20060526

You Retire Out When You Die Out

Uncle Murder: Murdera! (Produced by DJ Green Lantern)
On My New York Shit

So, yeah, uh, dude's name is Uncle Murder. Question: Is this a title? Like when you called that kid "Motherfucker" in 5th grade and he responded by saying, "Heh, yea, I fucked your mother." Oooh, that guy. Does Uncle Murder only murder uncles? Cuz I have this Uncle Juniper in South Carolina he may want to holler at. Does he murder avuncular beats? "Harlem Streets," the "Hill Street Blues" shit from Purple, ahem, Haze is definitely on some sipping-on-a-Molson, laying-in-the-hammock while I'm forced to kick a damn soccer ball around with his lunatic toddler son and pretend he's good at soccer (He isn't.)

Actually, check that. The real question is, when Uncle Murder blows up and signs to Papoose's label or whatever ("Vowel Violence Entertainment Inc.") does he drop the 'Murder' from his name or the 'Uncle'? Middle Amerigo Vespucci obviously can't handle 'Murder' in a guy's name. But are we, as a people, prepared to hail an Uncle? He can never, ever be "the father of yo style." That's automatically a bad look if he's beefing with Maino and Red Cafe and Joell Ortiz in '09 (we'll all be dead by then, nuclear-ized by end-of-tape buster mixtape MCs in a swift, 'Scanners'-style mind-blow. Especially when these guys learn the word 'alliteration.' That's when the Four Horseman of the Rapocalypse -- Kay Slay, Cutmaster C, Ethan Padgett and Bob Christgau -- descend and show us "that New York shit," which is actually just a tote bag full of shit.)

He should just change his name to Uncle Rape.

20060525

Snack Bunghole

Stack Bundles: They Riot
DJ Pudgee P & Stack Bundles: Riot's That Gang

My computer's retarded at the moment, and sendspace never works for me, so I'm not posting the track sorry. But look. Haze, Stack Bundles is your Papoose--this guy's a clown with a choppy breathy flow and no charisma and barely the 8th or 9th best shaved face in rap. And that name, jesus. He is what he does! He does what he is! Just like Papoose.

So here's what I'm thinking. Let's get Stacks a website on the internet. It'll be one of those sitemeter type sites, but exclusively for rap blogs and Brooklyn Vegan, so: Stat Bundles. We can stick a .com on that, a .org, .biz, whatever. I want it to be called Stat Bundles, Stack can figure out the rest. From there we give the rap blog community what they want: hit counts. "How many hits did my rap blog get today?" (I just said this in the voice of David Drake.) "I better check my stat bundles."

On normal sitemeters they have a link you can click on which shows you all of the referring links, the ones driving traffic to your rap blog. This is where StatBundles.tk will beat out the competition. When you click the "came from" link over at Stat Bundles--also, and this is thinking ahead, I would like to get t-shirts made that say "Stat Snitching"--you get a call from the real Stack Bundles on the telephone. He is outside your apartment and it is raining, and he wants to come in. He drinks all your beer, then he tells you: All your hits are from Fluxblog.

Ever Play Tetris?

Playaz Circle [ft. Ludacris]: Gucci Bag (Sparks Fly Remix)
Southern Conference

Gucci Duffel Bags. Louis Knapsacks. Versace Clutches. Manhattan Portage Messenger Bags. Motherfuck rappers and their multifarious methods of conveyance. I'm with H-to-the-iz-aze: Whither a JanSport, mf's? Besides, we'd be silly to believe You Rappers would allow yourselves to be seen carrying a bag in your hand in public, let alone a bag filled with things (Case in point: Baggage Handlers). We know the deal. Who carries important shit in a bag anymore? Think your local Mixhut wdsmith's bags are filled with mixtapes? Nope. More bags.

Entire songs are now dedicated to the art of freight and, with no abatement in sight, such purse-porn threatens to spin out of control. But we on this. Mix Hottt's spent the past 3 months crouched in a crawl space behind a false wall at Amadou's, eating dumplings and eavesdropping on our mans constant chirps-back to hold you down with this exclusive glimpse at the weeks/months ahead in rap baggery.
  • Nas, "Bag of Rhymes" - A book of rhymes being inconvenient in the main, Nas raps about his Def Jam fanny pack, where new rhymes are stored and, later, easily accessed. Sample lyric: "Have a peek into my bag of rhymes."
  • Juelz Santana, "Fun Dip" - The Flesh That Is Crack reveals new Dip Gear for the mid-'06 DipsetMixtapes relaunch. More a satchel really, or one of those bags-on-a-stick bums rocked in cartoons (design still pending), Juelz's Bag'o'Crack would have thousands of little monogrammed dope sacks all over it, in keeping with Juelz's lyrical transparency. Sample lyric: "My dope sack's a dope sack with dope sacks / stitched in black-black / Plus, trust: I fuck lots of sex."
  • Lil Wayne ft. Curren$y, "Paper Tiger Doll" - Weezy finds way to say something repulsive about B(ring)Y(our)O(wn)B(ag) picnics. Curren$y attempts to rap his way out of Wayne's paper bag with no luck. It's stuffed with "bitches."
  • Rick Ross, "My Block, My Beard" - Wherein Ross reveals his beard doubles as an ingenious form of barf bag. Sample lyric: "My beard is the real Manuel Noriega [vomiting sounds]."
  • Papoose, "P-L-A-S-T-I-C Man" - Pap intricately raps about the molecular composition of the plastic bag he's wearing over his head. Suffocates, dies at end of song.

Twinkle Twinkle

Jim Jones: We Fly High
Summer Was Fun

He did it. He fucking did it. I think Haze owes me a case of Honest Tea. Fact: Blanco doesn’t rap. No game-spitting here. He admits this. He's a businessman (man) and a grimy one at that. Fact: Goon-In-Charge has the second-best adlibs in rap. Really. See the remixed remix take on "Get 'Em Daddy," where he bombs in not with his first line (is there a first line?) but with the "my life's on the line and I'm going out shooting!" Goonies shout. Catchdubs brought that exact part back four or five times so it must be pretty fucking hectic. Sticking with "Daddy," fast-forward to the outro, with more of the best "I'm building the building" sonic tic in hip-hop: Dude's unstoppable "huh" hiccup. Is he nervous? Is it a mini-laugh? At himself? At Mix Hott[t]? Probably.

Getting his bird on while saying "wha?" to rap while embracing his call-back calling. Finally. Morons will deem it an unmixed pre-release rip but those in the know smile as the verses sneak by nearly inaudible. "What did that guy say?" says Rick Ross, genuinely puzzled. Then, the reactionary libs arrive--and get very loud: "You know last summer, that summer sure was fun (BALLERS!)" or "Remember when Cam fucks up and likens weed to a 'Hyundai' instead of a 'Honda' in Killa Season (MONEY AIN'T A THING!)." It's like a revolution in a bottle. Or a quarter water. It's like a backwashed quarter water barrel that tastes way better the second time around.

20060523

Mr. Amoco Got The Pumps

Young Joc And The Boy Short: I'm So Fly
DJ Drama - Welcome To My Block

I'm gonna make this real simple. Just so you don't have to think anymore.

Joc the Ripper. Joc Frost. Joc Jams. You Don't Know Joc. Joc Strap. Joc In The Box. Joc Nicholson. Cracker Jocs. Joc KeroJoc. Joc O'Lantern. Joc Russell Terrier. Kangaroo Joc. Joc and The Beanstalk. Joc Itch. Joc Abramhoff. Joc London. Joc Spade. Samurai Joc. Joc Benny. Joc and Jill. LumberJoc. Jumpin' Joc Flash. Joc Spratt. BlackJoc. Unforgiveable Jocness: The Rise and Fall of Joc Johnson. Old Joc.

Mix it up. Go crazy.

FIN

Side note: Artist and song title actually culled from Roald Dahl's collection Danny The Champion Of The World.

20060522

Sprinkle Holy Water On Me

Busta Rhymes & Nas: Rough Around The Edges
DJ Green Lantern & DJ Kay Slay: On My New York Shit

The image of Busta, penitent and kneeling at the alter of the "New York City" cathedral, perhaps inserting his dreads in the collection plate and doing push-ups in the aisle, is too ridiculous for words. Not that I don't believe that Bussa Bus carries a few regrets. But then when you thought the scene couldn't be more deliberately reverent (I love the marketing of contrition. Let's be honest. Izzy's death is the best thing that could've happened to The Big Bang. How else would B. get to appear on the cover of VIBE last month, duct-taped and exclaiming(?) like he was on the movie poster for House Guest: The Return? ) and then this happens.

Get me. The broken glass drop couldn't have been better timed. Busta literally shatters the stained glass at St. Paul's upon his entrance. Bussa is actually inside the Kool-Aid man and they're breaking through the glass together and he's wringing out his beater into glasses and handing the glasses to the parishioners. I don't know where you do Lent, R.B. Haze, but admit you'd shine your saddle shoes for Sunday Service if you could share a kneeler with Bussa, dripping wet and filmy from 30 minutes inside Mr. Oh Yeah.

I hope they make a video of this with ghosts of Charlie Brown and Dinco D indian leg wrestling in the vestry . Also I think Hi-Tek hired actual ghouls for backup vox. Ghosts man. They're everywhere.

Side note: "Laying down with chicks with no feeling/I sleep with dead," he says. Bussa's tacit admission of necrophilia or a mild affinity for women with Congenital Insensitivity to Pain with Anhidrosis? Someone's been watching too much House.

20060521

The Definition of New York

Busta Rhymes: Definition of New York Interlude
DJ Green Lantern and DJ Kay Slay: On My New York Shit

Ya know what the fuck it is: New York shit. Now as we continue on, for all parties involved, whether you're from New York or you're from outside of New York, let me give you this definition of what New York means. The word "New"... "New" is an adjective. The word "New"... It means, having no previous example, no precedent or parallel. It also means of a kind never seen before. Bottom line is, "New" means: We are the motherfuckers that set shit off. When it was never set off ever anywhere else, we set shit off. Now. The word "York"... "York" is a noun. Them English motherfuckers created the word "York." Niggas from England, and shit. They gave it a definition that means, an English royal house. When you put the shit together, it says: "New York."