SCOOB LOVER IS STILL THE FATHER OF YOUR STYLE

I know I been on this tip, but why is Pressa allowed to live when Guerilla Black was mocked all the way to the rap graveyard? 'Cause he chose a more obscure artist from whomst to crib style? Admittedly, the Notorious B.I.G. is probably not the best artist to steal from if you're trying to get away with it it. It's like ripping off notorious sex pest Pablo Picasso, who gave these Young Turks (no genocide) the conceptual green light to bite style in the name of art. One time this bald idiot Pablo Picasso said some shit 'bout how good artists borrow and great artists steal, but no matter how you peel the tangelo, Pressa ain't a great artist.

Listen bruh, I get that millennial infantalization is a thing. I suffer from it sometimes like any of y'all in betwixt X and Z(oomers). Don't head into my domicile unless you want to step on hella rattles and soiled diapers. All that expressed, I don't want my rap metaphorically filling up a big spoon with baby formula and making that airplane sound as it jams that shits in my inner ear.

Pressa, you stole your whole style from Scoob. Throw the man some cash or put a footnote in your shit.

DON'T FORGET THE STRUGGLE, DON'T FORGET THE STREETS

The bulk of Lil Herb's music is unwelcoming by design: cold and cacophonous, with dense word cascades growled by the agitated son of Tone Loc. It don't make no concessions to the casual listener. The term street rap gets thrown around a lot these days, but it's treated more as a straightforward descriptor than a genre with its own unique characteristics. What differentiates street rap from the gangsta rap of yore is the absence of the broad-stroke blockbusterisms and mythologizing of the latter. It's an attempt at no-frills realism - they makin The French Connection, not Scarface.

As a rapper Herb is one of the most conventional drillmen. Whereas Keef came hot out the gate with a viral song and vid, Herb has built his reputation by delivering goods of consistent and dependable quality. With the possible exception of Mozzy, no one of Herb's generation or kind is writing with as much depth and intensity of detail.



Shy Glizzy gets by more on strength of personality. There ain't much redeeming about his music, which is kind of the point. He plays the villain, Lil Zé rappin about shootin up blocks in an absurd Jerry Lewis voice like the dude about to yell, "Laaady!" any minute. The voice can be a dealbreaker, but it's also his greatest strength. You can rap about atrocities if you sound like a caustic munchkin, and Ima still be waitin with the noogie like, "Come over here you little rascal!"

Not to get all Migos > Beatles on yo' ass, but Zaytoven's name is looking less like bravado than fact with the passing of each year.



Straight up homer, if you want me you can find me down in Dade! My starry eyes might be blind to clumsy raps and cornball lines like "My last name ain't Dumpty, I will never fall off!" but I still believe Carol City Mafia made an overlooked banger. In a city flush with rap money, it's a travesty that there's almost no interest in developing local artists. Sad when Jim Jones is doin more for the city than any of the natives, even if Miami Vampin is stuffed with more doodoo than a septic tank. Carpetbaggers watch ya chains. Rozay, keep ya fat ass in Boca. It's 2015 and Rap Music Hysteria is goin for the gusto.

I LIKE SHY GLIZZY TOO MUCH

As the immortal Godfather III line goes, "What's the deal with getting pulled back in when you think you're out?"  Told myself there was no way I was gonna listen to a tape of SHY GLIZZY and his weed carriers*.  But seeing as "From The Get Go" has been on repeat all day, I'm wondering if I'm depriving myself of the kind of insolent bangers that got me into Glizzy in the first place.

Between my fondness for Glizzy and PEEDI, I have a certain weakness for the kind of antic helium-heads that others find grating.  There ain't many socially redeeming qualities to Glizzy's schtick, but he would probably tell C. Dolores Tucker the same thing PAC did.  He raps for those who wear jeans with jean shirts, and those of us too pussy to try; those who tote extendos, and those who gawk from the sidelines.  The video contains some very rare and rugged footage of Glizzy rapping on a shopping cart and flossing his Pit like a sentient accoutrement.  Modern street rap didn't know it needed a Larry Lifeless**.  Then Glizzy came along.

* Goo Glizzy one-ups the entire history of WCs by literally carrying a bag of weed @1:57.
** Kilslug comparison © The Martorialist. From an Upsidedown Cross blurb: "Mr. Larry Lifeless is a supremely strange character. He's sleazy, filthy, always drunk and high on something, and is seemingly borderline retarded."

SHY GLIZZY'S PHILOSOPHICAL, BUT EXISTENTIALISM IS FOR THE FUCKBOYS

Yo, ya boy back from the brink and I ain't talkin clink!  Got kidnapped by a jam band while I was skiin da slopes, fell victim to Stockholm syndrome, and swore off all rap music but the cargo short kind.

Anyway, what about this new SHY GLIZZY tape, Law 3?   Best mixtape since IDK, that ASHER ROTH joint I was bangin back in my puka shell days.

But yo, let's get straight to the track "Funeral."  It's a gospel banger courtesy of KE ON THE TRACK, wherin GLIZZY envisions the illustrious mourners and ostentatious hijinks gon bless his funeral.  Spoiler: it sounds a lot like King of Diamonds.  He reflects on the conditions of loved ones, rhapsodizes all DANTE n BEATRICE PORTINARI on his bitch, and articulates his game plan before death's unforeseeable, inevitable scythe cuts him down.

It's an inspired entry in a classic rap theme: joyful celebration of death, mournful acknowledgement of life, the same contradiction that cats like SCARFACE, BIGGIE, and PAC built they reputations upon; it's that very same kinda emotional resonance that makes they listeners more acolytes than fans.

But ain't that what good art is all about?  Fuck life, but middle finger to death too.  Ain't know why we here - can't go on, I'll go on, son!