"Baaaaaaaad Boooooooy...Come out and plaaaaaaaaaaaay...
You know we had to do a remix right?" - SHUT THE FUCK UP PUFFY
damn, but that boy almost ruined yet another song with his unnecessary appearance on the shit.
then that beat dropped twice...
"Uhhhhhh, Uhhhhhh,"
and then frank white dropped this little gem..."Niggas is mad I get more butt than ash trays..."
and the shit became an instant classic before biggie had said another fucking word. in fact, not only did it become a classic, it became BIGGIE'S classic. think about it...when craig mack came with the original, talking about some uniblab shit, it might have seemed clever at the time, but when that remix dropped and biggie said he got more butt than ash trays, you know you was like "what original"? with a flick of the spit, biggie stole craig's shit.
it was like eminem fucking up jay-z's shit all over again. (although for the record, jay-z's verses on renegade were tight...just not as tight as eminem's...)
the production was perfect. the beat layered with a few notes was as simple as it gets, just spare enough so the listener could really hear the luxurious lyrics being layed down on the track, the silver platter on which the feast of urban flava was displayed, a cornucopia of carefully concocted courses for the conscious to consume.
"Disappear...vamoose...you're wack to me,
Take them rhymes back to the factory,
I see,
The gimmicks...the wack lyrics,
The shit is depressing...pathetic...please forget it,
You're mad cause my style you're admiring,
Don't be mad...UPS is hiring,
You shoulda been a cop...fuck hip-hop,
With that freestyle you're bound to get shot"
it was almost like brotha was talking to craig mack.
and speaking of him, was it just me or did you also notice how craig mack was relegated to second-class status on his own shit when he was forced to come in after biggie? i mean, if it's your remix, at least let a mothafucka hear your voice at the beginning so i know it's your shit. either hit me at the beginning or the end, so i know you were the finale, which means you were the cat everyone was waiting to hear. meanwhile, the song went straight from puffy's inconsequential chatter to biggie's venomous verse to...
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH here comes the Mack!
Word up don't rap no crap you bore me,
Wanna grab my dick...too lazy...hold it for me,
I'm straight that great plus the heads straighten dreads,
I'm everlasting like the toe on Pro Keds..."
WHAT THE FUCK?
it was one of those moments where i wished my cd player had a fast forward button. if you think about it, this remix was basically how puffy played craig mack during his tenure at bad boy records. puffy was the pimp and biggie was his prize bitch. biggie fucked while craig mack sucked.
for real though...what the fuck did he mean by
"I step on stage girls scream like I'm Keith"
keith who? keith richards? keith sweat? keith murray? keith david? david keith? i mean, i'm gonna scream differently for keith richards than i would for keith sweat.
i have no problem with the lyrics making no sense if the delivery makes me forget it (see ll cool j later in this post), but it sounds like the listener is supposed to know of which keith he speaks. mack's delivery was aiight, but not good enough for me not to wonder who the fuck keith was.
i think the next cat was supposed to be the next 'big thing'. rampage's first misfortune occurred when he named himself after a woman's clothing line. i hear his name and instantly want to go shopping for a new mini-skirt. anyway, he did a good job with his appearance in the video. really, the only thing i remember about his appearance was how everyone was acting like he was gonna blow up when his shit dropped...and how it didn't hit.
and then there's ll cool j's contribution to the collab. aiight, remember this song came out right when ll was really making moves on the charts with hit after hit. he was at his most successful, most sexy, and everything that dropped from his lips was considered genius at that time. he wasn't yet todd smith...he was still that sexy mothafucka from farmer's with a mouth that made a sista wish her pussy lips were permanently fused to it.
maybe that's why he didn't say one comprehensible thing in his verse. he had somebody sitting on his face.
"Heesheeee,
Uhhhhh...blowticious,
Skeevee [mmmmmm] delicious,
Gimme coos coos love me good,
Uhh damn,
Hollis to Hollywood but is he good?,
I guess like the jeans...Uhh,
Flava like praleens,
Sick daddy iaaamean?"
no baby, i don't have a fucking CLUE what you mean, but you said that shit so sweetly, so sexily, so sensually, like you were fucking me doggie-style while you said those words, like you were licking on my lower lips when you said "mmmmm delicious". frankly, ya fine ass could have been speaking in yiddish and i still would have thought you were talking to me in dirty french.
actually, he cleverly dropped a couple of references to his popular songs at the time "hollis to hollywood", "jingling baby". wait a sec...that was more like blatant advertising, like product placement of tampax tampons in a chick flick, only his flow was a flood and bled through the dome, scattering a sonant splatter upon brain matter. he could get away with bullshit lyrics because the sistas were fantasizing about being fucked by ll. picture craig mack saying some shit like that. who is really fantasizing about craig mack being in between her legs talking about "mmmmm delicious"? i mean, mack has some nicely thick lips and he might actually be able to handle his biz down there, but the package isn't necessarily conducive towards a sexual fantasy.
by the time busta rhymes stops through with his frenetic phonetics, my mental clit was still reverberating from ll's lascivious licks, so i really didn't even hear him. turns out that's a good thing cuz yet again i was forced to babble my way through his shit.
"Hey...HEEEEEEYYYYYYY..Hey!" babble...
"Hey...HEEEEEEYYYYYYY..Hey!" babble...
more babble...then
"Now...don't you get suspicious,
Grant your wishes everytime,
Breaking dishes when I bust a rhyme..."
and more babble right up into the chorus.
which just goes to prove my theory about busta not making sense on a collab = instant classic.
actually, the more i read the lyrics for this shit, the more i realize biggie was the only stand out performance in it. however, the combination of one stellar verse mixed with a bunch of average lyrics and a couple of well-done deliveries, grounded by one tight ass riff, made for a classic collab.
either that, or it's really just about frank white. i'm cool with that assessment, too.
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tomorrow's installation: dirty south...betta known as "the cut that rammed red clay down your throat...and made you like it, shawty!"
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