perform his new single. He gets up there and it’s the beat that we bought from Kanye. That would be H-To-The-Izzo. So now we’re steaming. Just Blaze had the beats laying around−that was Jay’s beat−Cam says “shut the fuck up, we taking it.” And he blazed the Just Blaze beat. That was ours. Strong armed. Good looking Just Blaze.

– Link


The Nobody Cares Report: Ash edition


Oh Ash, your simple words just don’t move me.

I didn’t think I could possibly hate you with any more heat of a thousand white-hot suns,
and then I saw this picture and it destroyed my retinas (retinae?).
There are about 18 THOUSAND things I find upsetting about this photograph.
Disappear…vamoose…you’re wack to me.

Feud/Not A Feud


Feud:
BDP. The Juice Crew.


You love to hear the story, again and again
Of how it all got started way back when.

South Bronx/the South South Bronx.

Th-the-th-bridge.

So you think that hip-hop had its start out in Queensbridge.
If you popped that junk up in the Bronx you might not live.


As odd as it looked, as wild as it seemed/I didn’t hear a peep from a place called Queens.

Bronx keeps creatin it and Queens keeps on fakin it.

Kill that/kill that noise.


Not a feud: Officer Rick. Curtis.


Being the authority on hip-hop-related beef is truly an honor. I’d like to thank the Academy.

Swagger Jack! Code Red!!

ASHER ROTH IS A PROBLEM FOR ME.


Ash, I liked you the first time I heard your suburban steez, when you were on my television and your name was John Brown. One of you in the universe is plenty so umm, please see yourself out. It’s not fresh and/or irreverent cuz you know I seen a hundred you’s at the Short Stop. You are an archetype within every major metropolitan area, including this one. There’s 2 or 3 of you whenever I walk down Fairfax, and at least 6 of you whenever I go out to an establishment where alcoholic beverages are served. You normally go out with your boys on Friday, but for some reason you’re there on a Tuesday and you come up to me when I’m at the bar and look at my frame and I tell you I have a boyfriend even though I really do not just so you will please stop. (Oh, also, I don’t have a cell phone. And ummm…I’m just visiting from out of town). You’re so psyched on your pants & shoes & bachelor’s degree & smirk. Good job buddy, you found Undefeated and you know all the words to “Tried By Twelve.”


Fall back, Morrisville. You know what, I loved college too–mostly cuz you weren’t there with me.


For some reason I find this human next-levels-of-next-level annoying, like he personally borrowed my Portishead at Roseland vinyl and never returned it.
And Steve Rifkind, you should be ashamed of yourself, sir.