Past couple of days have been rough for a blogger. One of my mentors is having a rough time in his year long fight against cancer. That shit is not a joke. Seeing the prospects of losing one of your loved ones is a rough thing. Still, you cats here already let me know you don’t give an eff about what goes down in my personal life. That’s more along the lines of what I do at the Daily Math. Don’t worry yo, I might be distracted by some things going down in my life, but Combat Jack always stays staying focused.
Being that this is the season to be jolly, it’s time to get into the mood. Any of you’s in the mood yet? What a year it’s been. In my opinion, it’s been a great year for rap music. Especially since you can’t pay cats to buy records no more. There was more joints that dropped this year that I was interested in hearing than I’ve been in a long time. And I’ve been listening to rap for a long time. Still, there’s always room for improvement. You might know about a post I dropped recently over at my site, about something I wanted for Christmas, a full blown Jay-Z/50 Cent beef. I’m kinda off that now though. Cause it doesn’t look like that might ever happen. Cause Jay-Z thinks he’s Jesus Christ. Still, I’ve got interviews like this to keep me entertained.
I went ahead and jotted down some other things I wanted on my Rap Christmas wish list. Just because I’ve been a good cat for most of 2009. Like staying on top of my A game kinda good. Who knows, Santa might have been paying attention and might bless me by dropping a few of these requests down my chimney. [||]. Maybe there’s some things on my list that you might be wishing for too.
1. No More Celebrity Fragrances – Diddy, 5O, Jay-Z, Ursher, Cam’ron, wtf? Shits kinda getting outta hand when every Tom, Dick and rapper start pushing the smell goods. I’m not against entertainers opening their market up, this is America, still overkill is never a good thing. Imagine what kinda problems Gucci Mane’ll have if he ever tries to push bottles. And trust that the minute cats like Plies and Titty Boi drop scents, I might have to go back to rocking pachouli scented oils like my head wrapped incense burning brethren. Anyone giving me a bottle of “Power” this Christmas might end up getting said bottle cracked up against they foreheads.
2. More [||] on Paper, less Pause and No Homo – A few years back, the term “no homo” was all the rage whenever a questionable act or a thought provoking phrase illiciting gay related responses in humorous tones was uttered. “No Homo” was funny, but was an obvious affront to members of the homosexual community. Moving for a more PC and less offensive word, we opted for the more clever “Pause”. Pause is slick, everyone gets it, even the casual sportscaster on tv might drop it whenever Spike Lee spazzes out about how much he likes Dick. [||]. There’s no way around the spoken use of Pause, but a couple of years ago, an ingenious blogger proposed that the Hip Hop nation advance with the times. Suggesting we move to the symbol [||], like how said symbol stands for pause on any household audio visual device, [||] is clean, sleek, efficient, universal. Easy. less characters. Some folk might not appreciate [||] as a stocking stuffer, [||] but I’m ready to see more [||] for Christmas.
3. No More Rap/ Sanga/ Athelete Incarcerations – Is there a demographic that exists that stays getting arrested more than Black entertainers? I mean other than Black men. We stay getting locked up by the boat loads. These past few years have seen the rate of our most loved and admired getting locked up jump at alarming rates. Like an epidemic even. What part of entertainment is that? I’m sure at some point, ALL of us have rode dirty. We get stopped by 5-0 for whatever, but you can best be sure we don’t stay getting arrested the way our most famous do. Even our most beloved Internet Celebrity Dallas Penn stays having his brushes with Johnny Law. Shows you how big time he’s become. Hollywood even. Anyways, entertainers treat getting locked up like that’s some kind of fly. All that money, all them lawyers and accountants and weed carriers and ni@@as still end up doing mad time. It don’t make no types of sense. Somehow I don’t think it’s good for the artform, nor do I think it’s a good example to set for the lil dun dunns, the kids that look up to our entertainers like they was role models or something. Being locked up with a buncha menses is never cool. And if some of ya’ll feel it’s some kind of conspiracy against successful Black personalities, well all the more reason to stay as clean as possible, no? For real, let’s cut that shit out. Touchers like Pleasure P need to be locked up with the quickness though. I got kids.
4. Dead All That Lil’ This and Yung That – This has already been covered several times. I’ma let Masta Ace and Edo G tell it:
5. At Least One Dope Female Emcee – Where the eff is the female emcees at? Not that I was ever a true fan of female rappers, I’m rap chauvinistic like that. Still, mad chicks had me respecting their spit game throughout the history of this rap thing. Female rappers worked damned hard to leave a legacy of queen spit kickers, from Latifah and MC Lyte, to the Salt -N- Pepa’s and the Yo Yo’s. Even sex kittens Lil’ Kim and Foxy Brown was able to bang with the best of em whilst at the same time selling sex. Regardless of whether Big or Jay wrote their raps. They were still good. I know the industry has regressed to the point that a kewpie doll like Nicky Minaj is being passed as that next one. Come on son. As far as I’m concerned, the best chick spitter out today stays being Jean Grae, but for some reason or another (Madd Rapper voice) “they, they, they just not recognizing.” I love this rap shit to death, but trust things start looking suspect when there’s no effin females in the game. No respectable ones that a blogger could at least have a secret rap crush on. Like how I used to have a major crush for Sweet Tee. Now that was one purty ass non masculine looking female rapper. The North Pole needs to come up off them chick rappers for 2010.
6. One More Dope Mos Def Album – Like I said on my site “ever since he dropped the classic “Black On Both Sides” album way back when, dude has refused to deliver a full album containing nothing but that top shelf spittage he’s more than capable of easily hock tooing.” I know how some of ya’ll nut [||] at the mention of “The Ecstatic”. Meh. Too much sanging, not enough rap from that rapper cat for this rapper fan. I’m old school like that. Plus partial to Brooklyn emcees, so maybe I’m being way to critical of Flaco. I’m a patient dude too, so much so that I’m still hoping that Santa might could want to sprinkle some Elf dust in the studio so that Dante’s next album is nothing less than him rapping the way he raps best. Pure fires. All I’m asking for is one more classic. Cause I know he has it in him.
7. More Blog Beefs – With top rappers now refusing to go head to head on wax, [||] the next best entertaining thing on the nets has been blog beefs. It’s like the new white meat. From Necole Bitchie vs. Sandra Rose, to me vs. Peter Rosenberg to Byron Crawford vs. Nah Right, Rap Radar, Peter Rosenberg and …. the rest of the blogosphere, 2009 saw a much welcomed rise in blog beefs. Lets be real, the people want blood. Drives ‘em nutso. I’m all about giving the people what they want. Any of you bloggers out there want it?
8. Less E-Thuggery – Blog beef is healthy, e-thuggery is corny. Seems like the more we rely on communicating via the net, the bolder some cats get, hiding behind them keyboards. So many fake lames seem so comfortable making all types of threats of bringing heat and bodily harm to so and so. Yeah right. Most cats making them threats is making them from their schools’ library, or from they mommas house. Most them cats talking that kakaa these days ain’t never even had a fight in their life, other than the ones they had on X-box and Playstation. That shit is real funny since the real goonish killer type cats I know don’t even know how to use computers. So yeah, I’m hoping that I get less e-thuggery this Kwanzaa.
9. No more BET Awards show of any types – If we don’t know by now that BET and “good award show” don’t go together, then we’re most def riding strong in the back of the short bus. Them shows stay being a bastion of Black ig’nance, televised for all the world to see. Effin disgrace how we’re playing type to the media.
Actually, I’m lying about this one. Every BET Award show I’ve ever seen has been nothing but straight comedy. With the advent of Twitter, the jokes keep on coming. Shits gotten so bad funny that maybe we need a gang’a more BET Award shows, like one for every effin day of the week. BET’s Soul Wednesday’s Award would be guaranteed shits and giggles.
10. No Rappers/ Sangas/ Atheletes Getting Shot, Stabbed Up, Robbed and Kilt – I’m lighting the Menorah for this one. This whole shebang is about sex drugs and rock and roll. Blood shed murder kill, not so much. If we want tragedy and all that heartbreaking drama, stay the eff in the hoods and quit winning to fail. I may not like all of yous, but I do respect ya’ll. All of our lives is something that needs to be honored and protected with dignity. Death ain’t never entertaining. This holiday season, I’m praying Black Santa keeps each and every one of us way the eff outta harm’s way.
BONUS GIFT: Less Hating On Skinny Jeans and Ass Saggers – Just cause I don’t eff with sagging and cats rocking skinny jeans (except for them Ninjasonik cats) don’t mean I gotta hate on those that do. Hating on what other folk do is so tired, so much so that I’m hoping fat boy’s reindeer carry that hating shit the fuck outta here. We need to be off that. If these fools wanna squeeze the life bloods outta they knuttsacks and parade they candy asses around the globe like it was fashion day on Mo Mountain, then let ‘em. [||]. Instead of focusing on what they do, there’s bigger shit out there for us to focus on, like global warming, like the economy and how certain resumes ain’t worth the paper it’s printed on, and like us all making sure rappers keep spitting ‘moore hot fiyah for 2010. So for Christmas, let’s leave them yung’uns be.