Thursday, March 24, 2005

master p ft. drumma boy - there they go -- with that spooky n.o. beat under it with exhaling/inhaling choir and the deepdeep bass undercarriage: "ghetto bill could never be no stunna, nigga / but i got cars for the winter and summer, nigga / you don't know me keep my name out your MOTHERFUCKIN MOUTH / fore i send some motherfuckin killers to your house / the game get real so niggas pack steel / when some shit pop off you better get it how you live / we see em but we don't give a fuck about snitches / we in the club v.i.p. fingerfuckin some bitches." and, shit, imagine that delivered in haggardest, grimiest vintage percy miller voice, torn up throat, commanding and raw. and p brings in his replacement for curren$y, another accentless goofy southerner with east coast punchline approach, drumma boy, who's rapping over his own beat: "YEP!! i'm the truth, you the other man / you think you're hot but i'll cool you like an oven fan / i got them broads sayin 'you so wicked' / straight from south, man NEW NO LIMIT."

lil flip & z-ro - burbanz and lacs -- from that ridiculous rap-a-lot flip/ro album dropped this week. not a jack of the master p track, except the title-- i don't think, at least. or maybe a vague, overclean interpretation: in-house rap-a-lot producers taking that sad, raw 808 bang and snap track and updating with some unclear vision of the future like a 1950s concept car, bubble domes and turbines engines, vicious fiberglass fins. now, compare and contrast. flip: using his wearied, serious tone, drifting inside of sixteen bars from still shedding tears over dead friends to personal wealth disses with no names attached to cheap threats mixed with sleepy weed/cars description. ro: flipping it from grim and slow to doubletime emphasis. and always responding with hurt surprise to the beef, genuinely confused by the fakeness of people he thought were real, wondering why they flipped on him. and running over his lifestory again and waking up to the present and giving his praises to god because he has more blessings than burdens and cars to rap about, hide behind limousine tint and platinum skin in. flip gently singing the hook, "we ride burbans and lacs / black, yellow or blue / that's the only way we ride / choppin blades like screw / i'm the king of the clover, z-ro the mo city don / and all we do is get paper where i'm from."

(bonus: listenin to dj screw, just raced a lexus... master p ft. lil gotti and silkk - burbans and lacs from ghetto d, eight years ago, classic album, classic track.)

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