Sunday, January 23, 2005

homebwoi ft. b.g. - where they at -- sewerdeep bass undetectable on your headphones, with squelching, squeaking electronic croaks and slurps, missile command whistles, collipark music chopper city. between hiccuping, enthusiastic homebwoi verses about niggas better watch it when i'm cockin the chrome / cause i'm clumsy, i'll slip one in ya dome and b.g. menacing on the beat dropout with the beating heart and wheezing gasps, what ya heart beatin fah?? what ya heart beatin fah?? and coming with one of those slow barely rapped verses, looming on the beat with fierce chitchat, you want beef i ain't hard to find i'm everywhere
you don't be where you say you be you never there
you stuntin like you bout it bitchnigga you skeeeed
with the beat turned down, so you can hear the saliva in the corners of his mouth crackling when he opens them, lips smacking together.

geto boys ft. z-ro - when it gets gangsta -- z-ro singalong deepcroon on the hook "when it get gaaangstuhhhh," halftalking in the question, "will these motherfuckers ride or die?" and "bitchnigga you ain't no soldier you gon hide and cry," convenient to add fee on to ghostwriting check. willie d spitting deep about fat dark stormclouds rolling across azerbaijan plains and international currency markets and-- wait, no it's some real listless shit about putting a clip in a bitch as easy as a walk in the park, okay. slow, mumbled face verse fading back into sleepy and clean life of joseph w. mcvey leftover beat, sounding like falling asleep music, falling asleep on sunday afternoon with warm sunshine coming in through the window after a big lunch, thick and dumb and satisfied, the sound of fat flies slapping against hot window in the background.

gucci manne ft. young jeezy and boo - icy -- beautiful scrunchyclickydirty beat sounding like old houston, including fat man bellowing on the hook ALL THESE GIRLS EXCITED OOOH YOU KNOW THEY LIKE I'M SO IIIIICYYYYYY SOOOO IIIIIICYYYYYYY, and funny, triumphant southern rap that's not about southern rap, full of grinning braglines.
jeezy, kinda doing flip, even down to imitation of his incredulous squealing at himself in the background and asking if we got the line: got a house around my neck and my wrist on chill
any given time two fifty in the grill
(A QUARTER MILLION?????)
you better act like you know, man
in my hood they call me jeezy the snowman
(YA GET IT??)
jeezy the snowman! i'm iced out, plus i got snow, man!
gucci, enthusiastic as hell on it, every bar needing an exclamation mark: ahhhhh young gucci manne
don't kiss me baby, you can kiss my chain
ahhhhh you gotta be a dimepiece
just to look at the rocks in my timepiece
uhhhhh i come through in a droptop jag
or a oldschool chevy with the antique tags
my pockets so heavy that i can't walk steady
niggas coppin ice we done done it already
boo, the goofy kid on the closeout, bouncy midwest flow but outbragged by southern flossing, talking about guns and girls.

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