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Fredro’s Industry Tales: Shynin’

Hmm. That’s weird. I thought gangsta niggas told no tales. Yet, we embark on the new straight-to-Worldstar journey that is ‘Dro Starr’s Reefer Rambles. I think that’s what he’s calling it. I’m not too sure.

The inaugural dry snitch is a timely one. As Shyne is released from prison, Fredro Starr finds it appropriate to discuss what he saw that fateful night in 2000 or 2001 when Shyne got New York’s Finest Escort Service to take him from Club New York laced up in shiny new bracelets.

[Blogger’s Note: Is it dry snitching if you do it on wet? I know. Some Confucian shit, right?]

I gather that after he bodysurfs into the club, Starr goes into CSI mode and scans the crowd instead of partying. Fortunately for us, he was on Bad Boy assignment. He says Black Rob is his nigga, which explains a lot, as the rest of Old Dro’s account comes from a very cloudy, sherm stick-esque perspective.

Mind you, by his own account Starr is high as fuck while whale watching Puffy & co. But, of course, he “ain’t payin them niggas no mind and shit.” He just knows that the Bad Boy table is fucked up on identifiable drugs, dancing on tables, popping bottles, wearing wardrobe stolen from the set of Dead Presidents and getting security escorts to the lavatory.

Such a testimony could have been useful to The People vs. Barrow/Combs prosecutions like 10 years ago. I’m sure Starr’s account is exactly what Shyne needs circulating while he’s fighting for his ability to come back to US.

Be sure to tune in next week when Fredro Starr discusses his satanic possession. The preview sounds like the account of a bad drug trip. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if all of these strange tales and accounts start with Q, I mean, Shorty Du-Wop, I mean, Fredro getting fucked the fuck up on MTW.

[Blogger’s Note: More than weed. Got rid of that dirt for them.]

Questions? Comments? Requests? Let all the Live Niguz in?

Fuck what Fredro said. I don’t know where this whole, “the party doesn’t end with gunshots” shit comes from. The party is all the way over when niggas shoot the club up. You need to get the fuck outta there. No, instead it’s, “I was like, let’s get the fuck outta here. But, let’s hang around long enough to see if the police ask us questions.”

These niggas used to be my favorite rap group, but… Onyx shit been suspect for some time now.

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