Negro Please: Bobby Brown Swagger Jacked By Usher
“I watched one of Usher’s shows and he basically did my whole show. It was as if it was me on stage. The thing about it is, I love seeing that. It’s a compliment to me as a performer . . . I think you take parts of whoever is the hottest act of that era and you incorporate that into your own style. It’s just like taking buttermilk, eggs and corn meal, you whip it up bake it and you have cornbread.” –Bobby Brown, Bobby Brown: The Truth and Nothing But The Truth…
You whip it up and you have cornbread? No Arm & Hammer? No slow simmer?
The Kang of R&B (rocks & blunts) gets the “Negro, Please” right off the bat for pretending he knows the recipe to anything other than that sweet base.
By the way, I think you taste egg and cinnamon.
Damn. Did this nigga really use cornbread as an example? He must have meant “yellowtops.” Anybody incorporating a part of Bobby into their routine gotta come away with at least a contact high.
Brain ain’t right from inhaling the work all my life. Fuck it.
If you didn’t know by Season 1 of “Being Bobby Brown” that you couldn’t take this man’s words seriously, I also read that he’s telling grown-ass people that Whitney [Houston] introduced him to coke. I’m gonna have to call bullshit on that one as I’m pretty sure Bobby introduced Len Bias to an 8-ball on draft night back in ‘86.
Maybe she introduced him to the good shit…
Moving back to Usher, I know exactly what happened here. Bob was gettin high in front of the TV, fell half-asleep on In The Mix and had an out-of-body experience. It happens to the best of us. That shit is on cable all the damn time.
Seriously, though. I could see where the confusion lies, Bobby. Usher’s mouth twists up just like yours whenever he fixes up to talk, right? I heard as recently as last month he was sleeping on Superhead’s couch too.
Usher may too be pussy-whipped by a crusty-foot, psycho wolf bitch. He also may very well know what Superhead’s beef jerky holster tastes like. But that’s where the similarities between the two pretty much end. Anything past that is calling Mr. Hiding in Hip-Hop a crack monster.
You can’t just go throwin that whole “dopefiend” thing around, Bobby. That’s a serious accusation.
By the way, Bob– When you say “the hottest act of that era,” do you mean George Michael? Michael Jackson had this one shit out called Bad that year too. Shit, Whitney was whippin on your ass before *ahem* she introduced you to cocaine.
I can’t speak for the rest of the country, but in Harlem we were fuckin with Teddy Riley and Keith Sweat hard body. Bobby Brown wasn’t the clear cut favorite for shit. Hottest spoon? Maybe. Clearest cut lines? Definitely.
This is what happens when you fuck around and let a crackhead tell it.
I’ll tell y’all what. I’ve seen both of these guys live. Usher was at the the Izod Center. Bobby Brown was sweating and doing spins in the parking lot trynna breathe on my date. There’s no comparison here. Bobby’s been little more than a subway dancer since he last tripped over Ralph Tresvant’s mic stand.
Last week my nigga Bol took it upon himself to outline to us that “Don’t Be Cruel > Urshurr’s entire catalog.” For once, someone agrees with homeboy. Usher doesn’t have an album that tight. Ursh used to, however, put on the best song-and-dance R&B show since Mike Jack.
He recently relinquished that prestige to T-Pain at the Hip-Hop Honors.
Bobby might need to start seeing himself in some of that.
Homie missed his chance to spring this shit on B2K a few years ago. Next thing you know people are gonna start saying Lil Wayne is baking his cornbread with Jay-Z’s huevos.
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P.S.: We might just have to go in double-time on his offspring behind what he said in them British tabloids. —Ron Mexico