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    The White Rapper Show: Rabbit Run
    Wednesday. 2.21.07 9:27 pm
    Oh, what I would have given to see the new-superstar Jon Boy in this episode instead of Powder.

    This week on “ego trip’s The White Rapper Show,” our crowded three journey from the Mecca of all hip-hop (no pun intended), to the city that has over the years become the “Mecca of White Hip-Hop.” If Jus Rhyme, Shamrock or John Brown are to make a Rabbit run, it’s gotta go through Detroit.

    From the moment I heard they were going to Detroit, I had the strangest feeling they were going to Saint Andrew’s to get their asses handed to them.

    After a brief John Brown/Shamrock Prison Peace Summit by the bunk beds, we observe a true-to-life cost of being a VH1 buffoon. Fixing the scope of his AR-15 at the $100,000 prize instead of rolling with the notoriety that would have come to him in already having excelled so far in this nationally televised “competition” (i.e. Persia), Jus Rhyme spurns his PhD grant in Colored Liberation and Salvation Studies to chase his new dream of becoming the next white rapper MC Serch Shanghais in the cold, cold industry.

    Powder putting his entire educational future on the line for this shit proves him to be an even bigger shithead than I initially thought. You know you’re fuckin up something terrible when John Brown has that concerned face as he advises you. “Just not the wisest move, man.”

    Actually, let me have that one back. That face could either have been concern or John Brown’s general discomfort “around too many white people.” Ghetto Revival, baby! Hallelujah, Holla back!

    Bringing these assclowns to “The Mecca of White Hip-Hop” to pay homage to the likes of Eminem and Kid Rock is akin to bringing a bacon egg and cheese to the mosque on 127th & Lenox. Not only are they not welcome, but they are sacrilege in the eyes of the city that molded those Caucasoid champions. Besides, Jus Rhyme got a white woman pork face. The bar has actually been raised since the early 90s. I’m surprised Serch of all people couldn’t come through there with a trio of rappers that he might be able to beat in a battle himself.

    At the site of the once integral Hip-Hop Shop, TJ the Trouble Man gave the white rappers a little history on the establishment (turned lingerie shop) and the Detroit scene. "Eminem, yadda, Proof, namedrop, blah blah, yadda…" Did that nigga say Maurice Malone was pumpin his shit out of there? Damn, that gives me a tad more respect for the nigga with them terrible underwear ads of the late 90s.

    Ironically, hip-hop music itself is now a lingerie shop-- A collection of panty-drawers and a complete farce of what it once was and could have been. If they wanted to bring this shit full circle, they should have hung John Brown up on a rack next to a tried-on thong.

    I don’t have much to say about ICP except them motherfuckers really look like some disgruntled molester birthday clowns. Their makeup jobs are supposed to be the scary part, but I’m more alarmed at how they just talk to people normally like they don’t have that shit on. I wonder if they “clown up” every morning before they start their days. Do they have makeup artists on site? Oh, the questions that arise.

    Later, talking to Kid Rock, as former Mr. Anderson-Lee explained the ills of growing up the lone white kid in a circle of hostile silverbacks Serch is like “Nah, they wasn’t takin my chain. I paid entirely too much for protection for some shit like that to happen.”

    After the jewels of wisdom from Detroit rap legends, the rapster barbecue is interrupted by an eclectic group of classic Midwestern weird folk (which are different from the weird folk of other regions in their own special way). For example, shit heard at the gathering include but are not limited to: “Uh, oh. Here comes Tupac! He sometimes he’ll sneak up behind me and start fucking me in the ass when I’m doing my yard work. You boys had better be careful.” “Ain’t no shame in my game. I’ll warm a sausage or two.” And of course, lest we forget “I’m trynna promote this uh, fishin!”

    A soiree like that would propel me to pursue racial harmony as well, Jus! However, them 15 Anti-Racist Principles that comprise AR-15 are highly disturbing. They are creepy, whiny, roundabout, redundant and don’t express to me that anyone involved with the organization has any serious plan to make a difference by doing anything but whining self-hatred to whoever would be stupid enough to fucking listen.

    “Study legacies of resistance?” “Sustain an anti-racist culture?” “Choke on my own dick?” What the fuck does it mean, Jus?

    The only thing that held my attention through the "Marshall's Law" media blowjob challenge was the anticipation of the prize. You know how they like to play on words all the time. I thought when dude said “A very, very hefty prize” he was gonna pull some Majin-Buu lookin’ broad out or something. You know these ego trip people don’t know how to act!

    Jus Rhyme was salty when he didn’t get picked by King of the Burbs and Champion of Eminem Interview Knowledge. Still, he relished the opportunity to devise anti-racist principles in solitude back at the “How White People Really Be Livin’” house. That trailer reeks of bologna and welfare. I can tell.

    Jus’ monologue to the camera parallel’s Dave Chappelle’s "8 Mile" sketch entirely too well.

    I don’t know if he was going for “School of Mexico” but Mr. Serchlite is definitely trying to show these kids how to “hate” in preparation for being slaves thrown into the coliseum only to catch a rousing thumbs down. By his approach, I can tell Serch caught that "Mad Ciphas" marathon on BCAT and MNN public access cable networks.

    Quote of the Day: “You left this outside! Ohhhhh!” *tosses police t-shirt* - Jus Rhyme (see, even Jus hates snitches!)

    I know I ain’t been to Detroit to see my folk in a while, but I know for a fact y’all got better niggas than them Cardi Boys to bring to the battle table. They ain’t horrible, but they ain’t say Eminem, One Man Army (who goes by OneBeLo these days), nothing… I’d rather have seen them battle the Cheddar Boyz. At least the battles would have been somewhat entertaining. The crowd acted like the locals ripped it, but from what I heard, both sides should have been booed off stage.

    If Shamrock had any composure, he wouldn’t be so bad. Unfortunately, to an MC, that’s like saying if New York wasn’t so plastic, horse-like and whorish she’d be fuckable. That Gatorade “it” that needs to be in you to perform at a high level in moments like this… Shamrock doesn’t have. It’s a shame, because from day one, he’s the one I wanted to root for. However, I don’t feel right pumping a rapper that doesn’t believe in himself.

    I have to admit, Jus Rhyme’s problem is not lack of heart. In fact, the clown is quite courageous and I commend him for that. Unfortunately, when you can’t rap worth shit AND are a complete corn ball I can’t pump you up at this level either. Go listen to some black people rap; loosen up your bandana and come back when you’re done with school.

    Damn. White people need to get their shit together. Stay in school!

    I’ll give you one more jewel for that cloudy brain of yours John. You can’t call a nigga an “Uncle Tom” and ridicule him about being harassed in the burbs. People can usually tell the difference between one who is joking and being clever and one who is speaking out of his milky ass in complete ignorance. Once again, you are the latter. I’d like to meet the “serious people from the street” that support your jackassery.

    With that said, these kids were put into a very tough situation and stood strong. I’ve watched people get their asses handed to them in that very hall growing up. It’s nerve-wracking even for a teenage spectator. My hat does go off to the contestants for not crying, running away, collapsing or calling anyone the n-word. (That’s what I do when I’m frustrated. I just call everyone in the immediate vicinity the n-word.)

    They still suck though.

    Jus Rhyme’s pre-elimination WWF Saturday morning hype speech was pathetic and indicative of why it was obvious that he wasn’t gonna get a chain from Flavor Flav to stick around the house a little more. Goldie deserved it anyway. Still, out of the remaining finalists, I still don’t see a champion in this regard. We’ll have a winner, but we won’t have a rap star. Sadly, Touchdown Brown and the kid who took a meathook to the face as a baby have a better chance of being America’s Next Top Model than they do being taken seriously as recording artists.

    [email protected]
    Posted by Ron Mexico at February 21, 2007 11:02 AM

    source:http://blogs.sohh.com/videos/2007/02/the_white_rappe_5.html

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