Amidst the hype surrounding their reported $15 million dollars and numerous e beefs (including one with our very own Dallas Penn) the Rap Genius posse stopped by to clear the air and share what they’re really about. And whether they’re the fuckybergs the Internets think they are. DP stayed swinging though. Who won in the end? You be the judge.
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Infamous writer and
my blog mentor notorious blogger Byron Crawford announced earlier today, via his site that he just penned the first draft to his first book. There’s no details as to its title, but Crawford states the book will be uploaded to Amazon in “about a month from now, give or take.”
I’m looking forward to this as Crawford, in my opinion, is one of the best writers in this generation’s urban blogosphere. Being the target of some of his writings myself, I shudder to think who else will be targeted. Crawford promises:
I’ll be posting more info, including its name, what it’s about and members of the Illuminati who are likely to be offended, in the coming days and weeks.”
via Byron Crawford
Wow. You both know how much I love, live for blog beef. That shit right there is what brought me to this game in the first place. Being that we somewhat fit into the Hip Hop blogger category, it’s most definitely par for the course. It’s kinda weird though, when two of my favorite bloggers actually get into it against each other. Especially two bloggers that I’m personally cool with. You already know how I came into the game on Byron’s site, that right there is a debt of gratitude that I can never forget. And Eskay showing me continuous support, from personally coming out to my book signing to endorsing this blog through the links and what not, whose effin’ with that? I’ll be the first to admit that beef in this arena has been overdue for some time now, I just didn’t expect that it’d be between you two.
Byron, you did fire the first shot by insinuating that the homie was somehow on some payola payroll ish (as if you didn’t know). And then you blasted again. We all know how you get down, you’re the original shit talker and I get that. From my perspective though, seeing how hard Eskay goes in on the daily over at Nahright, it’s more than apparent that the man takes a great deal of pride in his work. So much even that I can see where dude might could get offended by someone calling into question the very shit that makes him one of the very few that’s on top of his game: his integrity. Plus the fact that Eskay rarely goes out his lane to eff with other bloggers on some stray shots shit, one can deduce that he’s really not the one to play. But eff it, that’s what you do, that’s what’s kept your name on people’s screens for so long, you are the original shock blogger and I respect that. I would never ever suggest you switch your style up, I dig your game that much, plus that’s not why I’m here. And I’m doubting very much that you would ever take too kindly to any types of suggestions of that sort. I’m just saying maybe, just maybe, you might be enjoying pushing dude’s buttons a lil too much.
Eskay, I hear you man, sometimes you just gotta get shit off yer chest, let a knicca know when playtime is over. At the same time, you been in this game long enough to know how Crawford gets down. That nigga be on his best prowl trying to get under EVERBODY’s skin. I’m surprised he ain’t come for me yet. I see how you run a tight ship and make it a point to stay out of the bullshit, how you remain focused on building the empire that is the Nahright brand, but you been already know how this dude is, enjoying the fact that he set someone off, while he’s chilling out in the mid-west, way off in the comforts of his home. Some battles are most definitely worth it, this one, in my humble opinion, is not. Still and all though, gotta respect your gully for drawing the line in the sand. I didn’t expect to see you coming, but I can always expect and respect how every now and then, you just gotta check someone. Plus, I see how you kept it moving with like the next 20 posts in the same day, and without blinking an eye. Heh.
Grown men are gonna be grown men and I’m not here to play mediator to a peace treaty on some Russell Simmons/ Ben Chavis ish. If it’s a beef ya’ll have, then so be it, I’ma just have to pull up a chair and watch how this shit transpires from the sidelines. I guess what I’m really trying to say is that I’m kinda fucking mad that I gotta remain all neutral and shit, not being able to jump in with the flagrant comments and diss co-signs whenever the opportunity arises. Two of my favorite bloggers going at it is not the beef I’ve been waiting for. Especially when all this bullshit kinda originated with the white boy dropping an ambiguously racial twitter comment.
Still spring cleaning. So in the meantime, and as promised, here’s a throwback of my world famous, award winning blog series recapturing my Top 5 gulliest moments I experienced first hand in the music industry, shit you won’t hear about anywhere else on the whole effin planet but here!
#4. Pete Rock Is Not A Snitch (Prior, #5)
Back around 1993, Pete Rock was a producer God in the greater New York City area. Shit, dude was God worldwide! He also happened to be in one of the hottest rap groups (Pete Rock & CL Smooth (although I never understood what the eff CL was saying). His remixes for legends like RUN-DMC and Public Enemy further cemented his status as a legend in this Hip Hop game.
Around that time, a lot of of music industry players hailed from the Northern town of Mount Vernon (Puffy, Heavy D and the Boyz, Pete and CL). Anyways, Pete, being the good hardworking and industrious dude that he is, was trying to put a local rap group called the the YG’z (short for “Young Gunz”) on. He provided these dudes with a lil’ cash, supplied them with ample beats and even got them a record deal with I think either Uptown or MCA. Problem was these cats were really turrible. Kinda like Big Shug and Group Home status when they got hooked up by the homie Premier. In addition, word on the street was that these cats were all like ex-cons, stick-up men or professional crooks or some other shit like that and everyone who knew them knew damn well that they had no effin business being in the music industry other than the fact that they knew Pete. They even had a single or something called that come out and it stank like cabbage and chitlins stew. Cutting losses, the label dropped them. Back on the street, slanging, purse snatching and what not, they started leaning on Pete. Hard too. I guess they figured Pete was gonna continue funding them, “riding” with them or whatever the fuck real thugs think they man’s an ‘em is supposed to do. Pete, however, realized that these cats were a bad investment of time and energy and tried his damned best to cut these bad news bears off.
That summer, I attended a Mt. Vernon “family day” kinda picnic. It was one of those picturesque days, like in a Dr. Dre or Fresh Prince music video, and everyone was there enjoying Heavy D’s special barbeque chicken and ribs. Pete, with chicken in hand, was posted up in the piece, rapping to some dime pieces on a huge ass picnic blanket when the YG’z show up. Once dudes got there, shit kinda got tense, music turned down low, you know how dramatic thug life be. So one of the YG fellows request Pete’s attention. As Pete promptly got up to talk, the YG sneak swings and knocks Pete Rock in the jaw with an uppercut, catapult launching dude clean over the huge ass picnic blanket spread. The chicks is screaming, cats are scrambling to get out of there, kids is crying, Pete is convulsing on the ground with barbeque sauce all over his bright yellow Cross Colours jersey on account of how his brain got shut down cause he was knocked the fuck out and the YG’z are steady and dilligently rifling through his pockets Debo style. Heav and the rest of the “Mt. Vernon” crew don’t really say shit, looking in each and every direction except Pete’s (I guesss because the YG’z were really that gully). Eventually, Pete gets up, makes it to his feet, dusts hisself off, recovers, immediately realizes what just took place and automatically jumps into a sprint OJ-style Hertz car rental commercial style, across the picnic grounds with the YG’z hot on his tail. [||].
From what I understand, this extortion shit went on for quite some time. A few months later, like around winter time, I was on my way to attend some music industry black tie event in Manhattan. When I get to the venue, I see Pete running the fuck my way in a tuxedo, knees to chest. Doing my best not to get bowled over, I move out of his way. A few seconds later, I see the YG’z (not in tuxedo) running after him, also kness to chest style. Where I’m going with this is that during the entire time that dudes are hazing Pete (let’s say a period of like 9 months), Pete never ever contacted the authorities. He took his multiple beatdowns and terrorizings like a man. Pete might even be on some additional legendary shit as he might have actually been the pioneer of this whole current “stop snitching” movement that’s become the ghetto code from hood to hood. I really respect that. He may be a lot of things, but one thing no one can ever say about the man is that the Soul Brother #1 ain’t nevah snitch.
Courtesy of the homie Byron Crawford.
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