[Editor's Note: "Blogger's Note" has been taken over by Ron Mexico until futher notice.]
We’ll start today’s installment of “Negro Please” off with yet another exclusive from The Ghetto’s Finest News Source (WSHH).
I don’t know why I find a clip of Mike Jones getting popped in the nose such an amusing way to start my morning, but I am compelled to admit that I do.
Ugh. I got der Schadenfruede in my blood.
Mikey’s defiant rant includes details that don’t quite add up. He can’t get popped in the nose from the side–not having no scrunchy-ass nigger nose, anyway. A pointy, bony, pterodactylish Caucasoid nose might could get smashed in from the side, but not one of our rubbery-ass noses.
These African shits are built for war.
Was it from the side or from behind, anyway? I’m a little confused. I kept hearing both in the explanation.
Peep how the cop assures the Christopher Williams lookin’-ass Jones supporter:
“It’s okay, we know him.”
I’m sure that’s not a good look in the streets, where Jones promises to take his conflict with his assailant, Trae Da Truth. Put a pin in that. We’ll come back to it.
Those polices knew Mike Jones. Them niggas is from the Rick Ross Task Force.
What if Rick Ross is like the Nick Fury of the Hip-Hop Police? That would be kinda hot, son!
Jones keeps claiming he got stole on because he’s being hated on. Even by his own testimony of the events he was under the impression that the discussion was rapster lovey dove, as everything surrounding the TJ/DJ/HJ/ZJ Conference/Ozone Awards is intended to be.
I think the nigga just got set up and apparently caught a bad one.
[Blogger's Note: If you don't know what a "ZJ" is, you can't afford one.]
I only exclude hate as a motive for Trae’s attack because I don’t really see what there is to hate about Mike Jones. Nigga hit with a record and a half a couple of years ago, then wasted no time turning his life’s accomplishment into a Bentley (on swangers, nigga). Maybe he’s got another “Still Tippin’” in him, but he’ll be on Tito Jackson status until then.
Plus he look like a damn ninja turtle. I don’t know anybody in the game just wishing they could switch places with dude. Were I an aspiring rapster I’d be like “No disrespect intended, I’ll just take my chances, you know?”
It’s also no secret that Jones is universally regarded as the “Coolest Touchdown in the Rap Game,” a distinction he’s maintained since giving the entire unverse his cell phone number and actually answering/shooting the shit with callers at times.
So I hear…
Damn, I wish Mike would call me back.
*long pause for soft sobbing*
Man, Fuck Mike Jones! Put a pin in that. We’ll get back to it.
In all likelihood Trae probably just picked the nigga least likely to do shit. If I needed a publicity stunt to get my name out there, Mike Jones would be my target for damn sure. I’d survey the landscape like Larry ”D’Angelo Barksdale” Gillard, jr. in The Waterboy.
“There’s my bitch.”
Jones is like a chicken. By every indication natural selection has to offer, he was put on this earth to be hunted. Mike Jones handily leads the cascade of rapsters attenting the Ozone Awards in Attention Value/Risk Undertaken ratio.
Sorry to take some of you back to the part of high school where you decided you’d rather sell bud, but it’s simple mathematics. You gotta love it.
Sunffing Mike Jones + Camera = A lot of laughing motherfuckers + 0 dead motherfuckers.
You can try to steal on The Kidz In The Hall, but no one will really care. Try Bun B and everyone will notice, but something will probably happen. Punch Mike Jones in the mouth for whatever reason and 2,000 people will just point, laugh and text message their niggas.
If at this point you’re waiting for some retaliation in the form of that classic gangsta shit, please continue to hold your breath. We need less people like you breeding. Jones assured us nothing like that would ever happen–by voraciously insinuating that it would… by any means necessary.
Jonesey’s reaffirmation on the radio drives the nail into the horse’s head. Trae is officially SNA (Safetst Nigga Alive) du jour. A real G pretends he had no idea who snuck him (if that’s what really happened) and comes back on dude face-up ASAP.
Shit. I’ll throw a Molotov cocktail through ya mama’s mama’s window—whurr errbody live. I’m so sincerrre. This some sincere shit, right here.
“It’s gon’ get handled in the streets.”
Negro, please. Nigga Turtle-ass Mike Jones ain’t gon’ do shit. Need to drop and gimme 50 before anything.
I’m not even basing this on D-Solo’s self-etherization. When a fan tells you they want their money back, it’s obvious they didn’t exactly come to see your bum ass. Dude shouldn’t be proud of himself for motivating a mass of blented-up niggas. Any one of us could do that.
“Yeah. Yeah. Fuck Mike Jones! Nigga, we hawngry!”
Had he taken it one step further and offered the crowd free Popeye’s Chicken and Biscuits he could have spun himself a lynch mob.
What have we learned, children? When you assemble a convention of niggas together at a big niggafest in Houston niggas are gonna get to bein niggas. Newton wrote that shit somewhere. I’m sure of it.
We’ve also learned a couple of new twists on an age-old marketing strategy. If Trae finds success from this, it now officially makes sense for rappers to start stealing on softer rappers.
If D-Solo finds any misguided support for his movement, it now officially makes sense to bury a rapper by falsely promising him and starting a little anti-movement against him.
Eh, I guess those things have always made sense.
Questions? Comments? Requests? Still tippin on fo’-fo’s? Drop and give me 50. email@example.com
See what I did there? I put all of the Mike Jones songs that matter in life into one stanza.
P.S.: SDN Tournament Bracketology coming this week!