Clowns. Straight bozo. On the fo sheedo,playboy. I haven’t bought a CD since Nifty dropped The Massacre last Summer. Just wasn’t feeling hip-hop. Truly tired of hearing about the Phantom. The R&B bitches. The rims. The drive-bys. Etc. etc. etc. I rememeber when faulty MC’s couldn’t post and make mail in the hip-hop game. When Tupac made you feel something. When Biggie made you burn something. You feeling me?!
Well, something happened the other day coming home from the gym. Isn’ that the way it works? Just when you’re not expecting it, your entire perspective is shook loose and tampered with. Anyway, let me chronicle it. Like I said, before, in my opinion,hip-hop was way beyond slipping–fell and busted its ass is more accurate. But I was bumping the hip-hop station on Sirius. Station 40, to be Xact. E-40 wanted me to tell him when to go. What? Tell you when to go? I had to get another spoonful. Tell me when to go, tell me when to go!! Uh, oh. Hip-hop’s bluebirding period might just be over. Nice and new. Hyphy. New movement. Coming out of The Yay Area. The DJ was coming out of his damn skin. Then, he started playing other underground artists from the area. I found my love for hip-hop.
No swiffin’ about your pitbull looking ass having Wilt Chamberlain numbers of hotties. I knew that was bullshit from the door anyway. No frontin’ about your rented rolla. Not feeling it anyway. Nope. Not buying it, and E-40 didn’t give me any of the blase.
His album, one track after the next, is murphin’ all the plastic, faxin’ "rappers" in the hip-hop game right now.
Starts strong and gets its grown man on for all 20 tracks. Yeah, playboy–straight slumper. So anyway, if you’re tired like I was tired of the swiffin’, go get E-40’s new joint. It’s the Summer slumper. Sideways.