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My friend, blogmaster of Myurbanreport.com http://myurbanreport.blogspot.com/ and journalist for Black Family Channel— A.man.I hit the streets last week (February 7th-8th) with Nashville, TN Bad Boy,Young Buck, while filming his latest video “Get Bucked” which is from his sophomore effort "Buck the World." Atlanta's own DJ Polo produced the head nodding track. When asked to describe the feel of his newest track Buck said:
"It's one of those records; it has a lot of energy. It's got a band theme," Buck said from the set on the first night of shooting. "It's one of those party records, and to me, I like to compare it to Fifty Cent's "In The Club," but ten more notches up,"
The music video was directed by Bernard Gourley, and rappers Lil' Scrappy, C-Bo, Hot Rod, Rich Boy, and DJ Polo made cameo appearances. Students from Atlanta's Mt. Zion High School were also featured in several scenes, along with members of Clark Atlanta University's Omega Psi Fi fraternity.
Sha Money XL, President of G Unit records said the album will drop on March 20th and said, it's "incredible."
My dude A.man.I.’s new blog is slowly gaining momentum. I personally had the opportunity to meet him while at that horrible Young Jeezy “secret concert” debacle and we instantly clicked. He’s bringing a fresh new edge to the world of blogging by fusing his journalistic skills and field reporting knowledge together like no one I’ve ever seen.
He’s graciously provided sohh.com with exclusive behind the scenes video footage of Young Buck’s latest video. Look out for more collaborations between myself and A.man.I. in the future.
Thanks again bruh!
In related G-Unit news.
The beef between G-Unit and The Diplomats is reaching a fever pitch. As previously reported by SOHH, "Funeral Music" opens with a hearse rolling by with the words "Cam'ron's Career" on it and later mimics both Jim Jones' "We Fly High" as well as mocking the incident in which Cam's blue Lamborghini was shot up during Howard University's homecoming weekend on Washington,D.C.
True to Hip-Hop battle form, Cam has taken several shots at 50 including his appearance, rhyming, "He looks like a gorilla, with rabbit teeth." Cam also shouts out who he feels is a "real" dude from Queens, Kenneth "Supreme" McGriff with lines like "he ran from police/you run with police/you ain't from South Side/ 'bout to get your mouth wide." Full Story Here
This week on “The White Rapper Show” John Brown, Jus Rhyme, Persia and Shamrock explore their inner gully in a series of challenges that, once again, test not their prowess and potential as MCs, but perpetuate the harmful stereotypes and idiosyncrasies of the ghetto.
Oh, yeah… and they got their asses handed to them on Hot 97, which is NOT a Clear Channel station, by the way.
Jus Rhyme in the morning symposium took the form of Xandir from Drawn Together. For those of you just joining us, Jus is on a lifelong quest to save his girlfriend, and rap from the white man.
Serch really tossed his mozzarella sticks into the deep fryer this time. Miss Jones, looking fresh out the BBW video, wasn’t about to accept any bullshit from these kids (or Ego Trip, or VH1 for that matter). Imagine if Star and Bucwild were still there! Okay, let’s not. That shit would have been messier than it already was.
See... A freestyle challenge would be great for a collection of MCs, but these kids can barely get through a 16 that they write and rehearse for 30 minutes. These kids officially can’t show their faces anywhere after this Hot “107” debacle. That touchdown cipher truly played out like a group of retards trying to hump a doorknob… and failing.
John Brown may have taken his marketing strategy too far. Didn’t Mr. Empowerment Zone say his clown ass was based out of Brooklyn? Shouldn’t this simpleton then know that Miss Jones would eat his narrow ass like a Grand Slam Breakfast?
I think it’s safe to say that my speculation was amiss. I guess Persia doesn’t want John Brown’s little viceroy in her white castle. In fact, no one’s wanted anything to do with our special boy in quite some time.
That is, no one except the one contestant more desperate for attention and acceptance, Powder.
That moose head bit was pretty funny, but man, looking at a grown man geek out like that is disturbing. That was some serious “I Am Sam” shit.
So, after completely destroying their hopes of being respected rap figures on the biggest rap radio station in the known universe, Serch dresses the kids in the finest thug fashions and immediately inserts them into the real-life version of Grand Theft Auto III. As the challenge began, I was so past criticizing the reverse coonery that all I could think was “Damn, they suckered Just Blaze AND Saigon into this shit?”
As I, of course, ponder the societal relevance of what I’m watching like the Negro Freedom Writer that I am, I observe the saddest piece of television this program has produced: The Thug Disclaimer.
Oh, yes, I of all people, understand the importance of the disclaimer. Trust me. However, a disclaimer does not absolve you or your company of responsibility for what you produce for the mass public. When your program, which is supposed to cultivate rappers, does nothing more than make a mockery of the musical genre, culture and the kids who have put their lives on hold for the carrot you dangle, you are definitely still on the hook. No cheeky disclaimer can put you in the clear.
“I hope y’all got that.”
While Jus Rhyme bust his ass on a bicycle in a manner I hadn’t seen since I was 9, the combination of summer sun, poor conditioning and pernil damn near killed The Queen of Queens. I guess the rule applies. Just because you can catch a case doesn’t mean you’re built for the urban jungle. Being that we’d seen Persia carted off in an ambulance in various commercial spots, most of us knew what was on the other side of the commercial break when homegirl went to purify herself in the waters of Lake Minnetoilet.
GTA champion Jus Rhyme had the opportunity to select any remaining contestant with him to his prize “A Thug’s Night Out” with N.O.R.E., who was quickly bored with both clown-asses. For those of you who don’t speak the dun language, N.O.R.E.’s words and body language translate as such:
“Aight. We were gonna bring y’all with us to the club and maybe to a house party after that, but we can’t be seen in public with you bitches. Y’all can finish off this champagne and cookies. I’m gonna go get my dick sucked. Peace.”
What makes all of the above even more awesomely awesome? NONE OF THAT SHIT factored into elimination!
After running around like assholes, catching cases and having heart attacks, they are told that shit was purely for the amusement of the viewing public. I’d have been ready to kill me an MC Serch. Sometimes I rub my eyes in disbelief that Prince Paul is involved in this buffoonery.
The true challenge came in the kids having to write thugged-out nursery rhymes. Persia seized this challenge as an opportunity to shank John Brown in the shower and fucked it up something terrible. Once again, all that bark and Persia couldn’t bring a damn thing to the table. I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was. She and Sullee have been choking on the black dildo since day one, but damn. I really expected her to gun up with all the bacon on the line.
I guess John Brown gets the last laugh and his claim of Persia only having 3 verses rings true.
With that said… I’ve never had a synthetic dick on my lips.
Fellas, (and some ladies), I got the new pictures from Deelishus’s new magazine spread. The powers that be over at Smooth Magazine liked Dee Dee so much that they gave her two covers for the special ‘Live In Jamaica’ issue.
Here is the first set. I will post the rest of them tomorrow!
Talk to y'all lata,
-SOHH Gyant!
Posted by SOHH Gyant at February 20, 2007 7:15 AM
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.
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Posted by Ron Mexico at February 21, 2007 11:02 AM
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