HANNAH AND HER SISTERS

TO: HIT A U-TURN, DROPPING HER BACK HOME
FROM: THE SPORTSWRITER
RE: THE GREAT SUBURBAN SHOWDOWN IN THE SKY

KIMORA: So, look, it was what it was. And because of that I'm willing to let it off the leash a little.

TYRA: Take it for a walk, Bitch!

KIMORA: Right!? But don't tell me that shit isn't self-indulgent. If I want to watch an hour of new-money, mid-life suburban malaise...I'LL TURN MY FUCKING SECURITY CAMERA ON! Okay!? Staring at a lake? It's called Independence Day! I read that shit in hardcover. Watching a bunch of peolple play Monopoly?! I'm busy! Child-labor scandals, marriage shit the bed, Djimon Hounsou keeping me pigeon-toed.

TYRA: The. Collected. Stories. Of. John. Cheever.

KIMORA: POST-WAR AMERICAN LIT. Hit the Learning Annex!

BEYONCE: I thought it was...fluid.

KIMORA: You read that on a blog!? Look, these things end...

TYRA: Life, love, art...

KIMORA: That's what I'm saying! Who doesn't run out of things to say!? I mean, look at rap; how long can you do that shit for before you become irrel-

TYRA: [LOUD COUGHING] Is it just my anti-psychotics talking, or is Eddy Curry LOOKING. GOOD.

KIMORA: What did I tell you about dating post-players.

BEYONCE: How you doing, Baby?

JAY: Hmm?

TYRA: Jay, you having a good time, Honey?

KIMORA: Is somebody a little borrrred?

JAY: Heh [SIGH]...Actually, you know, I'm gonna bounce...

BEYONCE: Baby!

TYRA: Uh-oh! Somebody's a cranky pants!

JAY: Yeahhhhno. Um, nah...just...I just got this text from Fab, he...um, needs me for something in the studio...

KIMORA: Who's that again?

TYRA: Oh, bitch don't even play: "I'm tryna get in and out of your room/ Just to get/ IN AND OUT OF YOUR WOMB" [hi-five]

BEYONCE: Baby, I thought you said you were shunning him?

JAY: Well, it's not really him...I mean, it's his session, but Just needs me to re-wire someth....He needs me to check something in his shared drive for Pro Too...I gotta go.

BEYONCE: I'm gonna see you later, right?

JAY:...

JAY:...

BEYONCE: Shawn?

JAY: [exhale] A...ffirmative.

[JAY stares at Steve Francis for a moment]

BEYONCE: I need more organic honey.

JAY: I'll tell Bleek. Ladies...

TYRA & KIMORA: Auf Wiedersehen/Ciao....

[fin]

RELEASE WHAT'S IN ME

TO: TRIBECA CO-OP CONDO HALLWAY LOITERER
FROM: WITNESS FROM HIS FOLKS PAD
RE: THE THINGS WE CARRY

















Dame (l) and Biggs (r), Big Pimpin video shoot, 2000


REMEMBER WHEN BIGGS' DOG PISSED ON YOUR MAN'S LEG? I THINK THAT WAS RUDY. HOLY FUCKING FLYING LOL'S! AND REMEMBER WHEN VALENCIA'S BOYFRIEND HAD YOU MAKING MOVES!? THAT IS WHAT WE CALL A WATERSHED MOMENT, DOMENICA! AW SHIT, I'LL TAKE IT THERE: REMEMBER WHEN HIP-HOP DIDN'T HAVE NO MOTHERFUCKING SEAT ON HIS BICYCLE!? THE FUCKING HUMANITY!

MAN, FUCK A BAHAMAVENTION. WHEN US "30-IS-THE-NEW-20" KIDS NEED CALGON TO TAKE US AWAY WE STAYS ON GOLDEN POND! IN 20 YEARS WE'LL PROBABLY BE LIVING IN THE BIGGEST PROVINCE IN CHINA, BUT WE'LL ALWAYS HAVE OUR MEMORIES! UNTIL WE DON'T! FEEL ME!?

FUCK IT. LET'S CANDY-PAINT THE SLED A NICE SEPIA-TONE. CHECK THE RHIME, ANCIENT MARINER: THE OTHER DAY I WAS -- AS WHITE FOLKS ARE PRONE TO DO FROM TIME TO TIME -- LISTENING TO TRIBE.


















I THINK PEOPLE THINK THAT PEOPLE LISTEN TO TRIBE BECAUSE IT INCUBATES SOME LONG-LOST NOTIONS OF A LIFE MORE BOHEMIAN. ROCKING JEAN SHORTS AND CROSS COLORS. BACKPACKS WHEN BACKPACKS WERE BACKPACKS. PRETENDING TO LISTEN LEE MORGAN ALBUMS.

BUT I SMOKED THOSE LEE MORGAN ALBUMS, DUKE. WORD TO GATOR PURIFY.













MAMA, I'M SO SORRY. I DIDN'T LEAVE MY WALLET ANYWHERE. I GO BACK BECAUSE THOSE DUDES WERE MORE OR LESS THE SAME AGE AS ME, MAKING MUSIC ABOUT MORE OR LESS THE KIND OF LIFE I WAS LEADING (GIRLS, TROUBLE, BOREDOM: MIDDLE CLASS WHITE BOY DIVISION). HOW BOUT THAT SYNERGY!?

THERE'S LOTSA WAYS TO TAKE IT BACK. OUT ON THE ROAD TODAY, I SAW A MURDER INC. STICKER ON AN ESCALADE. FOR A SPLIT SECOND I STOPPED THINKING ABOUT YAO MING'S BURGEONING MUSTACHE AND THREE WORDS CAME TO MIND: "POV" "CITY" "ANTHEM."




SO THERE'S THAT. THE FLASH IN THE BRAIN PAN TYPE SHIT.

BUT MAKING A MOTHERFUCKER NOSTALGIC AND MAKING A MOTHERFUCKER PAY ATTENTION ISN'T THE SAME THING.

IT DOESN'T COME FROM RATTLING OFF THE CONTENTS OF A FUCKING TIME CAPSULE. LAKIM SHABBAZZ, DOOKIE CHAINS, DECEPTICONS! LA GEARS, GARBAGE PAIL KIDS, T-SHIRTS WHERE THE BASKETBALL PLAYERS HAD SMALL BODIES AND BIG ASS HEADS, FLUFFY COKE! WHATEVER!

I THINK YOU ONLY GET A SMALL WINDOW OF TIME WHERE YOU CAN RE-CAPTURE A LOST MOMENT. WHEN YOU START, YOUR RHYMEBOOK IS A SLAVE TO YOUR WORLD. YOU'RE TRYING TO MAKE IT ALL FIT. YOU'RE TRYING TO GET YOUR BONA FIDES RIGHT.

BUT THEN GOD (OR WHATEVER) MAYBE GRANTS YOU A MOMENT OF CLARITY. A POINT WHEN YOU'RE CLOSE ENOUGH TO YOUR TRAINING DAYS TO REMEMBER DETAILS BUT FAR ENOUGH AWAY NOT TO CHANGE THEM TO FIT YOUR PERSONA...

WHEN AVENUES HAD THE WHOLE TERRITORY. BILLY HAD THE RED BENZ DOOR OPEN.



PUSHING THROUGH THE PARK EVEN THOUGH IT'S DARK.

WATCHING CEILING FANS GO AROUND. TRYING TO CATCH A FEELING. THE 86 ON THE WAY TO DECATUR.

YOU CAN UNDERSTAND WHY I'M IN REWIND-MODE, RIGHT? COME ON, BILLY BEANE! YOU SIGNED NAS! THAT KID IS NOSTALGIC FOR COOKING CLASSES KELIS HASN'T EVEN MADE HIM TAKE YET!

BUT YOU KNOW WHAT THE MAYOR OF MEMORY LANE UNDERSTANDS? THE TRUTH IS IN WHAT HAPPENED, HOW IT HAPPENED; NOT HOW IT FELT, NOT HOW IT FEELS.

THE ART OF STORYTELLING OR MEMOIRS IN BARS. WHAT'S THE FUCKING DIFFERENCE? YOU CAN'T POSSIBLY REMEMBER HOW SOMETHING FELT AT THE TIME BECAUSE FEELINGS, WHATEVER THE FUCK THOSE ARE, ARE FLUID. YOU CAN CON ME WITH THAT. I'M A SUCKER.

BUT THERE'S A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN TRUE STORIES AND TRUE STORYTELLING. AND PEOPLE CAN SNIFF OUT HOW MUCH YOU STEP ON THAT SHIT.

NASIR KNEW HOW TO LISTEN. HE KNEW HOW TO WATCH. PEEP THE JEWELS; EVEN BETTER THAN GOLD.

TANISHA HAD A BLONDE CEASAR. SHE SPORTED VITTADINI. SHE TALKED TO THE IRISH D THEY CALLED RAMBO WHO KEPT HER IN A HAZE. SHE STARTED TO DISSOLVE LIKE COTTON CANDY IN A STARVING MOUTH. THEY BOTH DIED WITH THE SHADES DRAWN.





THE STREETS WERE BLOCKED OFF FOR THE BLOCK PARTY. GAMBLING IN THE BACK. FRANK PULLED FIRST. KILLA LET OFF. FRANK CAME BACK WITH MUSCLE, THE GUN SLINGER, PIERRE. HE CAUGHT ONE AND DIED FROM INTERNAL BLEEDING.

HOW IT HAPPENED? WHAT HE SAW? DOESN'T MATTER. BUT THE ONLY FEELING HE TALKS ABOUT IS THE ONE HE FELT IN THE AIR.

I REMEMBER LIZ GOLD'S HAND GOING DOWN THE FRONT OF MY BUGLE BOYS AT SOME CHICK'S BAT MITVAH. I REMEMBER DROPPING A THROW TO THE PLATE AND FAKING A KNEE INJURY WHEN SOME FUCKER FROM GERMANTOWN WENT CHARLIE HUSTLE INTO HOME. I REMEMBER MARNIE PALIGOW'S FACE WHEN SHE SAW ME CHEATING OFF HER CHEM MIDTERM. SHE HAD ACNE. IT WAS PROBABLY THE FIRST TIME I PAID ANY ATTENTION TO HER IN 4 YEARS.

I REMEMBER OUR PRINCIPAL TELLING US NOT TO GO THE GALLERY OR SPACEPORT WHEN THE RODNEY KING VERDICT WAS HANDED DOWN. SHE TOLD US TO GO HOME. IT MEANT SOMETHING DIFFERENT TO ME THAN IT DID TO MY FRIENDS.

I REMEMBER THAT MONDAY. WILSON GOODE BOMBED THE M.O.V.E. HOUSE. I WAS JUST A KID. I KNEW OTHERS WHO HAD TO EVACUATE THEIR HOUSES. I WATCHED IT FROM ACROSS THE SCHUYLKILL RIVER. MAYBE IT'S EASIER TO REMEMBER WHEN YOU EXPERIENCED IT FROM A DISTANCE.




WATCHING FROM WINDOWS MAKES IT EASY TO REMEMBER.





OH, YOU? I GUESS YOU PUT IT IN ORDER. YOU ALWAYS DO. OTHERWISE IT'S TOO MUCH, RIGHT?

PEOPLE: ANNIE DRESSED YOU. ERIC MADE YOU TOUGH.

PLACES: MARCY RAISED YOU. EAST TRENTON GREW YOU.

THE THINGS THAT SURROUNDED YOU: FAMILY, DRUGS, WORDS, CASH.

HOW IT FELT? ONLY YOU COULD POSSIBLY KNOW. UNDERNEATH IT ALL, I THINK AT SOME POINT, YOU HAD TO CHOOSE AMONGST THEM. THIS IS THE ONLY WAY YOU CAN SAY IT.

EVEN THE COPS IN THE PLAIN CLOTHES SAID I CRUSHED IT

TO: SPANISH JOSE INTRODUCED YOU TO CAINE
FROM: NEVER DID NOTHING TO NOBODY BUT THOSE BOYS SHOT HIM
RE: USED CARS
























"I'm trying to see that Slum Village Dodge paper, Son! Get Low!"


BROTHERMAN, I HAVE NO IDEA HOW OLD THIS SHIT IS. BLEEK, MOP, FREE, PEEDI, AND YOUNG FUCKING CHRIS ("SIGNED FOR THE LAST THREE SUMMERS AND STILL BROKE BITCH"- 2004). WITH THAT SQUAD IT COULD BE ANYTIME THIS FUCKING DECADE RIGHT? I MEAN IF THIS SHIT WAS HIGH SCHOOL AND YOU SAW THAT CREW SITTING AT A TABLE IN CAFETERIA, YOU'D PROBABLY STARE DOWN AT YOUR JELLO AND WALK ON BY, ACTING LIKE YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW YOUR OLD RUNNING MATES, LEAVING THEM BEHIND TO TAKE SHOP CLASS WHILE YOU AND B. CHAIR THE PROM COMMITTEE.

OR WHATEVER.

OK. THERE'S A LINE IN THERE WHERE BLEEK IS FLOSSING ABOUT SITTING IN AN '04 COUPE WITH NO ROOF. A THREE YEAR OLD WHIP. 2004.

I ROLLED BY BASSLINE TO CHECK THE BIRFDAY OF THESE TAPES, OF THIS MONSTER MEETING OF THE RHYMES. I CAUGHT THE FOLLOWING EXCHANGE:

BLEEK: BROWWWWWWNSVILLE! WHAT'S UP, FAM! IT'S BEEN TOO LONG!

DANZE: UH-HUH.

FAME: [stares beams of pure white hot hatred]

BLEEK: WE GONNA MURDER THIS SHIT! I GOT THIS RHYME, DOG. LEMME JUST GIVE YOU AN APPETIZER, "I GOT THE '08 COUPE WITH NO ROOF!"


DANZE: HOW YOU GONNA HAVE AN '08 COUPE, DIPSHIT?

FAME: YEAH, DR. WHO. HOW'S THE FUCKING FUTURE LOOKING? WE GOT AN ALBUM OUT YET?

BLEEK: I DON'T KNOW MY DAMN SELF! HOV BROKE ME OFF WITH ONE. IT STILL HAS THAT NEW CAR SMELL.

DANZE: HOV, HUH? YOU STILL CARRY THAT D-BAG'S MAN PURSE?

BLEEK: HE'S MY BENEFACTOR!

DANZE: YOU KNOW HOW THAT SHIT PLAYED OUT FOR US RIGHT?

BLEEK: THAT WASN'T A GOOD LOOK, MAN.

DANZE: IT WASN'T EVEN A GLIMPSE.

BLEEK: WORD.

FAME: WHAT?!

BLEEK: NO! I'M AGREEING! I AGREE!

DANZE: SO LOOKA HERE, COUSIN. YOU EVER HEARD OF REPARATIONS?

BLEEK: YEAH! KIND OF! WELL, I WENT BY RUSSELL SIMMONS' THE OTHER WEEK TO PICK UP SOME BOOK FOR PRESIDENT CARTER -- SEVEN HABITS OF HIGHLY EFFECTIVE PEOPLE? OR DEFECTIVE PEOPLE? ONE OR THE OTHER...

FAME: YOU GET 20 MORE SECONDS TO SPEAK THEN I'M GOING TO TEAR YOUR SPINE OUT YOUR BACK LIKE PREDATOR DID THAT INDIAN DUDE.

BLEEK: WELL, HE WAS LIKE, "REPARATIONSREPARATIONS." I WAS THINKING OF THEM BARS THOUGH! NAHMEAN!? SO I DON'T REMEMBER WHAT HE WAS ON ABOUT.

DANZE: WELL, M. EASY. WE DIDN'T GET SHIT FROM THE ROC. THE ROC FUCKED US UP. NOW I'M AT FUCKING CRUNCH 4 DAYS A WEEK EATING BAKED CHICKEN FOR DINNER BECAUSE CURTIS IS TRYING TO MAKE US CUT.

FAME: BAKED CHICKEN.

DANZE: SO WE GONNA TAKE SOMETHING BACK TODAY. WE TRIED TO
HOLLER AT DAME, BUT HE'S IN THAT SHOE MONEY BIZ NOW. WE TRIED TO HOLLER AT YOUR MAN, BUT HE DOESN'T CALL US BACK. FAME EVEN WROTE HIM A LETTER LAST TIME HE WAS IN THE TOMBS.

FAME: PASSES THE TIME.

DANZE: BUT YOU'RE THE CLOSEST THING WE'VE GOT TO JAY. AND YOU'RE THE CLOSEST THING WE'VE GOT TO PAYBACK.SO HOW BOUT YOU RUN THAT '08 COUPE YOU GOT.

BLEEK: HA! WHAT?

FAME: 7,6,5...
[keys nervously thrown onto mixing board, perspiration, etc]

DANZE: AND YOU'RE GONNA PART WITH THAT PINK SLIP.

FAME: I AIN'T TRYING TO GET PULLED OVER ON THE BQE WITH NO PINK SLIP.

BLEEK: IT'S IN THE GLOVE. FUCK.

DANZE: WHAT?

BLEEK: FUCK AM I GONNA RHYME ABOUT NOW? THAT WAS MY FUCKING HOMERUN LINE RIGHT THERE. THE '08 COUPE!

DANZE: YOU GOT ANOTHER WHIP?

BLEEK: PIECE OF SHIT BEATER FROM '04 THAT I LET GEDDA K PUSH.

DANZE: WELL, COUPE AND ROOF KIND OF RHYME, WHETHER IT'S AN '04 OR AN '08.

BLEEK: OH SHIT!

DANZE: YEAH, YOU CAN HOLD THAT ONE.

BLEEK: SALUTE, MY DOG! LET'S SMOKE THIS DRO AND MAKE ANOTHER CLASSIC!

FAME: DANZE, THAT MEAN RED LIGHT?

DANZE: YEAH, DUKE. RED LIGHT. NO SPINE JACKING.

FAME: [sighs]

DANZE: YEAH, WE GONNA MAKE THIS SHIT POP. BUT, UM, I THINK PEEDI AND CHRIS WANNA HOLLER FIRST.

I DON'T EVEN LIKE TO RHYME, LOVE

"I AM NOT A RAPPER"






















"I AM NOT THE MANAGER OF A SUNGLASSES HUT"


























"I AM NOT LIL' WAYNE'S GHOSTWRITER"


TO: SEPARATING FATHERS FROM THEIR DAUGHTERS
FROM: A CROOK LIKE YOU
RE: MONSTER DOT COM

SHIT, B. I'VE BEEN TRUANT LIKE DMX AT FUCKING TRAFFIC SCHOOL. IT BEING THE FIRST QUARTER AND ALL, REFLECTION IS ON THE MENU FOR ME. I'M SURE IT IS FOR YOU AS WELL, AS YOU NO DOUBT AWAIT KANYE'S DELIVERY OF WHITE JAWNS IN THE GRAD SCHOOL LOUNGE TO GET YOU THROUGH THE FISCAL YEAR. THERE'S A WAR GOING ON OUTSIDE, MAN. I WOULD BE HANGING OUT WITH NICK CANNON TOO! YOU NEED SOME FUCKING SUNSHINE IN YOUR LIFE.

LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THE FIRST STORY I EVER DID AS A CUB RAP CRITIC. THE FIRST TIME I EVER TALKED ABOUT SOMETHING THAT SOMEONE ELSE LIVED.

THERE I WAS TAPE RECORDER IN HAND, OFF TO MEET CORMEGA AT HIS VIDEO SHOOT. NOW, AS A BIT OF BACKSTORY LEMME JUST THROW THIS OUT THERE: I FUCKING LOVE MEGA MONTANA. UPTOWN NIKES. THUGGED OUT AND ICY. MAD DEEP.

THIS WAS 2000. RIGHT WHEN THE GOD'S DOLO SLAB DROPPED. RIGHT WHEN DUDES WERE LIKE, 'YOU AIN'T HEARD THE TESTAMENT!? STOP FUCKING SPEAKING TO ME!" I THOUGHT I WAS GONNA BE UP IN THE QB CHINESE SPOT (THE ONE WHERE BLIND DUDE FROM SCREWBALL WORKS). BUT WE WERE ON SOME UP IS DOWN, BLACK IS WHITE SHIT. SO IN PLACE OF THE HOOD WE WOUND UP ON KENT AVENUE IN WILLIAMSBURG. AND IN PLACE OF AN ARMADA OF HARD-BODIED VALHALLA-VISITING-RACKETEERING-ASS-GANGSTERS, MEGA HAD A FEW OF HIS COUSINS. IT WAS TRILL.

SO THINGS ARE GOING WELL. ME AND MEGA ARE CHOPPING UP SOME SERIOUS SHIT:

"NAS AIN'T SHIT"
"I'VE BEEN TELLING PEOPLE THAT!"

THERE WAS A BREAK AT SOME POINT. THE PRODUCTION TEAM (BASICALLY A NYU DROP-OUT AND SOME BUBBLES-LOOKING DUDE) WERE DOING SOME MAINTENANCE ON THE ARMADA OF EVER PRESENT RYDE OR DIE MACHINERY (BASICALLY ONE ATV WITH A "LEFRAK LANDSCAPING" STICKER ON IT) (I THINK THEY BORROWED FROM NORE).

ME AND MEGA PASSED THE TIME IN HIS COCAINE WHITE JEEP, CHILLING IN A BUDDHA-TYPE MEDITATION. ONE THING LEADS TO ANOTHER AND THE LAH IS PASSED (NO THANKS, WOULDN'T WANT TO TARNISH OL' OBJECTIVITY!) A BEAT TAPE IS PUMPED AND MEGA AND HIS NEPHEWS BEGIN TO TAKE PART IN A CIPHER.

DIG IT, HOT CHIP: I WAS JUST A BOY FROM SCHOOL. THESE DUDES ARE COMING OFF THE TOP OF THE MIND GRAPE ABOUT THE JOY AND PAIN OF STEPPING ON COKE AND STEPPING ON NAS' FACE.

AND THEN MEGA TOLD ME TO RHYME.

IN MY ENTIRE LIFE I'VE WRITTEN LIKE ONE BAR. I HAD FABOLOUS IN MIND. HERE IT IS:

"SHE GIVES HEAD HANDS-FREE/I CALL HER BLUETOOTH"

F-A-B! YOU CAN HAVE THAT ONE ON CONSIGNMENT, SON!

ANYWAY, TO WRAP UP THIS YEAR-LONG PIECE OF MAGICAL THINKING, I FOLDED ON THE CHANCE TO "GO IN." MONTANA SOMEHOW GOT OVER IT, I THINK SOMEONE CALLED ME "BUBBLE BOY" AND NEXT THING YOU KNOW THE VIDEO SHOOT ROLLS ON.

VIVID, RIGHT? WELL, I TELL YOU ALL THIS TO ILLUSTRATE A SIMPLE POINT:

NOT EVERYONE CAN RAP.

I BELIEVE IN AMERICA AND KEVIN GARNETT. I BELIEVE THAT HARD WORK GETS YOU PLACES. BUT IT DOESN'T GET YOU A RECORD DEAL. EVEN ON KOCH. YOU AND ME BOTH KNOW: SOME DUDES SHOULD STAY ON MUTE.

WHICH IS WHY I NEVER GET THE "I AM NOT A RAPPER" STANCE. A GUY LIKE HELL RELL AKA THE RAKIM OF THE JAIL-PHONE FREESTYLE. I USED TO THINK THAT DUDE WAS JUST AROUND TO KEEP WRITER COMPANY OR SOMETHING. BUT I KINDA LIKE HIS LAST TAPE AND HE'S PRETTY FUCKING NICE ON THAT NEW CAM SHIT. HE'S ALL LIKE, "I'M PACKING ALL THE TOAST BUT YOU HOGGING THE BUTTER!" THAT'S A FUCKING DOUBLE ENTENDRE DUDE! HE'S TALKING ABOUT HIS GUN! NOT SLICED SEVEN GRAIN! THAT, DEPENDING ON YOUR ANGLE, IS FUCKING RHYME-ART IN MOTION.

SO, AS A DEALER-TURNED-RAPPER-TURNED-LAND-BARON, CAN YOU TELL ME WHY THE FUCK HE'S LIKE, "I AM NOT A RAPPER"!? I'M NOT EVEN PARAPHRASING! HE HAS A SONG CALLED, "I AM NOT A RAPPER"!

DUN: I HAVE NEVER COPPED DRUGS FROM A DUDE WHO WAS LIKE, "YO, JUST SO YOU KNOW, I AM NOT A DEALER. I JUST DO THIS CUZ I'M NICE."

IF YOU ARE SPENDING SO MUCH OF YOUR WAKING LIFE MOVING KI'S OR IN RELL'S CASE, AR-15'S (OK, DUDE) (BTW, GUNS ARE THE NEW COKE) THEN AREN'T YOU LEAVING A LOT OF FUCKING CAKE ON THE KIDS TABLE BY RAPPING? SOMEWHERE IN BRIGHTON BEACH THERE'S A RUSSIAN GUY WITH A SUITCASE FULL ISRAELI ARMY GUNS. AND RUGER'S IN THE LAB WITH DUKE DA GOD! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!

I AM NOT A LIFEGUARD (ANYMORE) (YO, IT WAS A GOOD LOOK FOR ME). RELL CAN SWIM IN THE DEEP END OF SELF-DETERMINATION WITH NO FLOATIES. I WISH HIM WELL AND ENJOY HIS "THROW SOME D'S" FREESTYLE. BUT THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH RAPPING. THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH SAYING, "I FUCKING RAP ABOUT COCAINE. IT'S ENOUGH OF A TIME COMMITMENT THAT I DON'T REALLY GET TO LOCK DOWN CORNERS ANYMORE." YOU'RE THE ONE WHO HAS TO LOOK YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR EVERYDAY. YOU MIGHT AS WELL BE AT PEACE WITH WHERE YOU PUNCH THE CLOCK. IT'S A SHORT FUCKING LIFE.

YOU'RE DEAD, SON. GET BURIED.

TO: LOST ONE
FROM: CODE NAME: FUCK GIULIANI
RE: BALLET

EPISODE FUCKING PI: A NEW HOPE. I MEAN LOOK AT THAT SHIT. NIHLISM. DEATHWISHES. YOU SONNED P. GOLF CLAP. BUT ONE THING HE'S GOT THAT YOU DON'T (AND IT REALLY IS THE ONLY THING) IS HE'S WILLING TO BE THE PUNCHLINE. HE'S OK WITH BEING A FUCKING MESS. YOU? REALLY, THE ONLY TIME I CAN THINK OF YOU GETTING PLAYED WAS WHEN GLORIA NEXTELED THE RADIO BEFORE YOU EXHALED AND CHASTISED YOUNG FOR USING MINI-NAS' THRONE AS A CONDOM RECEPTICLE.



YES, WAKEBOARD P HAS BEEN ON SOME READING THE PHONEBOOK SHIT FOR MOST OF THE CENTURY. YOU KNOW HOW SOME DUDES DO SO MUCH X IT TAKES THEM 4 SECONDS TO PROCESS SHIT? YOU KNOW, LIKE WHAT HAPPENED TO JA? RIGHT. P SORTA SEEMED LIKE THAT. LIKE SOMEWHERE INSIDE HIS HEAD WAS THIS KINDA TRENCHANT IDEA, BUT IT CAME OUT LIKE:

FRONTIN'
KILLIN' NUTTIN'
YOU NIGGAZ IS REAL GAY
SEE ME SHININ'
MAD DIAMONDS
NOW WHAT CAN I SAY?

NOT A FUCKING LOT, I GUESS! EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE HE'D POSE A EARTH-SHAKING QUERY LIKE, "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS DAVE LETTERMAN SHIT ON THE LATE NIGHT?" BUT TO GET TO THAT A CONSUMER WOULD HAVE TO GET FIVE-TRACKS DEEP INTO MOTHERFUCKING INFAMY.

WHAT DUDE NEVER LOST WAS THAT FUCKING INSANE NEVER-SCARED VIBE. NOT BECAUSE HE HAD AN A-R IN HIS AUDI. IT'S BECAUSE HE PROBABLY HAS SPENT PLENTY OF NIGHTS PREFERING TO BE DEAD. AND WHEN HE WASN'T BUSY WITH THAT, IT WAS PROBABLY SOME COMBO OF SMASHING CHICKS UNDERNEATH THE HIMALAYA, GETTING BEAT UP, GETTING ROBBED, GETTING SICK AND GETTING HIGH.

LEMME TELL YOU SOMETHING, SMILEY: WHEN YOU HIT BOTTOM, GUESS WHAT IT SOUNDS LIKE? FUCKING FLAT. JUST LIKE PRODIGY. LIKE YOU ALWAYS KNEW IT WAS COMING. AND THERE WAS NOTHING YOU COULD DO ABOUT IT.

THE MOST VULNERABLE YOU GET IS ON SHIT LIKE "SONG CRY" OR WHATEVER WHERE YOU GIVE US A SNAPSHOT OF THE EMOTIONAL ISOLATION THAT GOES ALONG WITH SMASHING GIRLS FROM THE "I JUST WANNA LUV U" VIDEO.

THAT SHIT IS REAL TENDER. BUT YOU AIN'T GOT NOTHIN' ON TWYLA FUCKING THARP UP THERE. P IS FOR PATHOS.

I'MA FUCK AROUND AND BARF!

TO: WHEN I COME BACK LIKE JORDAN, WEARING THE 4-5, FUCKING UP KWAME BROWN FOR THE FORESEEABLE FUTURE AND BUILDING HOMELESS SHELTERS WITH ALL THE FUCKING BRICKS I'M PUTTING UP.
FROM: MY HAIR HURTS
RE: EVERYTHING IN ITS RIGHT PLACE



















SO LET ME ASK YOU. DID I MISS THE FUCKING MASONIC RAP ILLUMINATI MEETING WHERE WE DECIDED THAT THERE WERE REQUIREMENTS FOR THROWING SHOTS AT SOMEONE? WAS THERE A FUCKING QUORUM?

WHY THE FUCK IS KAY SLAY TELLING LIL' WAYNE HE CAN'T GET A LITTLE ORNERY WITH YOU?! YEAH, I KNOW YOU WERE IN ST. TROPEZ PLAYING PUT-PUT WITH KENNY CHESNEY OR SOME SHIT. BUT THE WORLD KEEPS TURNING EVEN WHEN YOU'RE SNORKELING.

TO SUMMARIZE: BIRDKISSER BASICALLY SAID, HIP-HOP DOESN'T NEED SAVING. YOU'RE THE GOD. BUT STAY IN THE CLOUDS. THEN HE SAID HE WAS BETTER THAN YOU.

MEANWHILE, IN MANIC RADIO PERSONALITY LAND, KAY SLAY GOES OFF SAYING OF WAYNE, "YOU DON'T HAVE THE AUTHORITY TO GO AT JAY-Z..." TO WHICH HE ADDED, "AND I'M NOT EVEN A BIG JAY-Z FAN."

PUTTING OUT THE MOTHERFUCKING STREETSWEEPER VOL. 2...THAT'S OFFICIAL LICENSE TO BRACE MOTHERFUCKERS ON INTERNET RADIO AS PART OF YOUR DAILY BREAKFAST. BUT LIL' WAYNE NEEDS TO SHUT THE FUCK UP?! OK! COOL. JUST WANTED TO IRON OUT THE ORNATE REASONING! NO DOUBT, AT THAT VERY SAME MOMENT, SOMEWHERE IN BROOKLYN, PAPOOSE SCRAPPED HIS JAY-Z DISS RECORD THAT WAS COMPOSED ENTIRELY OF FUCKING PALINDROMES.

WAYNE IS BETTER THAN YOU BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT THAT FUCKING GOOD RIGHT NOW! YOU MUST KNOW THIS. OTHERWISE WHY WOULD YOU SPEND THE THIRD VERSE OF THE 'LOST ONES' VIDEO LOOKING LIKE YOU WERE A TEN YEAR OLD GIRL AT A SPELLING BEE!?

BUT BACK TO THE POINT: WHAT THE SHIT IS UP WITH, 'YOU HAVEN'T EARNED IT.' HIP-HOP IS ALL ABOUT SLAYING THE FUCKING FATHER! RAKIM BODIED A WHOLE FUCKING DECADE OF RAPPERS WITHOUT SAYING A SINGLE NAME!

WEEZY, WHETHER YOU THINK HE'S THE BEST RAPPER ALIVE OR NOT, HE'S MADE THE GREAT AMERICAN RAP LEAP. YOU MADE IT (DEBATABLE AS TO WHEN...VOL. 2 TO VOL.3? DYNASTY TO BLUEPRINT? WE CAN TALK ABOUT IT AT THE SPOTTED PIG LATER). GHOST MADE IT. IT'S NOT JUST ABOUT A LEAP IN TALENT OR SKILL ON SOME, YO, HOW THE FUCK IS CRAIG BIGGIO HITTING 40 HOMERS WHEN HE LOOKS LIKE LIL MAN FROM WILLOW SHIT. I AIN'T TALKING ABOUT PUTTING SOME OF THAT CREAM AND A BIT OF THAT CLEAR ON YOUR RHYMEBOOK, G. OH RIGHT, YOU DON'T WRITE. YOU RECITE. FORGOT THAT 60 MINUTES SHIT.

NAH, I'M TALKING ABOUT THE MOMENT WHEN A RAPPER BECOMES THE MOMENT (MARINATE ON THAT SHIT!). IT'S THE POINT WHERE HE UNDERSTANDS HOW GOOD HE IS, WHAT HE MEANS TO PEOPLE, BUT AT THE SAME TIME SEEMS COMPLETELY UNSHACKLED FROM ALL THAT SHIT. ID! EGO! IT'S LIKE A FUCKING CANIBUS SONG!

ALL I'M SAYING IS DON'T BE SO SENSITIVE, DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE! WHEN JAYO FELONY TOOK A SHOT AT YOU WHAT DID YOU DO? SHOVED BLEEK OUT THE BOOTH (AN UNREMARKABLE OCCURENCE, I BET) AND THREW SOME SUB ZERO SHIT HIS WAY ON "1, 2, Y'ALL." IF WAYNE WANTS TO FUCK WITH YOU, DON'T ACT LIKE HE NEEDS TO FILL OUT SOME FORM IN TRIPLICATE. HIT HIM BACK! OR DON'T PAY ATTENTION TO THE SHIT AND GO BACK TO CHECKING THE AMAZON COMMENTS FOR KINGDOM COME! BUT IF YOU PIC UP A MIC, YOU GET TO SAY YOUR PIECE. GOT TO. IT'S AMERICA, MAN.

SOUTH PHILLY MOTHERFUCKERS KILL AT WILL

TO: AT THE DREAMGIRLS PREMIERE, SCREAMING, 'DEATH TO Y'ALL!'
FROM: ME AND THE BOY A.I. GOT MORE IN COMMON THAN NOT GRADUATING COLLEGE AND POSTING UP AT THE CITY LINE AVE. T.G.I.FRIDAY'S
RE: I SIT ALONE IN MY (CHARMINGLY) DIRTY ASS ROOM LISTENING TO MSTRKRFT, WEARING A BAPE GEORDI LAFORGE VISOR, HIGH ON DRUGS

or

THE PHILADELPHIA STORY








































BY THE WAY: GOBBLE, GOBBLE, RIGHT!? TOTALLY FORGOT TO CHECK IN WITH YOU. YO, HOW DID B'S TOFURKEY WORK OUT? YEAH? WELL...VEGITARIANISM IS A LIFESTYLE CHOICE.

SO, YOU KNOW HOW OLD GIRL ONCE SAID, 'WE TELL OURSELVES STORIES IN ORDER TO LIVE?' (BOOKS DOT GOOGLE...BALLIN!). WELL, YOU AND ME? WE TELL OURSELVES STORIES THAT SCREAM, 'CAN I LIVE!?' UP HIGH!
SO, HOVITO, WHY DON'T YOU GET IN YOUR RUSSELL RUSH YOGA POSE, AND COP A SPOT BY THE HEARTH. I GOT A STORY TO TELL.

FRIDAY AFTER THANKSGIVING- ME AND SOME FRIENDS WATCH THE SIXERS PUT A FUCKING BEATING ON THE BULLS, THEN WE ROLL OVER TO THIS SPOT THAT, FOR ONE GOLDEN MOMENT A FEW YEARS AGO, YOU COULD GO POST UP, HEAR 'BROOKLYN ZOO' AND THEN (YOU ARE NOT READY...) "HOUSE OF JEALOUS LOVERS" [FLEXBOMBDROPS]. I DON'T KNOW...JUST TRY TO IMAGINE PAID IN FULL MEETS DEAD POETS SOCIETY...



















NO, IT'S NOT AN ACCURATE DESCRIPTION, MANG! I JUST THOUGHT IT WOULD BE FUNNY FOR YOU TO BE THINKING OF ETHAN HAWKE AND KILLA CAM CHOPPING IT UP FOR A SECOND. WATCHOUT! I RUN NEW YORK!

POINT IS: IT WAS THE PERFECT PLACE TO ACT LIKE YOU WERE THE BEST THING TO EVER PASS THROUGH THE LONG-LEGGED LIFE OF SOME SEXUALLY CONFUSED PHILLY COLLEGE OF THE ARTS CO-ED.

BUT CHECK IT OUT, MAN OF THE YEAR...YOU CAN'T GO (TO BEANIE'S) HOME AGAIN.
THE CLIFF NOTE'S VERSION IS, I STOOD AROUND NOT GETTING DRUNK WATCHING ONE OF THE GOTTI BOYS' NEPHEWS TRYING TO DRY HUMP A WALLFLOWER WHILE THE DJ PLAYED "MY HUMPS" AND "TO HELL WITH POVERTY."

WE KEPT DRINKING TIL 12:45 IN THE MORNING. AFTER THE SHOW? IT WAS THE AFTER PARTY; ROLLING DOWN SPRING GARDEN IN MY MANS' MOMS' MAZDA LISTENING TO POWER99 COME LIVE FROM THE PALMER SOCIAL (GIRLS GET IN FREE BEFORE 11).

NOW LET'S THROW THIS BITCH IN NEUTRAL FOR A SECOND. YOU REMEMBER 2003? YOU AND DAME WERE ROLLING THROUGH PHILLY LIKE:












YOU HAD TO BE DOING TIME IN COUNTY OR JEDI MIND TRICKS TO NOT GET PUT ON. I MEAN...O AND FUCKING SPARKS!? THAT'S SOME FDR NEW DEAL SHIT RIGHT THERE!

I WOULD LOVE TO SEE YOU TRY AND PITCH THIS SHIT AS A BUSINESS PLAN IN '06, B. I MEAN YOU GOT YOUR BRAND CONSULTANT, YOUR STOCK BROKER, LA REID'S ASSISTANT; THEY'RE ALL AROUND THE ROUND TABLE AND YOU COME AT THEM WITH:

"HOMESKILLETS! I AM FINNA SIGN HALF OF PHILADELPHIA! Y'ALL FUCKIN WITH YOUNG GUNZ?! FREE!? MAC MITTENS?! THERE'S SOMETHING IN THE CHEESE WHIZ, BOOKWORMS! TAKE THAT SHIT TO THE HOUSE!"

I DON'T KNOW. I COULD SEE THAT FALLING OF THEIR FOURTH QUARTER PROJECTIONS. BUT FUCK A BUNCH OF WHITE PEOPLE, MAN. BECAUSE YOU KNOW WHAT THAT LITTLE ROC 4 LIFE (ER...HOLD ON) MOVEMENT DID? IT FUCKING MOVED SOME PEOPLE!

3 YEARS LATER, IN THE FRONT SEAT OF A MAZDA, SOME DUDE WHO WAS NOT COSMIC KEV FUCKING NAILGUNNED OUT ALL THE CENTRAL GOD DAMN TEXTS:

"I GOTTA HAVE IT" [BY THE WAY, THANKS FOR SHELVING PEEDI FOREVER. YOU'RE FUCKING AUTISTIC], "CAN'T STOP WON'T STOP" [ACTUALLY KINDA CORNY NOW, BUT YOU GOTTA LOOK AT THE WHOLE FUCKING TAPESTRY, SHAWN!], "FLIPSIDE" [BEST SONG OF THE LAST 20 YEARS. HEATHER MILLS MCCARTNEY CRIES HERSELF TO SLEEP AT NIGHT OVER THE FACT THAT SHE CHOSE PAUL INSTEAD OF FREEWAY. SHE'S LIKE 'POP IN TAPE! STEP ON GAS! I AIN'T EVEN GOT A LEG!' THAT'S HOW FUCKING GOOD THIS SONG IS. AMPUTEES, SON! THIS SHIT HEALS HEARTS!]. "ROC THE MIC..."IF DUDE HAD PLAYED "LINE EM UP" THERE WOULD HAVE BEEN THREE DEAD WHITE BOYS ON BROAD STREET. HE MUST'VE KNOWN THE RADIOACTIVE SUSHI HE WAS SERVING.

THE POINT OF THIS TRIP DOWN RECENT MEMORY LANE IS THIS: YOU CANNOT FUCKING MICROWAVE MOMENTS LIKE THAT. YOU CANNONT YOUTUBE THAT FEELING. YOU MAKE A MIXTAPE. YOU GIVE IT A NAME. BUT THAT SHIT HAS TO WANT TO BE SOMEHTING MORE THAN WORDS COMING OUT OF DJ ENVY'S MOUTH. YOU CAN'T A&R YOUR LABEL LIKE YOU WERE BRIAN FUCKING CASHMAN.

FOR A COUPLE OF YEARS MY BESHITTED CITY PUMPED DIESEL AND PEOPLE GOT HIGH. THESE GRIMEY MOTHERFUCKING PHILADELPHIANS MET A MAN NAMED JUST BLAZE AND THEY GEORGE BUSHED THE BUTTON. YOU CAN'T CALL A MOVEMENT 'A MOVEMENT' UNTIL SHIT STOPS SPINNING. AND THEN WHEN YOU'RE IN A MAZDA ON A GLOBALLY WARMED FRIDAY NIGHT, AND SOME DUDE UNLEASHES "FLIPSIDE" YOU KNOW THAT YOU WERE GIVEN A GIFT. THAT A MUSIC AND A CITY GOT KNOTTED, AND YOU HAD THE PLEASURE OF GETTING TANGLED THE FUCK UP.

MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS, K DOT KRINGLE. FUCK BEING NAUGHTY. FUCK BEING NICE. EVEN THOUGH WHAT WE DO IS WRONG, I GOT MY PRESENT ALREADY.

STATE PROPERTY III

THIS TIME EVERYTHING IS ON THE LINE

Three notorious gangsters wage a bloody battle for supremacy in the City of Brotherly Love.

Lunatic ...














...the imprisoned kingpin and hometown drug lord, struggles to keep his renegade CNBC Crime Syndicate on the map. He is driven and consumed by a festering hatred for his longtime rival...

Blood Rush...




















...the Harlem-born hustler, is also the top dog in town. His Parachute network is unmatched in cash-flow and manpower. With a long list of enemies seeking territory and revenge, the self-proclaimed "cakeaholic..."




















is forced into a vicious war.


Loco...
















...the flashy Miami playboy, is about to be released from prison. His deep pockets and stellar reputation prove to be valuable tools in Loco's plot to take over the streets of Philly. But he must first overcome the ghosts from a turbulent past...














Somewhere, buried deep within the ranks of one of these gangs, a ruthless criminal mastermind is conspiring to take them all down.

DREAMS OF FUCKING A COCAINE DEALER

AAA+++, WOULD BUY AGAIN! THANKS!


TO: HE WHO OVERCHARGES US FOR WHAT THEY DID TO COLD CRUSH
FROM: JUST NOW LEARNING THE SHIT THAT YOU TAUGHT
RE: WHAT WE TALK ABOUT WHEN WE TALK ABOUT DRUGS

TO QUOTE YOU: "Y'ALL RESPECT THE ONE WHO GOT SHOT WHILE I RESPECT THE SHOOTER." I WAS JUST WONDERING, DID YOU LEAVE OFF THE FOLLOWING BAR WHERE YOU ALSO POINT OUT THE MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF DAP YOU GIVE RAPPERS WHO WEAVE UTTER FUCKING SCI-FI?
PICTURE RICK RIZZLE, SITTING IN HIS HOUSE, SURROUNDED BY BALLED UP PIECES OF NOTEBOOK PAPER.
WHAT WAS THAT? OH...YOU THOUGHT HE WAS WRITING RHYMES!!!!!??!?!? SHIT, MAN. I'M SORRY. NO, WHEN YOU GET TO RICK'S AESTHETIC TAX BRACKET YOU JUST GOTTA LET THE MUSE COME TO YOU, DOGGY. CAN'T HURRY THAT SHIT.
ROSS WAS JUST BEAN COUNTING, TRYING TO MAKE ENDS MEET.
SEE, HE NEEDS 10 MIL A YEAR JUST TO GET BY. AND HE DON'T MAKE 10 MIL OFF MUSIC. GET ME? AND HE LIVES IN MIAMI, NAHMEAN? IT'S CLOSE TO SOUTH AMERICA, DIG? HE'S FOUND A WAY TO SUPPLY THE DEMAND OF M.I.'S ACTIVE LIFESTYLE GLADIATORS.
AND HE WROTE AN ALBUM ABOUT IT.
BUT HERE'S THE THING. WHEN YOU TALK ABOUT CHILLAXING WITH CHRIS AND PALTROW, I THINK IT'S MAD DUMB. BUT I BELIEVE YOU. SOMETIMES I DO A LITTLE MENTAL GYMNASTICS AND IMAGINE YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT THIS CAT...












CHRIS...PA...ALMOST! ANYWAY, THE POINT IS, YOU'RE BEING A SQUARE-G WITH A DUDE.

LET'S SAY ALL RICK'S SHIT ABOUT NORIEGA BEING INDEBTED TO HIM (EVEN THOUGH ROSS WAS 12 WHEN N.O.R.I. WENT TO FEDERAL) IS REALLY AN MC RUNNING IN THE BEAUTIFUL MEADOW OF LANGUAGE.
WORD, WORD, ARTISTIC LICENSE, THE POET AT WORK. SURE THING, DUKE. I WOULD TOTALLY AGREE WITH YOU, EXCEPT THIS CAT'S MAIN CONTIBUTION TO THE GAME HAS BEEN RHYMING 'ATLANTIC' WITH 'ATLANTIC.' SO IF YOU'RE TELLING ME HE'S USING ICONIC FIGURES OF THE DRUG TRADE TO ESTABLISH HIS BONA FIDES, YOU GOTTA SELL THAT SLUSHY TO ANOTHER FUCKING ESKIMO.

THE ONLY THING DUDE IS STEPPING ON IS FUCKING REALITY. I'M NOT SAYING HIS MAN ISN'T DOING LIFE FOR RUNNING AN EMPIRE. OR THAT HE DOESN'T HAVE VARSITY LETTERS FROM SOME PRETTY SERIOUS SQUADS. AND, NOW THAT WE'RE REALLY CHOPPING IT UP, IT'S NOT LIKE I WANT SOME HAND-HELD, PURE FUCKING TRUTH IN BARS. IT WOULD BE PRETTY WEIRD IF PORT WAS LACED WITH TRACKS LIKE, "FUCK! I CUT MY FINGER! AGAIN!" OR "WHEN I SAY 20 MINUTES, I MEAN 2 HOURS" OR "DON'T ASK HOW IT'S POSSIBLE FOR ME TO HAVE JUST LEFT MY HOUSE WHEN I TOLD YOU I WAS ON THE FDR AN HOUR AGO." SOME OF LIFE'S MINUTAE DOESN'T NEED TO BE FROZEN IN RHYME.
BUT COME ON. SAYING NORIEGA IS IN YOUR DEBT OR SAYING YOU STILL GOT DUDES WHO REALLY DEAL COCAINE...SHUT THE FUCK UP! DON'T INSULT EVERYBODY'S INTELLIGENCE. IF HE'S SAYING, 'I GOT THE EVANSTON, WYOMING BATHTUB METH GAME ON LOCK!" I WOULD TAKE HIS WORD ON THAT. BUT I HEARD TELL THAT MIAMI-DADE LAW ENFORCEMENT, WHEN NOT DIPPING TO CUBA WITH GONG-LI, ARE SOMEWHAT AWARE OF THE CITY'S DRUG PROBLEM! YOU WOULDN'T HAVE TO GO DOWN ON A JUDGE TO GET A WARRANT ON DOUBLE R.
HE'S SAYING, 'IF YOU WANNA GET HIGH IN DADE COUNTY THEN YOU MUST SEE ME.' HE MUST BE RESPONSIBLE FOR AT LEAST 3 OF PARIS HILTON'S PLASTIC SEPTUMS. FUCK ALL THAT! I DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THE VERACITY OF PEOPLE'S COKE RESUMES.
BY THE WAY: I FULLY ADMIT TO FETISHIZING COKE USE AND DEALING. AND I'VE GIVEN MYSELF CARPAL TUNNEL CELEBRATING A TON OF MUSIC THAT HAS SOMETIMES/OFTEN (YOU DO THE ZOGBY SHIT) ROMANTICIZED A FUCKING MULTI-DECADE CANCER THAT'S KILLED MORE PEOPLE AND RUINED MORE LIVES THAN MOST PEOPLE ARE COMFORTABLE EVEN THINKING ABOUT. THAT'S ON ME. MAYBE ONE DAY I'LL HAVE TO STAND TALL BEFORE THE MAN. MAYBE NOT. THAT'S MY FUCKING JOURNEY, BLIZZARD-MASTER.
LET'S ALL SHARE THE UNDERSTANDING THAT 12 YEARS AGO THE STUFF YOU KICK WOULD BE CONSIDERED SO OUTLANDISH IT WAS CALLED, "SPACE SHIT" AND PRODIGY WOULD BE LIKE, 'DON'T EVEN TALK TO ME WHEN YOU SEE ME.' AND THAT MOTHERFUCKER IS ONE BOUNCED CHECK AWAY FROM THE TOURING PRODUCTION OF LIGHT IN THE PIAZZA!


LASTLY, I JUST WANTED TO MENTION: I'M NOT ONE OF THOSE WHITE BOYS WHO THINKS EVERY WORD PUSHA SAYS IS LIKE UNFUCKWITHABLE GOSPEL...WHAT'S SO FUNNY!?...BUT THIS (COURTESEY OF THE LANDLORD):

"I CAN'T TELL YOU WHO WAS REPLACING HIM BECAUSE HE'S STILL LIVING AND I AIN'T TRYING TO CATCH NO CASE FOR HIM."

I'M NOT EVEN BUZZING THE TOWER OF THE USS STOP SNITCHING. BUT A GOOD RULE OF THUMB IS IXNAY ON THE SELF-INCRIMINATION. DON'T BE YOUR OWN:

BOO, TAKE YOUR COAT OFF, YOU CAN STAY FOR A MINUTE!

TO: YE WHO WOULD NOT CHANGE FOR NO PAPER, WHO LIVED FOR THE LOVE THE STREETS, WHO RAPPED TO THE RUGGEDEST BEATS.

FROM: THE MAN WAITING FOR THE ALLHIPHOP ALERT THAT READS. 'JOE BUDDEN IS BACK! MAGIC CITY NON-PLUSSED!'

RE: AND WHO WILL SPEAK FOR THE TYUS EDNEY'S?

NEW JERSEY MAKES. YOU SAY SHIT LIKE, TRU LIFE'S "ALBUM IS COMING TOGETHER."

THE OTHER DAY I FOUND MYSELF IN THE DEF JAM BOILER ROOM, LOOKING FOR A COPY OF CORMEGA'S THE TESTAMENT...YOU KNOW...FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS AND SHIT. AND WHO SHOULD I COME ACROSS BUT THE GARDEN STATE GARDENERS OF RHYME: JOE BUDDEN AND REDMAN...

RED: YO, B. WHEN DID MY LAST ALBUM DROP?

JOE: I KNOW, PA. I FEEL YOU. IT'S LIKE YOU CAN'T EVEN REMEMBER.

RED: NO, KID. THAT AIN'T A RHETORICAL QUESTION. I SERIOUSLY DON'T KNOW.

JOE: RIGHTRIGHT. JUMP OFF'S BEEN IN LINE AT THE TOLL BOOTH FOR A MINUTE.

RED: I BEEN ON ONE SONG THAT DEF JAM PUT OUT THIS YEAR, DUKE. AND IT'S ON GHOST'S SECOND ALBUM OF THE YEAR! YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?

JOE: THAT YOU'RE FEELING IGNORED, LIKE THE WORLD IS INSENSITIVE TO YOUR EXISTENCE, THAT THE WALLS ARE CLOSING IN?

RED: NO! IT MEANS DEF JAM PUT OUT AS MUCH MUSIC BY CAPPADONNA AS THEY DID BY ME! REGGIE NOBLE'S PISSED!

JOE: OK.

REDMAN: DON'T GET IT TWISTED. I LOVE STARKS, YOU KNOW? "AIM AND COUGH! TRAINED TO BRAWL. TRAINING BRA!" BLAOW!

JOE: GHOST CRIES.

RED:...

JOE: YOU GOTTA STAY BUSY, NAHMEAN. HIT THE MIXTAPE GAME. GET ON THEM REMIXES. I DID THAT GWEN STEFANI JOINT-

RED: WORD?!

JOE: NAH. BUT MY MANS GOT AN MP3 AND I PUT 16 ON IT! IT WAS FIRE! THAT'S HOW I'VE BEEN DEALING WITH ALL THIS STRESS, MAN. MIXTAPES. I GOT THE WORST OF JOE BUDDEN, MOOD MUZIK 1, MOOD MUZIK 2. AND NOW JUMP OFF'S WORKING ON A COUPLE NEW JOINTS: INTERIORS, I GOT THIS SHIT WITH DJ ON POINT CALLED WINTER LIGHT. JUMP OFF EVEN GOT ONE CALLED FIVE EASY PIECES. THAT SHIT IS ABOUT ALIENATION, YOU KNOW? GOT A LINE LIKE 'ALIEN NATION JUST LIKE LOU GOSSETT.' IT'S REALLY MORE LIKE A SKETCH, YOU KNOW? JUMP OFF LACKS A LITTLE CONFIDENCE.

RED: YOU'RE REALLY THE ONLY DUDE I KNOW WHO CALLS HIMSELF 'JUMP OFF.' I COULD CARE LESS. BUT THAT'S KINDA WEIRD, B.

[JOE LOOKS OFF TO A POINT IN THE DISTANCE, BITING ON HIS LOWER LIP]

RED: YOU DO YOUR THING, KID. I DON'T NEED MUCH. EVERYBODY KNOWS THAT. I GOT A CELICA WITH A SEGA WELDED TO THE DASH. MY MAN PLAYS SHINOBI IN THE WHIP. BUT I GOT A DIVERSE AUDIENCE. I SEE EM AT SHOWS. THERE'S STONERS, SPALDING GRAY FANS (GOD REST YOUR LIFE), THE X-GAMES CATS, DUDES WHO STILL ROCK TIMS & CARHARTS. AND THEN THERE'S ERICK SERMON! THAT'S A DEF SQUAD!

JOE: HAVING SOME SORT OF SUPPORT SYSTEM IS IMPORTANT. I TALK ABOUT THAT ON THE 8-MINUTE SCOTT STORCH JOINT FROM MY ALBUM. IT'S ABOUT THE CYCLICAL PATTERN OF VIOLENCE THAT EMERGES FROM AN ABUSIVE HOUSEHOLD. I TOLD JAY IT SHOULD BE THE SINGLE.

RED: WHAT HE SAY?

JOE: WELL, I DIDN'T [AIR-QUOTES]"TELL JAY"[/AIR-QUOTES] TELL JAY. IT WAS MORE LIKE LEAVING A MESSAGE FOR HIM. ON HIS OFFICE LINE. WHICH ODDLY ENOUGH IS THE SAME AS A RANCH 1 ACROSS FROM PORT AUTHORITY. BUT I GUESS THAT'S WHY HE'S THE BOSS, RIGHT? THAT KIND OF VISION IS RARE. KEEPS US HUNGRY.

RED: YOU SAY FOOD? LET'S RUSH JUSTIN'S, I COULD EAT A FUCKING HOLE THROUGH A BUFFET TABLE. AND I THINK PUFF MIGHT COMP MY SHIT. HE OWES 20$ FROM '98.

JOE: OK, YOU KNOW...I'LL HEAD OVER WITH YOU AND JUST CATCH THE PATH. IT'S HARD FOR ME TO BE IN CROWDS.

YEAH I'M THREATENING YA ! I KEEP HEDGE FUNDS!

TO: RAP'S GRATEFUL DEAD
FROM: THE DUDE NO PRISSY CHICKS WANNA FUCK WITH
RE: I'VE BECOME SO NUMB

THIS BEING SOME WEB 2.0 SHIT, BUT YOU PROBABLY BEING BUSY FAST FORWARDING THROUGH JOE BUDDEN'S LATEST DEMO, I THOUGHT I WOULD TAKE THE LIBERTY OF RESPONDING FOR YOU. THIS IS OF COURSE ASSUMING THAT YOUR RESPONSE ISN'T TO SEND MEMPH OVER TO THE CRIB TO OPEN BEER BOTTLES ON MY CHIPPED TOOTH. AHEM:

"WHY CAN'T I ENJOY, AND RAP ABOUT, THE MINUTAE OF MIDDLE AGE AND THE GLORIES OF THE FREE MARKET!? I DON'T MAKE THREATS ANYMORE! I BUILD BRANDS, BITCH!"

WORD. I AM A FIRM BELIEVER IN THE "YOU DO YOU" WAY OF LIVING. IF YOU WANNA MAKE AIMLESS, ARTLESS, EDGE-FREE RAP SHIT THEN BY ALL MEANS, GO FOR YOURS. JUST ONE THING, THOUGH:

I WANT TO LISTEN TO SHIT LIKE THAT ABOUT AS OFTEN AS I WANT TO READ ONE OF JOHN "BALLS-AND-MY-WORD" UPDIKE'S ELEGIAC ACCOUNTS OF SOME BASHFUL 60-YR OLD ENGLISH PROFESSOR J-O'ING TO THOUGHTS OF WOMEN'S TENNIS. OR AS OFTEN AS I PLAN WEEKENDS AROUND FOLIAGE. OR AS OFTEN AS I LISTEN TO BLACKAFUCKINGLICIOUS!
CHECK IT: NPR RAP? WHATEVER GETS YOU THROUGH THE NIGHT, HOMIE. IT AIN'T MY THING, BUT IT STILL HAS THE CAPACITY TO BE GOOD SHIT. MAYBE. BUT THIS:

'I DIG A HOLE IN THE DESERT, THEY BUILD THE SANDS ON YOU, LAY OUT BLUEPRINT PLANS ON YOU. WE RAT PACK NIGGAZ, LET SAM TAP DANCE ON YOU"

YEAH IT'S ABOUT BODYING DUDES AND BUILDING CASINOS OVER THEIR MAKESHIFT GRAVES. BUT IT ALSO MAKES OTHER RAPPERS GRAB THE MAC FROM THE BACK OF THE AC AND FUCKING KILL THEMSELVES BECAUSE THEY WILL NEVER SAY IT BETTER. 40/40 CLUB'S APPETIZERS? SOME CONVO YOU HAD WITH THE IDIOT FROM MAD MONEY? WHO GIVES A SHIT. BUT RESPECT YOUR PAST FUCKING DARTS. YOU'RE MAKING ME FEEL LIKE I GOT ALZHEIMERS UP IN THIS PIECE.

BUY KINGDOM COME AND GET A FREE FUCKING TOTE BAG!

TO: JAY
FROM: THE GUY WHO ACTUALLY SAID TO HIMSELF, "534 IS KINDA GOOD!" AND THEN ALMOST THREW UP IN HIS OWN MOUTH
RE: GOOD CREDIT AND SUCH

SO LET ME SET THE SCENE, BROSEPH. CUZ I THINK I FIGURED OUT WHY YOUR ALBUM IS SO DISTINGUISHED FUCKING GREY WITH A SODA ON THE SIDE.
SO YOU'RE IN BED WITH B. SHE'S IN AN AMBIEN COMA HUMMING SONGS FROM YENTL AS SHE DREAMS ABOUT UNICORNS AND SHIT.
WHICH IS GOOD, BECAUSE SHE DOESN'T BUDGE WHEN YOU WAKE UP IN A STATE OF UNHINGED TERROR, SHAKING AND SWEATING.
YOU THROW ON THE SLIPPERS AND GO TO THE KITCHEN, SCROLL THROUGH THE CRACKBERRY. RICHARD JEFFERSON WANTS TO KNOW IF YOU STILL MIGHT BE ABLE TO PUT A 16 ON HIS DEMO. GOTTA REMEMBER TO IGNORE HIM NEXT TIME YOU GO TO THE MEADOWLANDS. AND THEN THERE'S ONE FROM REDMAN. HE SAYS HE'S GOING TO KILL YOU.
YOU GRAB A YOPLAIT AND GET COMFY ON THE OTTOMAN. YOU'RE TRYING TO PARSE THE NIGHTMARE YOU JUST HAD. IT'S THE ONE THAT HAS BEEN HAUNTING YOU SINCE YOU RETIRED. FOR A SECOND YOU GET DISTRACTED, WONDERING IF YOU SHOULD GO TO THERAPY. IF THERAPY IS GROWN AND SEXY. BUT YOU DON'T NEED LORRAINE BRACCO. THE DREAM IS SIMPLE. IT BETRAYS YOUR GREATEST, DEEPEST FEAR.
IN YOUR DREAM, YOU ARE NAS.
YOU PUT OUT ALBUMS AND NOBODY CARES. YOU START BEEF AND NOBODY GIVES A SHIT. SIRIUS DOESN'T GET BACK TO YOU ABOUT HAVING YOUR OWN SHOW. YOU CALL NEW ALBUMS SHIT LIKE, STILL PLENTY OF REASON TO DOUBT. DJ DRAMA TELLS YOU HE'S "CRAZY BUSY." YOU DON'T OWN SUMMER.
BECAUSE THAT'S WHY YOU ARE PUTTING THIS SHIT OUT, RIGHT? IT'S NOT REALLY SOME FUCKING TAX BREAK FOR ISLAND. IOVINE ISN'T PAYING YOU TO COCK-BLOCK JEEZY. AND IT SURE AIN'T BECAUSE YOU HAVE A LOT ON YOUR MIND.
THE REAL REASON YOU COPPED HALF-A-DOZEN DRE BEATS THAT COULDN'T MAKE IT ON TO AN EVE ALBUM IS THAT YOU COULD NEVER ACCEPT THE IDEA OF NORMAL. THAT YOU WOULD PUT OUT AN ALBUM AND CATS WOULD BE LIKE, "COOL, BUT I HAVEN'T LIKED HIS LAST 4 ALBUMS THAT MUCH. I'LL RAPIDSHARE THAT MOTHERFUCKER."
YOU HAD TO DO A DOUBLE CD, FOLLOWED BY YOUR LAST ALBUM, FOLLOWED BY YOUR COMEBACK. JUST LIKE YOU HAD TO DO A FINAL SHOW, FOLLOWED BY A REASONABLE DOUBT SHOW, FOLLOWED BY THE I-DECLARE-PEACE SHIT.
SO WHAT'S NEXT? DEATH? IT'S COOL. IT WAS ALL A DREAM.

ONCE MORE, THIS TIME WITH BANGERS

TO: GOD MC
FROM: THE BOSWELL OF S.A.N.T.A.N.A.'S TOWN
RE: NO FUCKING MULLIGANS

REMEMBER WHEN T.I.'S ALBUM LEAKED LIKE 9 TIMES AND DUDES WERE LIKE, 'YO, TIP IS GIVING BIG KUNTRY HIS OWN FUCKING SONG!? SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND!" BUT REALLY CLIFF WAS SAYING, "YOU WANT THAT JAMIE-FOXX-WMD-SHIT? BEST BUY AT BEST BUY, D-BAGS!" HE EVEN PUT OUT THAT MIXTAPE WITH DRAMATIC AND CALLED IT THE FUCKING "LEAK." LOL! BUT THEN KING CAME OUT AND WE ALL NODDED AND LISTENED TO IT AND PRETENDED IT WAS BETTER THAN IT WAS! MY FUCKING PARADIGM SHIFTED. WHAT YOU KNOW ABOUT A MILLION AND A HALF SOUNDSCAN?
ANYWAY, I HEARD THAT THE KINGDOM COME I HEARD IS NOT THE REAL SHIT. OR THAT YOU ARE GOING TO BE MIXING SOME CAM BEEF IN WITH THEM GRIMEY-ASS CRATE AND BARREL CUTS. WELL, AT LEAST THAT'S WHAT THE INTERNET TOLD ME.
I'M JUST ONE IRISH-JEW IN THIS FUCKING COLD WORLD, DUN. YOU COULD MAKE A RAP OPERA WITH SHOWBIZ & AG AND THAT STILL WOULDN'T DIG YOU OUT OF, "WE HAD TO SPLIT UP LIKE BEN AND J-LO." DID YOU SCRIBBLE THAT SHIT ON A COCKTAIL NAPKIN AT SOHO HOUSE IN 2002!?!!? DID YOUR BOOTLEGGER JUST GIVE YOU COPY OF JERSEY GIRL!?!? THERE'S A WAR GOING ON OUTSIDE, B!
IF THIS SHIT ABOUT THE FAKE LEAK IS TRUE, I HOPE IT MEANS YOU'RE DROPPING THE "MILKSHAKE (FIRE ISLAND REMIX)" USHER SHIT. THAT SHIT IS FELONIOUS.
BY THE WAY, HDNET IS UP A POINT AND A HALF. HOLLER AT YOUR E-TRADE WEED CARRIER. YOU FUCKER.

CALCULATE THE JUMP TO HYPER-SPACE

TO: S-DOT
FROM: THE WHITE DUDE WHO WROTE BLEEK'S BIO
RE: YOU GOING BACK TO ST. BART'S

JAY- THIS IS CALLED, "SPACESHIPS ON BANKHEAD." I DIDN'T NOTICE ANY OPPORTUNITIES FOR PRODUCT PLACEMENT (OTHER THAN POSSIBLY DRUGS…AND SPACESHIPS) OR ANGLES WHERE YOU COULD CROSS-PROMOTE THIS SONG WITH NASCAR. BUT IT IS STILL SOMETHING YOU MAY WANT TO TAKE NOTE OF AS A FINE EXAMPLE OF "RAP MUSIC" THAT "RAP LISTENERS" MIGHT "LIKE" AND "PLAY MORE THAN ONCE" FOR OTHER REASONS THAN "MAKING THEMSELVES RECONSIDER THEIR YOUTH."

ANGLE THE DEFLECTOR SHIELDS.