December 6, 2011
An Ode to the Expenditure of Funds, Also Referring in Part to a Notable Criminal Syndicate

Sometimes, I like to write wordier versions of rap songs. I’ve published a few on Facebook, and figured Tumblr might like to see them as well. 

This one is “BMF,” by Rick Ross.

Hello.

Allow me to clear my laryngeal passages.

With that achieved, let us begin.

(Chorus)

Gentlemen, I have encountered a fairly severe confusion of identities. It appears that at times i believe myself to be Big Meech, as well as Larry Hoover. I compare myself to the individuals in particular because we have in common a certain enthusiasm for distributing illegal substances, committing violent crimes, and above all obtaining nefariously gained funds. We have been actively involved in the latter for an extended period of time.

(Mr William Roberts)

My Rolls-Royce sedan is of a tenebrous hue, both inside and out. It is my means of conveyance to all manner of nightclubs, at which i purchase a great deal of Champagne and discuss my criminal exploits. These activities are common enough for me that an alternative moniker for me has been devised, namely “Rick Rozay.” I daresay that I have been involved in the drug trade for long enough that it has surreptitiously made intravenous inroads on my person. My authenticity is not to be challenged, especially by somebody who lacks credibility himself. I would like to provide an interesting anecdote, if I may. A gentleman fitting the previous description was naive enough to claim that he was the exclusive paramour of a certain lady, while all the while I had been having sexual intercourse with her. When I enter any room, I am accompanied by gentlemen with felonious backgrounds, all of whom can vouch for the purity of my personal reserve of cocaine, which justifies its added cost.

(Chorus)

My enemies envy my abundant jewels and considerable wealth. I have been known to spend undeclared money in a manner visible to the federal government, risking my security in order to flaunt my resources. If you are inclined to doubt my credibility or my expenditures, I urge you to consider my wristwatch. It is an Audemars-Piguet, and came to me at no small cost, I assure you. Again, I am both wealthy and formidable in combat, and my wealth is due to my proficiency in the illicit sectors of my area’s economy. This coposition is dedicated to my compatriots and co-conspirators, whether they be of affluent or impoverished stock. Those who convey information to law enforment are to be reviled, and to discourage this behavior I have paid a sizeable sum to have an individual guilty of such skulduggery slain.

(Chorus)

(Mr David Styles)

If a gentleman of any description chooses to defy me, I shall promptly shoot him thirty-six times, to pay tribute to the similar number of ounces in a kilogram. I enjoy smoking marijuana, and under its influence performing dangerous stunts in my customized Japanese all-terrain vehicle. An added benefit of this pastime is the profuse opportunity to dispense projectiles from my submachine gun towards bystanders. My associates and I are accomplished marksmen, and wield powerful revolvers as well as the aforementioned automatic weapon. In addition to this already sizeable arsenal, we possess high-capacity magazines for our guns, enabling us to open fire for extended periods of time, and thus adding to our potential impact on our enemies’ numbers. I have demonstrated notable proficiency in the sale of illegal substances, and as such have gained enough capital that if I desire, I may recline upon its surface as if it were furniture.

(Chorus)

November 5, 2011

UGH…There he go, that’s Adam Richman,

There he go, that’s Adam Richman,

There he go, that’s Adam Richman,

Catch him making faces all up in your kitchen

Mozzarell’…. Adam Richman,

Crab legs….Adam Richman,

That dude eating wings, that’s Adam Richman.

That dude eating ribs, that’s Adam Richman

I’m still ballin’ like I’m Guy Fieri,

UGH,

I’m still ballin’ like I’m Guy Fieri,

I ate a platter full of chili dogs.

UGH, I ate a platter full of chili dogs.

I ate a steak….that shit paid fo’.

I drank shakes…them shits paid fo’.

Drama school…that shit made fo’

Man Vs. Food, throw it on the table,

Ayyo, you know I got that A-1,

Steak sauce; adds a bit of flavor,

Ugh,

Eat burritos like it’s no thang,

Ten grilled cheese sandwiches, I got no shame,

We in the kitchen; I check out fresh meat,

Any kind of food’s bound to impress me

My drink’s emp-ty,

Better re-fresh me,

You know my name, bitch….Adam Richman.

Mozzarell’…. Adam Richman,

Crab legs….Adam Richman,

That dude eating wings, that’s Adam Richman.

That dude eating ribs, that’s Adam Richman

I’m still ballin’ like I’m Guy Fieri,

UGH,

I’m still ballin’ like I’m Guy Fieri,

I ate a platter full of chili dogs.

UGH, I ate a platter full of chili dogs.

I know the deal….I’m not an actor,

Triple decker sandwiches, I attack ‘em,

They taste great, I try and stack ‘em

I’m filming episodes, don’t try and reenact ‘em!

Ugh, reporting live from my tour bus,

Restaurant staff tries to endure us,

Inspect food, holler twice :”Oh my goodness!”

When we out to lunch, know them tacos for us.

Sundaes taller than a bulldozer,

Bathroom trips and fried chicken when we pull over,

Aviators on, mics and cameras in the room.

Asked me ‘bout the show, I told ‘em “Man vs. Food.”

Mozzarell’…. Adam Richman,

Crab legs….Adam Richman,

That dude eating wings, that’s Adam Richman.

That dude eating ribs, that’s Adam Richman

I’m still ballin’ like I’m Guy Fieri,

UGH,

I’m still ballin’ like I’m Guy Fieri,

I ate a platter full of chili dogs.

UGH, I ate a platter full of chili dogs.

October 25, 2011

Make The Trap Aye, “Megamix”

This is a swell beat.

October 21, 2011

Nice use of the ominous stage whisper here. Ross should do it more often.

October 17, 2011

"Moving how I move, I fuck with a selective few/Aviators and Audemars, the bezel fluorescent blue."

October 13, 2011
This is a part of being a boss that is seriously underestimated.  I can honestly and unequivocally say that I endorse this activity with all my heart. 

I hope that someday, I will have reached a level of greatness that allows me to eat cereal on the porch like a boss does.

This is a part of being a boss that is seriously underestimated.  I can honestly and unequivocally say that I endorse this activity with all my heart. 

I hope that someday, I will have reached a level of greatness that allows me to eat cereal on the porch like a boss does.

(Source: desmondadebayo, via le-dopeness-deactivated20120115)

October 13, 2011
"…Order more shrimp."

— Rick Ross

October 1, 2011

People don’t acknowledge Rick Ross’s lyrical ability as much as they should.  Yes, his themes are pretty consistent from song to song, but that’s the beauty of it.  He raps very well about the good life; the truly good life, and not a stamped-out and fabricated image based on what 50 Cent and his buddies did ten years ago. This is the mentality that brought us visions of “fine fish, with a slight lime twist,” and turned “Rose (best written in this context as “Ro-zay)” into a rap meme of sorts. 

His flow and structure are often also passed over in favor of the booming proclamations he tends to make on songs such as “B.M.F.” and “M.C. Hammer.”  While it’s easy to chant along to “I think I’m Big Meech/Larry Hoover” in a club setting, it’s a little more difficult to follow something like this passage from the included song:

"Kilograms were the key to my success/I apologize, being so discreet with my conects/Lamborghinis were figments of my imagination/Who would have figured the figures this figure would be making?"

Or this one, a personal favorite, from “Yacht Club:”

"Kill all the middlemen, I’m the militant Gilligan/Speaking Creole with gentlemen, as I cruise the Caribbean."

The internal rhyme schemes, assonance, and consonance in these lines are superb. There’s a lack of self-consciousness there, too, that few rappers have. Ross sometimes veers into the nonsensical, like a more literate and precise Cam’ron. He presents himself as a larger-than life figure, transcending conventional body-image mores by doffing his shirt whenever possible to flaunt his prodigious gut, and this comes through in his music. He simply is who he is, and is a better rapper for it.

In short, listen to more Rick Ross. Listen closely, though. The reason he’s famous is only one of the reasons he’s good.

September 30, 2011

I think I’ve reverse-engineered the recipe for this music video and its intro:

DJ Khaled has T-Pain build a time machine for him (T-Pain is a “magic science robot,” after all), and goes back in time to when he was 9. Some advanced mechanism in the machine enables Khaled to subvert the Novikov self-consistency principle and interact normally with his younger self. He then uses the 75 pounds of marijuana that the same mechanism allowed him to bring back in time, sharing it with Child Khaled and brainstorming with him in order to conceive the idea for a music video that contains “everything that is super awesome.” This accounts for the seemingly context-less “cool catchphrase,” the MacGuffin briefcase, the jump through the plate-glass window, and the ethnically ambiguous Asian crime syndicate, as well as the fact that none of the escape vehicles actually seem to have any place to go except to the next, more extravagant mode of transportation.

Apparently, their plans to include a dinosaur in the video fell through, but they made up for it with all of the CGI explosions in “Out Here Grindin’.”

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