Wyoming Doesn’t Like Rappers

Well, well, well, what do we have here, son? Some good ol’ fashioned racism, man. Look, I can see right through Diamond Cross Ranch‘s coded language, fam. On the real, when they say that they don’t want anymore rappers after Kanye West‘s listening party for ye, they really mean that they don’t want anymore Black people, bruh. All in all, no one gives a fuck, Jane Golliher. Only Kanye’s stupid ass cared about that shitty ranch.

Ok, before I continue, let me be clear, son. Now, if an establishment had an issue with a particular patron, then they have every right to not invite them back. However, Golliher’s entire statement is textbook dog-whistling, man. Shit, she legit said that her and her husband don’t want to entertain anymore rappers. Furthermore, they only want artists who make “good music.” For God‘s sake, I can see right through the ambiguity, fam!

Listen, we all know that most rappers are Black. So, not only did she take a shot at a genre dominated by Black people, but she also simultaneously shaded the validity of the music. All I can say is, fuck Jane Golliher, her husband AND Diamond Cross Ranch, bruh! Hell, their “bigotry slip” is showing, folks. A noise complaint is one issue, but using such a wide brush to paint an entire group of artists and musicians is something else, brethren. So, fuck ’em all!

In the end, I hope CoonYe, excuse me, Kanye, learns a valuable lesson from this, son. Ultimately, this is what happens when we cozy up to people who don’t fuck with us, man. By and by, his need for acceptance has him out here looking like a fucking fool, fam. At the end of the day, I’ll pass on a trip to Jackson Hole, Wyoming, bruh. No thanks, I’m good, people. That is all. LC out.

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I’m Mad At Myself For Listening To ‘ye’

So, I’m a hypocrite, son. Like, my logical side knew better than to listen to ye, man. But, the voracious music-lover in me fell for the fucking okie-doke, fam. Despite all of Kanye West‘s nonsense, I still gave that fool 20 minutes of my time, bruh. *Sigh* And after all of that, the album wasn’t even good, people. All I know is, this is the time where I need to stop trying to separate the art from the artist, folks.

Ok, so, this post isn’t an album review, per se. On the real, this article is simply me rambling about how much of a clusterfuck this record is, son. I mean, it’s amazing how a 7-song album can still be disjointed and all over the place, man. Look, between the unnecessary beat changes, Kim Kardashian references and talk of killing someone, there’s no cohesion to this record, fam. Frankly, I’m amazed that he put out an album like this after nailing the production on Pusha T‘s Daytona. Then again, who the fuck knows what goes on in Kanye’s mind, bruh?

Now, besides the album sonics, I’m mad at myself for even giving ye the time of day, son. Listen, it’s no secret that I’m a HUGE Kanye West fan. However, at some point, enough has to be enough, man. Keeping it a buck, I’m not even sure if I want to keep listening to Pusha’s album, fam. Real talk, I don’t like the idea of putting ANY money in Kanye’s pocket, bruh. Shit, I’m not sure exactly how much money artists get some streaming, but it’s still more than he deserves right now, people. All I can say is, a dope beat from Kanye is not worth the tomfoolery and coonery that comes along with it.

In the end, I just needed to check myself, son. Ultimately, I’m choosing not to be a slave to my former appreciation of Kanye West. By and by, this is one of the ONLY times a Black person is choosing not to be slave, man. At the end of the day, as much as I love music, supporting him just isn’t worth it, fam. That is all. LC out.

Drake Got Pusha T

So, let me begin this post by saying that I’m a HUGE Pusha T fan. I mean, ever since the Clipse dropped Lord Willin’ in 2002, I’ve been a stan, son. Side note, as my boy Fabian can attest to, I fronted on that album when it first came out. Nevertheless, I repented for my sins like a day later. In any case, I’m also a big Drake fan, man. With that being said, I’m happy that they’re throwing caution to the wind and letting the shots fly, fam. All I know is, after listening to “Duppy Freestyle,” the first round of this battle goes to Drake, bruh.

Ok, before I continue, let me keep it a buck, son. On the real, I don’t have the time to fully explain the history between Pusha and Drake, man. I mean, I’ll just let Highsnobiety do the work for me, fam. All in all, the feud between Pusha and Drake began as a feud between Pusha, No Malice, Lil Wayne and Birdman. Needless to say, Drake inherited the beef when he signed with Young Money. Crazily, this is a squabble that’s been going on for damn near a decade, bruh. All I can say is, that’s a long time to hold a grudge, people.

Anyway, the latest round of this beef began when Pusha’s DAYTONA album dropped. Now, the last song on the record is “Infrared,” and Pusha takes aim at the entire YMCMB. He references the fact that Quentin Miller has written rhymes for Drake. He references the fact that Birdman still owes Wayne a grip of money. He also references the fact that Rick Ross has been saying the exact same shit about the Cash Money team. Side note, everyone should go listen to Ross’s “Idols Become Rivals,” son. Just thank me later, pun intended. In any case, the Kanye West-produced “Infrared” is a hard response to Drake’s disses in “Two Birds, One Stone.”

Now, from there, I guess Drake had enough, man. So, instead of another round of subliminal shots, Drake went straight for the jugular, fam. Real talk, “Duppy Freestyle” isn’t even about me and it hurt my feelings, bruh. Shit, that’s how rough it is, folks. Basically, Drake airs ALL of the dirty laundry about Pusha and Kanye. He talks about the fact that he wrote Kanye’s rhymes on “30 Hours.” He talks about the fact that he was just in Wyoming helping them to pen verses. He talks about Ye being jealous of Virgil Abloh, his former creative director, for running Louis Vuitton. He questions the validity of Pusha’s drug-dealing past. Lastly, that “you older than the nigga you running behind” line is particularly gruesome, son. All in all, sheesh!

In the end, the ball is now in Pusha’s court, son. Ultimately, he has a real uphill battle, man. Not because I don’t think he’s capable, but because Drake’s celebrity makes things A LOT harder. Look, even if Pusha’s response is fire, Drake’s fanbase will kill him regardless. By and by, Pusha needs to just focus on these bars, fam. At the end of the day, I’m giving him until the end of the day, bruh. Listen, Pusha can’t let this shit rock, people. Good day. LC out.

P.S. Despite everything I’ve just said, Drake might’ve weakened his own kill shot with that “I’m Upset” record, son. I mean, that song is hot garbage, man. Side note, I can be a fan and still call a spade a spade, fam. Needless to say, this song ain’t it, bruh. That is all.