Shit, am I glad I didn’t take my yellow ass out to Killah Cali to witness the madness. Brawlin’ at brunch? What part of the game is that? What if the wife and I were chompin’ on some croissants talking to ole girl about our favorite episode of 21 Jump Street? We could have caught some bows in the crossfire! Damn, aren’t the Southern dudes supposed to get along? What’s T.I. and Ludacris’ camps still beefing about now? Ask any 16-year-old across this cotton-picking country, Weezy F. Baby rules the world, patna. We just live in it.
Shout out to my dude Mr. Slim a.k.a. Kevin “You Know I Miss Def Jam, It’s True” Liles, I know he works hard to avoid all the coonery and buffoonery at such a bougie affair. You know the old wise industry man knows not to invite his employee Jim Jones to a place where he’s gonna see his buddy Jay-Z. But then Kevy-Kev must have invited T.I. to the function and that crazy-ass nigga T.I.P. showed up. (I know. I know. We’re all sick of this split personality shit.)
In fact, I just illegally downloaded a copy of T.I. vs. T.I.P. (I’ll still cop it the Tues it drops, kids. Do as I say and do as I do.) and I’ve already put together my sequence that avoids all the conceptual ca-ca. In retrospect, I just feel like Clifford wanted to make a T.I.P. album and the label made him throw in a couple of cheesy T.I. tunes to avoid alienating his female fan base. Ladies cop this disc, if you love hip-hop and shorty the pimp’s sexy ass. (Calm down no-homo pausers, I was speaking to the opposite sex.)
Lord knows, Chaka Zulu has made me mad enough in the past to wanna… you know. (YN and DTP’s history has been well-documented. Do ya research.) But still the man who calls himself K-I-N-G was D-E-A-D and add a wrong to that. Even if Luda’s dark-skinded moneyman said some slick shit, that wasn’t the time and sure in hell wasn’t the place. You coulda caught the nigga later at post-BET awards after party. That’s where you shoot, stab, kill niggas. Rush the security!
That’s right, your eyes are not deceiving you the best rap blogger alive is back. At least until I run out of shit to share or just don’t have time to put something up. So enjoy me, as long I’m here cause I tend to work in streaks and all this fight club shit may have relit the match. I told eskay, I’m tired of censoring Bol behind the scenes. Put me in Coach, I’m ready to play. There’s big shit poppin’ that y’all little comments ain’t stoppin’.