The Weight is Over: A TM103 Review

LaGreezy told them to straight .rar this and .zip file that.

 Three years, approximately as many mixtapes, a slew of pushed-back release dates, and presumably several bricks of cocaine later, the newest Young Jeezy album, TM: 103- Hustlerz Ambition, is available for sale at your local iTunes store. And you know, depending on how this review goes (but more importantly if the year-in, year-out tradition of getting a ten dollar iTunes gift card in my stocking holds true) I might even consider buying it there...but probably not because I already copped it off the internets for free.99. I digress.
Anyway, before we get into the mud, there's a couple of declarations that need to be made. The first is that I will try to approach the album with as clear of a mind as possible. This will be difficult for approximately two reasons: One: I'm drinking a bloody mary right now. Two: being the Jeezy stan that I am, this shit is like the best thing that's happened to me in a long time, and I even graduated college a week or two ago. But trust me, I'm more excited about this (In regards to my Jeezy stan-dom, does it make me a bad stan for getting a Brick Squad snap back and not a Snowman T-shirt? And yes, this is a real dilemma I'm going through).
The next thing I wanted to address is what the fuck is going on with that album title? Three years to come out with this shit and dude calls it 'Hustlerz Ambition'? Like phonetically, 'Husterlz' just sounds whack. Not to mention it's clearly a reference to his song 'Hustlaz Ambition' off of his 2008 effort The Recession, so why not just name it that? If Jeezy is naming albums after previously released tracks, I guess I'm he didn't go with a track title off of the As Real as It Gets mixtape: "She's a Lesbian" (Though, this time around it might have been 'Lezbian'). Don't even get me started on the fucking album art, it's miserable.

If you've made it this far, why don't you just go ahead and hit the jump to catch the track by track review.
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Erykah Badu Concert Review

A few weeks ago I attended the Erykah Badu and Friends concert here in Madrid.  I'd heard excellent things about her live performances, and I decided to find out if they were true.  Hit the jump for a thorough review.
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An Insight to my Trill Life: a Live.Love.A$AP Review

LaGreezy be that lanky motherfucker, Vashon's what I'm repping.

L

I really should be studying for the midterm I have in my business capstone class tomorrow morning. Especially when you consider the utter lack of productivity I experienced over the weekend. But when you're (still) an undergrad, it's damn near impossible to resist the allure of Halloween weekend. A celebration consisting of half-naked (or three-quarters-naked) womens running around the streets, behaving as scandalously as they are dressed. Shit is cracking.
However, now that today is actually Halloween, a new kind of distraction has presented itself; this time in the form of a free zip file.Yes, A$AP Rocky, the three million dollar man, aka "That Pretty Motherfucker", dropped his debut mixtape/album/whatever-the-fuck-they-call-musical-releases -these-days: Live.Love.A$AP.

Hit the jump for the download link and the rest of the post.

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Black and Brown

If any of you are regulars here at still.grimey you'll know that we're major Danny Brown fans. After a strong 2010 with his first album The Hybrid Brown and his record earned accolades and was considered a rising star in the Detroit and underground rap game.The Danny Brown hype train continued to rise in 2011 with offers from G-Unit(that he ultimately turned down) and various features and leaks for his second album, XXX, left fans salivating.

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A New Reality

America's Ashes

The new normal is bleak and tepid.  Unemployment hovers at nine percent,and would be YUPpies flounder in the search for the rewarding job that was promised them upon completion of college since before they could wipe their own asses.  The lack of leadership, both on a national and global scale is disturbing, and the current political system's inability to work with the long term in mind may mean that dolorous and stagnant will be the status quo for the foreseeable future.
Meanwhile, flowers blossom in the abandoned meadows of Detroit, and it seems that Motown may be set for a 21st century rebound both musically and economically. Young American women have taken the reins in the job market as well as academia.  Millions of people in the Arab world are hoping to give representative democracy a shot.  Musicians have got their souls and soul back.  These are all good things.
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Late Slummer Shlumpers.

LaGreezy prays all your pain be champagne, but if it's not, you can always alleviate it with Hennessey.

Once again, September is lingering around the proverbial corner, or happening tomorrow (if you'd prefer not to be a dickface about it). I would surmise that the majority of of our readership is close to wrapping up year one of their post collegiate life, about to really embark on it, or gearing up for another school year. With the end of September marking the beginning of the end of my college career, I have just one quarter at the illustrious University of Oregon left, and will be an Alumnus this December, I fall somewhere in between the last two groups.
In preparation for my last term as a student, I have done some soul searching, and decided that in between now and, say, September 23rd I need to have my moral compass pointed directly south. I'm trying to prepare myself to do some repugnant shit. I'm talking some getting-chopped-by-fat-bitches-in-the-bushes-behind-the-library type gully. You know, the shit some of your homeboys do just so y'all can sit around the living room the next day and laugh about it. Basically the shit that makes legends out of mere men. Kind of like the time...well, never mind. Of course there is also the chance that this paragraph is just pure hyperbole (my money's on that), because you know I'm a self-conscious mother fucker.

Hit the jump to get the free music and tracklisting (what you came for) and to keep reading (what you're stuck with).
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Why Superhero Movies Are Hit & Miss

Only Magneto could have kept Hopkins away from his computer for this long.

This summer has been devoid of surefire blockbusters at the box office, but we've been served the perfect case study for why superhero/comic movies are so hit and miss, that is the two cinematic tales of X-Men: The First Class and, about a month later, Captain America.

If you're like me, then when the trap gets hot in months six through eight you park your swass (swampy ass) right where it gets the most love, in the goddamn air conditioned movie theater. Now before you start calling me an elitist and say, "Hey man, what the fuck you fucking pompous asshole, I don't have $10 to throw down on a ticket, not to mention the popcorn that costs a fortune, plus a few shitty Twizzlers priced at about $8.50 each," my girlfriend has coupons that her mother gave me so I usually go for free.

Anyway, back to the point of this post: after the jump are the three reasons why this year's X-Men killed and the Captain was dead in the water by the end, all indicative of the larger superhero genre's success and failures.

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Why Ferrari Boyz is (iz?) More Fun than Watch The Throne.

LaGreezy reps Bric Squad. Not to be confused with Brick Squad.

In case you weren't aware, Watch the Throne wasn't the only one-two punch combo project to drop this week. Waka Flocka Flame and Gucci Mane dropped their highly anticipated Ferrari Boyz project the same day as WTT, leading people everywhere to triple up Styrofoam cups, and the inevitable comparison of the projects by bloggers everywhere; enter LaGreezy.
I'm sure as recently as a year or two ago, I would be vehemently disagreeing with the notion of this post, wondering "how could anybody rather listen to a  Gucci-Waka Collab over, you know, the God MC and the Louis Vuitton Don?" Well, younger self, prepared to be schooled, in no particular order, after the jump:

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Watch the Throne Drops, Bloggers Jizz Themselves.

At this point in time, it evidently takes something monumental to warrant a blog post from the still.grimey set; I would surmise that Jay-Z and Kanye West making an entire album together would qualify for said adjective. As an overall review of the album, I really fucking like it, despite the fact that some of my internet peers (yeah, I'm looking at you WULU) don't really like Watch The Throne because of some weird rhetoric they've established for listening to rap musics (you can see his take on shit here and here). Given Hov and Yeezy's inclination to compare themselves to Michael Jordan, it's not surprising that the album itself has striking similarities to Jordan's Hall of Fame induction speech. There's really no argument that these guys are the best in their respective categories, MJ on the hardwood, Jay in the booth (my still.grimey co-conspirators/ Nas Stans are up in arms "He's not the best, FUCK YOU GREEZY!"...fuck y'all, though), and well I think we can all acknowledge that Yeezy is on some next level shit right now, especially from a behind the boards aspect. However, it seems that they are all seemingly jaded about something still, like it's not enough to be openly acknowledged as the greatest,  that they still feel like they have to shit on their competition. I'm not complaining though, I love me some brazen asshole-ery.

It's so much fun being so rich!

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My Side Chick.

LaGreezy has a hard time subjecting himself to the confines of internet monogamy.

Chances are, if you're reading this, you might be asking yourself "Where you been mother fucker? It's been two months since we heard a word out of you". While I can't answer for Nap or JAM (though I can, Nap has been posted in the 206, on his Nintendo hustle, and we'll get to JAM momentarily), I have been holed up in libraries, (yes, plural), partying, moving, partying, traveling to visit JAM in Spain, partying,  studying in Copenhagen (I'm currently writing from the library of the Copenhagen Business School, hence the prior parenthetical reference)...and probably partying. But redundancies be damned, I've also been cheating on still.grimey with great fervor.
The second question you may find yourself asking is where you've seen the the "Handlebar Mustache Madness" banner and Raleigh Fingers background before. Answer: on this motherfucker's blog. Also real quick, shouts to The WULU for giving still.grimey and, in particular, yours truly much love and pub on the dollars make sense. Lord knows we don't deserve to mentioned in the same sentence as somebody who is consistently accumulating internet accolades; I digress. A while back, instead of going up on a bag of trees, I proposed to my man (pause) that we go up on a tumblr together. My rationale was that a) mother fucker is funny, and he tends to fair on the sarcastic and deprecating side of things, which is more or less my comfort zone; and b) if I didn't get somebody else to go up on it with me, shit would just slide through the cracks as another idea I was playing with, but never got around to. So, after a couple rigorous sessions of trial and error, we were able to land on a template that we were cool with. The next step was, well...you could say I did my fair share to draw shit out. Then before we could link back up and get the grind started again, I jumped in an airplane and went across the Atlantic.
Oops.
Fast forward.
I get a message from WULU saying we were the proud parents of Handlebar Mustache Madness. I know, I know. Tumblr is a lazy, or perhaps unimaginative, but most likely both, form of blogging. I can't help it. Not only is it new and fun and exciting...it's so easy. Check me out: Imagine you had been kicking it with this girl for a while, you got to see her sometimes, and half the time it was fun, but the other half it felt like more work than it was worth. Sometimes you're not even sure if you can continue at all, but other times she's all you think about, but then all of a sudden the homie comes along and introduces you to this new girl. She's hella exciting, and sexy and fun...and really easy. Like so easy you can stay out all night doing wild shit, and then just hit her up real quick like and be out. Well, Handlebar Mustache Madness is that new girl for me. I mean, I'm not saying its over with still.grimey, still.grimey will always be my rock, but got damn is Handlebar Mustache Madness sexy...no homo.

Enjoy: Handlebar Mustache Madness

Six Mile Raised, Seven Mile Paid.

LaGreezy throws his 7s high, and his 6s low...at his desk job...when nobody's looking.



As recently as two weeks ago, I had grown complacent in my search for new music. Something about stumbling upon up and comers had just lost it's luster. Enter Detroit's Boldy James. I was scouring my twitter feed a couple weeks back when I investigated a link that Chuck Inglish of Cool Kids/illest new producer fame had tweeted (see above video). Now, given my propensity to be easily be entranced by trap rap (see previously discussed fascinations with Jeezy and Clipse), it should come as no surprise that I was almost instantly drawn in (see the 1:33 mark)to this Midwest cat who had essentially come out of no where, save a few Cool Kids features.

Hit the jump to keep reading and to download Boldy James: Trapper's Alley: Pros And Cons

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It's Been A Long Time

I was considering using this long hiatus to bring some serious fire your way.  That is to say I was hoping to write something really inventive or insightful that would ignite your interest and set your loins afire.  Alas, I can't boast any stories or theories I wish to share on the world wide web of any respectable caliber.  What I will do is recommend some cuts and briefly mention their finer points.  That's what I'm here for god damn it.
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AOTW: Get Busy Committee

A couple weeks back ya boy Greezy posted a dope song from King Fantastic titled 'Why? Where? What?'. After listening to that track I was optimistic about how his mixtape wold turn out, but after listening to the rest of the mixtape I was pretty disappointed expecting more of the same. aftersome time I finally realized that 'Why? Where? What?' reminded me of Get Busy Committee's 2009 album Uzi Does it. Which is good news cause Uzi Does it was kind of where I was expecting King Fantastic to go.

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Even my mama gonna like this one.

Similar to Cassidy & R. Kelly in "Hotel" rooms, LaGreezy keeps it fly for them ladies, keep eye his on them ladies, hot tubs for them ladies, pops bub for them ladies, I got love for my ladies.

WE IN OUR THROWBACKS!!!

Timeliness, or perhaps a lack there of, always results in leaving my blog posts with a slight taste of irrelevance. Such is life for those who chose an existence on the internets.I digress.
Even with the 2011 edition of March quickly fading in our proverbial rear view mirror,  I'm going to honor the celebration of Women's history month, albeit a few days late. Granted, this post is as self-serving as it is chivalrous (still.grimey is trying to shed, at least in some semblance, our chauvinistic tendencies...and JAM just really wants his mom to read the blog), but hopefully people of either gender, or even some combination of the two,  will enjoy the fruits of our labor.
After the jump you'll find a compilation of the women who have been important in my life, at least from musical standpoint, and some of my favorite tracks by them. Unfortunately, Lauryn Hill told me that after I put this up, she is going to set either herself, or yours truly, on fire. Oh well, you win some you lose some, I guess.

Hit the jump for the link and track listing.
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Shaolin VS The Wu-Tang and Other Assorted Commentary

Raekwon posing with his favorite culture cipher.

For the last several weeks Raekwon's Shaolin VS The Wu-Tang has maintained a stranglehold on my iTunes.  As with it's predecessors OB4CL & OB4CL2, which, especially in the case of the former, are phenomenal albums, Shaolin VS The Wu-Tang boasts classic butter-smooth Chef and top-shelf cameos.  Some place OB4CL2 alongside the first incarnation as one of the great Wu albums ever, and I don't necessarily disagree, however I firmly believe that Shaolin VS The Wu-Tang is better than OB4CL2.
Here's three reasons why:
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AOTW: Childish Gambino

Donald Glover is a multi-talented individual that you might recognize for his role as Troy Barnes on the NBC show "Community" (if you aren't watching it already, start cause it's pretty damn funny) or maybe you've caught some of his stand-up act, or maybe you're a fan of his work on 30 Rock as a writer and actor. It's no doubt that Glover is talented, and he's gained a lot of respect and accolades for his work on TV, but it's his work as rapper Childish Gambino that has got my interest piqued.

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Blake Griffin HATES Marcin Gortat

I honestly don't think Blake Griffin deserved a technical after running around acting indignant after he fouled out, he just couldn't cope with the fact that he had just murdered Marcin Gortat in front of the Staples Center.



I feel genuinely bad for all people caught in the paint when the Blake Show comes through, that is, unless, your last name is Vujacic, then I probably just hate you. Word to William Simmons.

Junior Wells & Buddy Guy - Cryin' Shame

Amid an unsuccessful attempt to spark Spanish fifth graders' interest in American music that isn't heavy with the stench of ones J. Beiber or M. Cyrus, I ran across this Youtube gem.  I was struck by the similarities between Wells (harmonica and vocals) and early James Brown, and pleasantly surprised to see what appears to be a heavily drugged Buddy Guy (guitar) melting faces in all of his sedated glory.  Junior Wells's Hoodoo Man Blues is an excellent album that I highly recommend, and, for those with a taste for the acoustic, the Wells/Guy tandem produce some outstanding unplugged sessions on the aptly named Alone and Acoustic.  The former boasts all of the splendor and scintillating harmonica solos of a younger Wells, and the latter showcases the eternal duo's mature, time-mellowed return to the classics.  Hit the jump to peep a cut from each.
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Biggie Smalls is the Illest.

I still get depressed when I think about the waste of life that occurred during the mid-90's East vs. West rivalry, and I'm not talking All-Star weekend. We lost two of the greatest MCs that will ever go into the booth in Tupac Amaru Shakur and Christopher George Latore Wallce. To discuss one with out the other is almost impossible; it's crazy to me that for how intertwined they were in life, they were also bound to each other in death. Their rivalry was like nothing else pop culture had ever seen, and to be honest, I hope we never see it again. Although it seems that, based on interviews and their music, both knew that they had a very limited time on this earth, hip hop heads around the world, even far beyond my time, will continue to ask themselves about what could have been. They say that some questions are best left unanswered, I have a hard time believing this is one of them.
I could keep politicin' in the matter for quite some time, but I don't think you want to read that. I also don't want to take away focus from the Notorious B.I.G., a man whose death we observe today (March 9, 1997 was the day he passed), but whose life we should celebrate everyday. I feel comfortable saying that everybody at still.grimey will always love Big Poppa.
I just hope him and 'Pac have worked everything out in Thugz Mansion, and may the both rest in peace.



Hit the jump to hear Method Man speak on B.I.G., 'Pac, and the East v West beef.

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Bi-Winning: Visual Stimulus.

Word to Chuck Sheen, these are two songs and two videos that will surely not disappoint. Unless you're a jackass and don't like dope shit. All still.grimey does is win.

"Blame Game" - DaVinci


"I'll Take Care of You" - Gil-Scott Heron & Jamie xx


Shit's ill, nahmeans?

Fashawn: The foto essay.

You ever have those nights that you enjoy so much you go home and and write a drunk blog post on them? Neither does LaGreezy.

 

Anytime a show comes to town that you're at least remotely interested in, if you can't afford a ticket for ten dollars, you should prolly get the fuck of the internets and reevaluate your life. Anyway, me and the family dictator over at the dollars make sense decided it would be in our best interests to break our piggy banks and go to the Fashawn show tonight. Truth be told, this was a good ass investment. Sure, the decor made me feel like I was at hip hops 40th high school anniversary, but somebody once said some shit about a book and it's cover...but I blew dro tonight so I can't remember it.

But yo, word to Aesop, I learnt some lessons tonight. (Like I still don't like Evidence, especially since he was saying what a big deal it was for Fashawn to headline his first tour...and then mother fucker wouldn't get off stage...And also that Fashawn has gotta be one of the most gracious MCs in the game, like, there were maybe 60 people at the show, and he still tore shit down.)
And since a picture is worth a thousand words, I'm gonna let them get to talkin.
Hit the jump for a Thursday night photo essay. And yes, a mother fucker does need photoshop.

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Compare and Contrast.

In the last 48 hours, which might as well be two weeks in the blogsphere, two videos dropped that got my attention this morning while scouring the internets for that good good: "6'7'" by Dwayne Carter and Peter Gunz' son & "Freethrows" by the Cool Kids. Both songs boast pretty absurd samples, but I love me some Cool Kids (no homo), and Weezy occupies quite a nice size of my iTunes, well. Not to mention that if 6'7' doesn't make you wanna go honey baked ham on a motha fucka, you might wanna check your pulse.
Here's the Wayne x Gunz x Hype Video:


Hit the jump to keep reading.

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AOTW:Chip Tha Ripper

You smell me?

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Heavy Rotation.

Note: the laws took down this post initially because of the downloadable file of music that I don't own, and I'd rather not have it happen again. So if I were you, I would peep the comment section, and hopefully this post (& blog, for that matter) is here when I wake up tomorrow morning. So shhhh, don't tell nobody.the laws won.

My boy Craighead says I wont listen to any music I don't find for myself, and perhaps his belief has some merit; but it's also why you're reading my blog, and not the other way around. You might find that last statement conceited, but find me a blogger who doesn't have an ego, and I'll show you a person who has no business writing on the Internets. Plus, y'all muhfuckas should be thanking your boy for slaving over the proverbial stove, in an effort to serve you fiends some audio crack.
On the other side of the jump, you'll find a zip file very informative comments section and track listing for the less fortunate of the new music community. I'm like the mother fucking internet Robin Hood, only a mother fucker didn't fight in no holy war. Anyways, in the previously mentioned file comment, you'll find a collection of tracks that I've had on constant rotation as of late. Some are old, some are new, some I don't know when they dropped, but they are all one thing for certain: HEAT ROCKS.

Craighead thinks I'm pretentious, but at least I don't wear dead animals on my head.

Now hit the jump for that cookup!

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still.grimey PSA: He is I and I am Him.

With the recent addition of a twitter account in my life (fuck with your boy), I have found myself in the midst of an internet identity crisis. Do I want to stick with the familiar yung.geezy, or move on to the bigger/faster/stronger Twitter handle of @LaGreezy? Well, I am here to announce that progress has won this one, after all, slow motion better than no motion. It just seems like it's easier to change your blogger handle than it is your Twitter handle, but maybe I'm just weird. Anyways, I just didn't want y'all hoes to get alarmed and be all "Where's geezy? and who the fuck is LaGreezy?" or "yung.geezy? oh he lazy, but this LaGreezy mother fucker, he's on point!"
Word to young Calvin Brodus, he is I and I am him. Now, whats my motha fuckin name?

Remaking a Withers Classic & For Some Strange Reason My Son Addicted to Polo

Bill Withers' senior picture.

Over the last week the omniscient, omnipresent beast known as social media has battered me with two jams I have found myself bumping with fervor.  Normally when I post the JOTW I choose the songs the day of, but as I'm feeling particularly candid I'll share what I can sincerely assure you are my personal Jams of the Week.

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This makes me so happy.

Bounce Pass + Alley-Oop = Dougie Time

AOTW: LaMarcus Aldridge

RIP Ginobili.

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Marcberg: An Endorsement

Roc Marciano supports national high speed rail initiatives and keeping it real as shit.

The last time I touched down in NYC I was banging Blue Eyes Meets Bed-Stuy, but the next time I roll through, Roc Marciano's Marcberg will be my touch-down album of choice.  Marcberg is an LP for those, yours truly included, who have a strong penchant for early nineties New York hip-hop.  It's beats are raw and relatively simple, and they're complemented by Marciano's polished flow and inventive lyrics.
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Multiple-Eurosis & JOTW

Eurodouche

In the last four months of my stay in Madrid I have been privy to a fair number of European house-parties, and just about the only thing I find offensive is their ridiculously shitty music.  Be forewarned, I am a notoriously fastidious hater when it comes to putting up with music I don't like, but in the last few years I have built up certain tolerance, and I can normally hold out until my blood alcohol level induces musical apathy.  Nevertheless, when the only thing played is David Guetta and Tiesto mixes I rapidly get fed-the-fuck-up.  At a fiesta last weekend, the other partygoers encouraged me to put on some "pahty mewsic" that I enjoy, and since I was the only American in the house I decided to go with strictly perennial classics: "Party Up"-D.M.X., "Ain't No Fun (If The Homies Can't Have None)"-Snoop Dogg featuring Krupt and Nate Dogg and "Don't Stop "Til You Get Enough"- Michael Jackson.  If you put one of these cuts on at an American party and someone complains then he/she is an asshole.

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I Hope You Like Jammin'

This week I'll keep it laconic.

Hit the jump to peep the lineup:
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"I think it's absolutely right."

So I just happened to be watching the Blazers' game tonight, when my boy Jajou showed me this.
And now I'm showing you.
Chauvinism for the win:

AOTW: RAGU

This Ragu is not as good as R.A.G.U.

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Where Amazing Happens.

I went to my first NBA game in years (pathetic, I know) last night and watched this happen, it shortly followed by a "GOT DAYUM!":



As a long-time Clippers fan, and life-time Blazers, I was kind of torn between who to root for in this game. Primarily because the Clippers are young, exciting to watch, and have a legitimate chance of making the playoffs...and even making a splash in them.
Meanwhile, the Blazers are essentially willing to put anybody in uniform as long as they have knees. Their "Rise with Us" slogan is no longer applicable, it should instead be replaced with a "Rehab with Us", or "If you even look at a Blazers jersey your knees will explode." Granted, LaMarcus Aldridge has been playing out of his mind, but you see my dilema.
But then I remembered that I hate LA and love the Northwest; problem solved.

Hit the Jump:
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Nappy's 5 Albums of 2010

This was the first thing that popped up on Google Images when I typed in 2010.

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Bawse JAMs

While Rozay maintains he's the biggest boss that we've seen thus far, I'd say he might just barely shave the bottom half of my top 50 all-time favorite bosses.  The criteria for said list being completely arbitrary and erratic, but one thing is certain: Martin Luther King Jr.  would definitely make the top five.

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always been a fan of that gangster shit.

So I tried to figure out who King Fantastic is, and dude doesn't even have a wikipedia page. But I know one thing for certain: he's fascinated by that fucking gangster shit.
My boy Trevor put me on game to this, and I'm not sure how long this track's been out, but it looks like about five months. Shit is straight fire. The beat is hard body, and dude's got lyrics and a video to compliment it nicely. Oh, and watching a bad bitch trash a house, take a shower, and then dance naked in a huge window is as awesome as it sounds.
If you're tryna fuck with King Fantastic on a continuous basis, dip over to his website (click) to watch other videos and download his album for free ninety nine.
Enjoy.

No Words.

If we had a tumblr, and no, this is not us (but I ain't mad at whoever's tumblr that is), I would put this picture on it (yes, I understand that despite the title of this post, these are, in fact, some words):



Once you're done being astounded by the fact that his ice cream tattoo is a) ON HIS FUCKING FACE b) has red lightning bolts coming out of it (ummm?), c) says "brrr" on it and d) ITS ON HIS FUCKING FACE, please take time to consider the fact that this man has a huge EA Sports logo on his neck. Maybe he really is mentally incompetent, okay okay okay, he's definitely mentally incompetent.

Shouts to NDo for pointing this out to me.

i still fucks with dipset.

I should be updating this bullshit blog for one of my classes, but it's Saturday and a long weekend, so scholastic motivation isn't exactly in excess today. In my best efforts to look like I'm doing work on my computer, I started peeping game on the internets; dope shit was out there to be had, and it was mines for the taking.
I was expecting to just cop some tracks that I'd prolly fuck with for a week or two before they were relegated to iTunes obscurity. What I ended up finding was preferable: a new video from Dipset producer araabMUZIK.


Hit the jump if you wanna keep it going.
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AOTW: Blu

Sorry folks I've been real busy with getting a new job and buying an Xbox and that's why AOTW has not been updated regularly, but without further ado here's this weeks edition showcasing rapper Blu from LA.

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Devastation.*

*yung.geezy's note: I may or may not be drunk right now. I'm just saying.


Two.
Two, albeit small, can be a significant number.
Two Seconds.
As in, Oregon was two seconds away from still being a contender for the national title.
Or perhaps we were two words away:
Cam Newton.
Auburn Tigers.
War Eagle.
Gene Chizik.
Toomers Corner.
Typing each of those phrases hurt. Actually, come to think of it, my heart hurts.
Now, unless you've spent the last month in your life living under a rock, you're probably aware that the college football season just concluded with Auburn defeating Oregon 22-19 in the Tostitos BCS championship game. Just trying to conceptualize that this actually happened is devastating, even nauseating. It just plain doesn't make sense. Sure, I watched the game, that doesn't make this any easier to process, though.
Now, don't get me wrong. I've had incredible timing with regard to when I transferred to THE University of Oregon (suck a dick, Buckeyes). My first two football seasons in Eugene, we've made it to the Rose Bowl and the Natty. You could even say that the Ducks' shit don't sink (it'd be true). And despite the fact that we've copped Ls in our two most recent bowl games, I have immense pride in my school and supporting this team.
See you motherfuckers next year, with the Pac-10 wrecking shop in the preseason polls.
Ducks fly together (word to Gordon Bombay).

JAM's Top 10 Jamz of 2010

2010 was the year of the Tiger

Here's ten songs from last year that struck a chord with me; if you feel I left off anything essential you can air your grievances in the comments section and go listen to some dubstep or something.  Comments are appreciated, but remember that this is nothing more than an annual personal recommendation.  It's not some sort of unequivocal manifesto by which I live and die.
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AOTW: Supwitchugirl? JOTW: "Return of the Quack"

I know, I just showed up after weeks of absence and straight jacked AOTW and JOTW. But, it's my blog so fuck y'all, this ain't no got damn democracy. Let's go in:


Brian McAndrew.
Michael Bishop.
Jamie Slade.
Supwitchugirl?

Hit the Jump for the track and commentary (although you might gotta be dumb, deaf and blind to not have heard this shit...or just a bitter ass Huskies fan, word to Jimmy Mahady)

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