Takes Two To Tango, But It Takes The Whole Mix Hut To Do This
Purple City: The Purple Album
Holy living fuck does somebody need to make a Baltimore house poster about this album. If there's one thing I've ever needed more of, it's more Agallah, hanging out in the purple city, rapping about stuff. Razah! So here's the truth about the PC's TA: bananas. Un Kasa is a man. Angry about his lesser role in Killer Season ("Seven minutes, yeah, definitely Kas. You're like the next Hell Writer," said Cam), he bum rushed Jeezy's listening session on the roof. He aired it out on Slam. He's not a man. This is a serious problem. Really. I've got four years of urban planning so I'm sniffing for slum clearance. Broken windows theory or not, I'm not forseeing any white flight to the Purple Suburbs. Did we mention D-Dot Angelettie lays his nuts on the dresser? Just his nuts. And Shiest Bub comes thru and bashes them shits with his brain piece. And we're not talking about his cock. We're talking about his cerebellum. Literally. He was gettin' some head. Get it? Basically, dudes fuck. Like, lots of groupies, who fuck. Cause it's Purp City ya'll. Shiest Bub, Agallah, that third dude that no one can remember? Dudes fuck. You know, while rocking Cam's madscrewface, that one he wears while dry-humping through gym shorts. Ya dig? But besides that point, these dudes eat crack and spit death. D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-Damn.