“This n- [Kanye ] was like, ‘Wow. [Jay-Z] ain’t going to give me the chain,’” [Damon] Dash alleges in December’s Complex magazine. “I had to take off my chain and give it to him, and I was heated. I had the real canary diamonds. That s- cost $40,000! I told Kanye, ‘Yo, you got to give that back when we get off this stage!’”
Dash contends that after Jay-Z violated the code of hip-hop chivalry, “Kanye hated Jay-Z.”
But a rep for Kanye tells us the story is “ridiculous and totally false.” -New York Daily News
Damn, Dash. It must be pretty cold and lonely on the way down. At least he’s got a Dirt Angel to keep warm with.
I know withdrawal must be all kinds of ugly for a cake-a-holic, but you’ve got to stay strong, brother. The shakes only persist for a little while. I can’t throw too many stones, as I’ve never walked a mile in Dash’s Pro-Keds, but I’d be wiggin out too if contestants from The Ultimate Hustler were suddenly shining brighter than I was. The fact that Dame even pursed his lips to address any of this personal, wholly irrelevant shit indicates that homie may be “a Better Burger kind of nigga” after all.
Dame Diddy might wanna watch his back. Kanye is throwing cameras and slapping the shit out of people for less.
This entire “Kanye hates Jay-Z” bitchfest reeks of Wendy Williams. Maybe Dash should have taken the drama there first if he wanted that good, national exposure. Depending on the ticket revenue generated, it’s probably a better idea than producing Jim Jones’ Beacon Theater hopeful, “Mama, I Want To Shower.”
Seriously. As I told my homegirl Portia, they should have gone full-on Stephanie Mills/Al Jarreau/Clifton Powell/Peabo Bryson with that one. Why half-ass it?
Oh, right. Dame’s broke. Nevermind. Too bad. I’d really love to hear Jennifer Holliday and Howard Hewitt go in on “We Fly High.”
Maybe Cousin Stacey could let him hold somethin until the next get-rich-slow scheme manifests itself.
People may have actually gone for this bullshit if Kanye hadn’t just gotten done proclaiming that he’d jump in front of a fucking bus for Jay with “Big Brother.” That song has all the dickriding of an entire Game album stuffed into 5 minutes–and concentrating on one lollipop.
Also, who’s going to believe Dame when G-UNOT KILLA is so heavy in the streets? Homeboy long since set the record straight about “Step in the Name of Crip Love” and the studio slapping incident. Clearly this shit has nothing to do with a chain as Dame implies.
Who knew in 2003 that Dame would one day need them canary blood diamonds back so that he could liquidate them to keep the heat on?
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…and you still can’t knock the hustle.