SPECULATIVE FICTION

Going the Eldridge Cleaver route, 2Pac embraces conservatism and becomes frequent guest on Fox News.  His undeniable on-screen chemistry with Jedediah Bila fuels rumors that the two are dating.

Biggie spotted at Brooklyn Fare buying Niman Ranch T-bone steak, artisanal goat cheese, quail egg, and cold-press grape juice.

Career devastated by a Jezebel exposé on his history of domestic abuse, Big Pun is hospitalized for a failed suicide attempt when the beam he used collapses, leaving him bruised and considering gastric bypass.

In the wake of his well-received album on Legal Hustle, Jay-Z is seen shedding a single tear as he plays SXSW to a crowd of hipsters, journalists, and aging backpackers.

Fans of rap and shock radio rejoice when Anthony Cumia takes on Pimp C as co-host.

Big L and ASAP Rocky play Fashion Week in a leather version of this, designed by Alexander Wang.

South Park Mexican receives Medal of Freedom for his significant charitable contributions to Houston-area children's hospitals.

DJ KHALED SNAKES THE BOSS AND ENTERS THE CHICKEN GAME!

Even though it's fashionable to hate DJ KHALED, I do not hate DJ Khaled.  He is FUNKMASTER FLEX minus any credibility. He gets on the radio, yells a lot, dicks around on a soundboard, and everyone goes home entertained.  Yeah his Warholian public persona is annoying, but that's an essential part of his heel schtick.  He's that Palestinian-American you love to hate *Yukmouth voice*.

That said, I gotta speak on some bullshit.  Fuck your Finga Licking Chicken, Khaled.  You know damn well RICK ROSS cornered the R&C (rap and chicken) market with his string of successful and delicious Wingstops.  How ya gonna do ya boy like that, you Fredo ass motherfucker?  I ain't never gonna eat your chicken, you clucker. 

In all seriousness, Finga Licking sounds better than the General's Fried Chicken shit the Bawse purveyin, but you can't step on no man's toes in the bird biz.   What's wrong wit Finga Licking Fattoush, ya leech?  I fucks wit small businesses and job creation, but Khaled finna fatten up my city to Khaled-level lumpiness.  Ayo, HHS!   Make these obese poultry magnates build a Jenny Craig for every franchise they open, call it a fatboy carbon credit.

R.I.P. SEAN PRICE

2015 has been a fucked up year. Rest in peace, Ruck.

I LIKE THE WAY THEY DRIBBLE UP AND DOWN THE COURT

You can lay up in that pussy / But I'm bout to dunk on ya ho

Not sure of the exact mechanics of dunking on a ho, and yet -- I know, I know.  What was the ultimate ho-dunking of the above-the-rim era?  Was it Shaq over Ivy League hollow man Chris Dudley?   Le dunk de la mort?  Wade over Varejao?  Or was it the time Scottie Pippen nutted on Patrick Ewing's face in front of Spike Lee? 

Maybe it's all subjective, but we can all agree that these are maneuvers we would shudder to see outside parties conduct upon our hoes.

THEY'RE PUTTING DRAKE IN OUR WATER

Writergate (mk. ∞) is inherently misguided because it underestimates the aggressive parasitical nature of DRAKE'S on-mic presence, his awesome figuration in the pop-cult cosmos.  This ain't even on some, "It don't matter who wrote the songs, so long as they exist" kumbaya shit.  One drop of Drake poisons the whole well.  "Where Ya At" sounds like a vintage FUTURE song until Aubrey comes in with his beta-male moping, the neutral sound of rap's miscegenation across borders and timezones and city limits.  Drake's authorship hasn't mattered for a long time.  The Drake concept is bigger than lyrics, bigger even than antitrust laws.  Grow with it or get absorbed.

GHOSTWRITTEN BONUS: Bow Wow - "Let's Get Down" (T.I.)
Now who wrote the Rap City freestyle where Bow Weezy goes iiiiiinnn?

REBELS OF THE NEON GUCCI

On the considerable chance that any producers close to GUCCI MANE read this blog, would you make sure to submit Huang Shu-Jun's theme from Rebels Of The Neon God for his appraisal?  The simplistic bass line demands the marblemouthed caress of one of Big Guwop's skreet-level noir raps.

Alls I want in return is a drop from DJ DRAMA, screaming, "AS A FORMER RAP BLOGGER, I RECOGNIZE THE YOUNG SHOOTERS IN THIS GAME!  RAP MUSIC HYSTERIA HAS THAT JUICE MY SELDOM UPDATED XXL BLOG LACKED!  MATTER FACT, LET'S FORGET MY BLOG ENTIRELY!  TRULY A MISGUIDED VENTURE!  DAMAGING TO MY BRAND!  RAP MUSIC HYSTERIA, DON'T FORGET THE BLOGSPOT DOT COM!"

THE SHAPE OF HIP-HOP THAT (FORTUNATELY) NEVER CAME

Just a friendly reminder that in the early oughts, a shrieking cabal of "tastemakers" pushed these comic book nerds as the vanguard of rap music.  As silly as a #FutureHive gets, it is far preferable to the grotesque alternate reality where #MrLifCommune is trending.

Fun fact: I hung this photo on my boyhood wall to remind myself what wack looked like.  Happy August, y'all.