RIP Pop Smoke

So, I won’t lie, son. On the real, I’m running out of things to say when an artist dies prematurely. I mean, the shit seems to happen so often that I don’t really know how to properly express how tragic these situations are. In any case, I just want to say rest in peace to Pop Smoke. All in all, fuck the music, man. The way I see it, a 20-year-old just shouldn’t go out this way, fam.

Ok, for those who missed it, Pop Smoke, an up-and-coming rapper from Brooklyn, was gunned down in the Hollywood Hills home he was staying in. Apparently, sometime after 4AM on Wednesday morning, a bunch of dudes ran up in the house and shot Pop. Now, at first, it was suspected that he was killed during a botched home invasion. However, as more evidence comes to the light, it appears as if he was targeted from the jump, bruh.

Look, there are several things about this incident that don’t make sense, son. First, let’s talk about the four assailants, man. Now, as they left the house, which is owned by Teddi Mellencamp and Edwin Arroyave from The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, they didn’t leave with any stolen merchandise. Second, when the police were called, they were called by someone from the East Coast. Fam, does that even sound right? A shooting happens in Los Angeles and someone from across the country is the one to report it? Nah, bruh, I’m calling all types of shenanigans right now.

Now, we don’t have proof of anything, but it’s suspected that the shooting may have been related to Pop being a Crip. Either way, this crime was fucking senseless, son. Like, he was literally just getting started, man. Shit, he just released Meet the Woo 2 a couple of weeks ago and I’ve been playing “Christopher Walking” on repeat since before it dropped. In addition, he was just out there at Paris Fashion Week and a bunch of other high-profile events, trying to get away from the bullshit, fam. All I can say is, he never got a chance to fully integrate himself into his new life.

In the end, the nonsense needs to stop, bruh. Ultimately, nothing good ever comes out of this type of violence. Frankly, there’s probably going to be some kind of retaliation and some dudes are going to end up in prison. By and by, what’s the fucking point, son? At the end of the day, everyone loses at this street shit, man. So, leave the streets (and dumb motherfuckers who love the streets) alone. That is all. LC out.

P.S. Cats need to knock it off with that “he posted his own address, he did it to himself” shit. Fam, knowing where someone lives doesn’t give idiots the right to just run up in there and murder them. *Sigh* Folks ain’t safe anywhere, man. It’s a damn shame.

Conversations With Randi B.: Impeachment, Gayle King & Bobby Love

What’s good, brethren? On this episode of Conversations with Randi B., Randi and I talk about Donald Trump‘s impeachment, Gayle King‘s questions to Lisa Leslie about Kobe Bryant and the Bobby Love story on Humans of New York. Check it out on Spotify below, fam. Let’s go!

Get ‘Fast & Furious’ The F*ck Outta Here!

So, I won’t lie, son. On the real, I’ve fucking had it with the Fast & Furious franchise. Like, I understand that it’s a film series and none of it is real, but c’mon man. Real talk, each movie is more preposterous than the last one, fam. Frankly, I can barely keep up with all of the nonsensical shenanigans, bruh. In any case, the trailer for Fast & Furious 9 sealed it for me. All in all, I’m all of the way out, brethren.

Ok, before I get into my issues with the trailer, let me explain my gripes with the entire catalog. Now, when we first met these characters, they were just a bunch of motherfuckers racing cars in Los Angeles. Anyway, by the time we got to the fourth film, these cats were out here knocking off drug lords, ducking Interpol, robbing billionaires and all other sorts of tomfoolery. Keeping it a buck, I never understood how dudes like Dominic Toretto acquired all of these skills when he was supposed to be busy racing/fixing cars.

Look, I stuck by when Toretto somehow beat Luke Hobbs, a trained agent, in a fight. I stuck by when Toretto made the roof of a garage fall just by stomping on it. I stuck by when the crew jetted through Brazil with a fucking bank vault attached to their cars. Hell, I even stuck by when Toretto launched his car off of the aforementioned roof just to put a bomb on a flying helicopter. Now, folks mean to tell me, this entire time, Toretto’s brother was a master assassin? Son, if y’all don’t get the flying fuckity-fuck outta here!

First off, there is no planet where John Cena could be Vin Diesel‘s brother. Second, when the fuck did Cena’s character become this skilled, man? When Dom was fixing mufflers? Oh, and somehow, Han Lue is still alive? After we watched Deckard Shaw kill him? Bruh, what is Hollywood doing out here? Listen, there’s make-believe and then there’s this shit, fam. All I know is, the storyline is so far out of the realm of possibility that I can’t even enjoy it, people.

In the end, the only reason I might even remotely consider watching Fast & Furious 9 is because I’m a completionist. Ultimately, I’ve wasted enough brain cells on this franchise that I feel like I need to see it through to the end. Then again, I might just wait for this shit to hit my TV, son. At the end of the day, I can’t see myself giving these bums money for pure fuckery. That is all. LC out.

A Letter To Ari Shaffir

Dear Ari Shaffir,

So, instead of just flying off of the handle from the rip, I want to actually get a sense of what’s going on in your head. Like, I’ll never understand why some people think it’s cool to joke about death. With that being said, I’m honestly not here to talk to you about your feelings regarding Kobe Bryant. Instead, I genuinely want to know if you have a soul at all. The way I see it, no “joke” is worth coming off as a subhuman piece of sewer shit.

Ok, to be fair, you’ve been talking shit about Bryant for years. Frankly, ever since his rape charges were dropped, you’ve been VERY vocal about how you believe he got away with a crime. Now, even though you’re clearly not a fan of the man, I was still taken aback by the fuckery you spewed on Twitter and Instagram. Son, you were literally celebrating the fact that Bryant died. Apparently, his death is a “good story” and you shouted out the “hero who forgot to gas up his chopper.” Furthermore, for some reason, you thought it was appropriate to profess your hatred of the Los Angeles Lakers.

Now, keeping it a buck, I don’t even know where to begin, man. Look, as I said above, you can feel however you want to feel about Kobe Bryant. But, you fuck-face, eight other people died on that damn helicopter! Did you hate Gianna Bryant too? Did you also hate Christina Mauser? Did you hate Ara Zobayan, the Altobelli and Chester families as well? Is your hatred of one man so strong that you’re content with the demise of several teenagers and their parents? Good fucking Lord, you’re literally one of the worst fucking people I’ve ever witnessed in my life, bruh. All in all, if you think that Bryant’s death was karma, just wait until that shit comes back on you, dumbass. All I know is, I’d bet money that almost no one will cry for you.

In the end, good luck with those “jokes,” son. Ultimately, being an asshole has brought you greater visibility than any of your comedy routines, man. By and by, I hope you run into any of the family members from the people you’ve disrespected. All I can say is, sometimes street justice is the best form of justice, bruh. At the end of the day, I’m not telling you to care about Kobe Bryant. But, if other innocent lives don’t matter to you, then who’s the REAL evil person here? That is all.

Sincerely,

A dude who only knows that you exist because of Joe Rogan

RIP Kobe Bryant

Listen, let’s just skip the bullshit, son. On the real, I’m at a fucking loss for words right now, man. I mean, this story can’t be real, right? Like, are folks really trying to tell me that Kobe Bryant is dead? Fam, that doesn’t even make any fucking sense, bruh. All in all, I don’t know what else to say besides Rest In Peace to all of the folks who suddenly lost their lives yesterday.

Ok, for those who are living under a rock, tragic news just came out on Sunday. Now, according to reports, Bryant, along with eight other people, died in a helicopter crash in Calabasas, California. As of right now, no one knows what caused the helicopter to fall out of the sky. However, we do know that none of the passengers onboard survived. Sadly, in addition to Bryant, his daughter Gianna, Christina Mauser, John Altobelli, Alyssa Altobelli, Keri Altobelli, Sarah Chester, Payton Chester and pilot Ara Zobayan all perished in the crash. Needless to say, this entire situation is SUPER fucked up, son.

Look, if I’m being honest, I might be more sad about the young ones than anything else, man. I mean, death is always terrible, but it’s especially egregious when kids are involved, fam. Like, they will never have a chance to reach their full potential, bruh. Also, as a parent, I simply can’t imagine being in a situation knowing that I couldn’t save my kids. Frankly, that’s my worse fear as a father, brethren. Shit, I can’t take the idea of not being able to keep my children out of harm’s way. So, I’m fucked up just contemplating what everyone onboard might’ve been thinking in those final moments.

In the end, I’m not here to debate Bryant as a basketball player. Ultimately, we already know that he’s one of the greatest to ever lace up a pair of sneakers. By and by, I’m more upset about the fragility of life, son. With that being said, there are two lessons that I’ve taken from Kobe Bryant’s demise: one, life can truly end at a moment’s notice. Ok, yes, we all know that, but let’s be real, man. No one really expects to die prematurely. All in all, we need to live life to the fullest. Two, Bryant had an unparalleled work ethic. So, if anyone really wants to achieve something great, they better be prepared to put EVERYTHING into their craft, fam. In any case, RIP to all of people who needlessly lost their lives yesterday. That is all. LC out.

6ix9ine Finessed The System

So, here we are, son. After about a year of judges, lawyers and copious amounts of snitching, we finally know the fate of Tekashi 6ix9ine. Now, based on the charges he was facing, 6ix9ine could’ve been hit with a minimum of 47 years in prison. However, thanks to telling on everyone in Nine Trey, exposing people’s cards during Spades and revealing who shot Ghost in Power, 6ix9ine’s potential sentence has been DRASTICALLY reduced. *Sigh* I guess snitching really does pay, man.

Ok, for those who missed it, Judge Paul Englemayer officially let 6ix9ine know his future. Side bar, I’m calling him Daniel Hernandez for the rest of this post, fam. The way I see it, he’s not allowed to have a cool rapper name anymore, bruh. Anyway, thanks to Hernandez’ testimony against Aljermiah “Nuke” Mack, Anthony “Harv” Ellison, Kifano “Shotti” Jordan and the rest of the Eastern Seaboard, Englemayer gave him a two-year prison sentence. Keep in mind, Hernandez is also getting credit for time served. Meaning, he only has 11 months left behind bars.

Now, thanks to his cooperation, Hernandez’ lawyers hoped that he would be immediately released. However, Englemayer rebuked that theory. According to him, a lot of these crimes wouldn’t have been committed without Hernandez’ help. In fact, a bunch of the attempted hits were against other rappers that Hernandez had issues with. So, Englemayer didn’t just want to let him completely off of the hook.

Taking a step back, I want to briefly talk to the folks who are trying to justify Hernandez’ actions. Listen, he was a WILLING participant in Nine Trey’s fuckery, son. Frankly, he had NO problems with their movements when he was literally authorizing violence on other people (Trippie Redd / Chief Keef). He had NO problems with their movements when he was starting shit with gang members from Los Angeles and Chicago. But, as soon as the energy turned to him, he ratted everyone out. So, nah, the caping has to stop, man. On the real, he’s not a fucking victim here. The way I see it, he invited all of this chaos into his own life. That’s how karma fucking works, fam.

In the end, Hernandez finessed the system, bruh. Ultimately, he’s getting only a small fraction of the consequences for his actions, son. By and by, we’ll see if anybody tries to make a move on him. At the end of the day, he’ll probably be looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life, man. *Sigh* I wonder if the success of “Gummo” was worth it, fam. Probably not, bruh. Probably not. That is all. LC out.

A Bald Man’s Letter To LeBron James

Dear LeBron James,

On the real, I’m not here to speak with you about your game. I mean, it’s generally understood that you’re one of the greatest basketball players of all time. Shit, depending on who you ask, you’ve already passed Michael Jordan as the GOAT. In any case, I’m not here to talk about your Los Angeles Lakers or the rest of the NBA. Frankly, I’m here, as a brother, to advise you about your hair. All I can say is, it’s time to fucking let it go, son.

Now, let’s keep it a buck, man. Seriously, we all saw what happened against the Utah Jazz, fam. Hell, Anthony Davis tried to warn you about what was going on, bruh. Needless to say, your lace front fell out, son. In the middle of a game, brethren. On national television. Like, do I even need to explain how embarrassing that is, kinfolk?

Look, for years (and years and fucking years), you’ve tried to avoid baldness like the plague. At the beginning of every season, it looks like you’ve found the cure for male pattern baldness. Then, like 20 games into the season, your real hairline resurfaces. From there, you look like Bobo the Clown for trying to convince us that this was your actual hair. All I know is, enough is fucking enough, son.

Listen, before you think that I’m judging you, allow me to be transparent about myself. Now, despite being bald, I can still technically grow hair on my head. In actuality, I began shaving it off because my front hairline started to go from a straight line to a McDonald’s arch. Anyway, the way my pride is setup, I couldn’t continue to front (and argue with my Jamaican barber) like my shit was still pristine, man. So, I told him to buzz it all off. That was February of 2009. The truth is, I’ve been blissfully happy ever since, fam.

All in all, you don’t have to go through this, bruh. The last time I checked, Jordan was/is your favorite player, son. Real talk, he made baldness cool, man. The way I see it, you don’t have to dealt with this anguish, fam. Just let the hair follicles go and let your scalp be free, brethren. From my viewpoint, your scalp wants to be free anyway.

In the end, come join the team, son. Ultimately, it’s enjoyable on this side, man. By and by, I haven’t worn a durag in a decade, fam. Furthermore, I can go to sleep/wake up without brushing my hair, bruh. At the end of the day, I’m offering you liberation, LeBron. Please, embrace what nature is already trying to show you. It’s the only way, brethren.

Sincerely,

A fan who doesn’t want to see you suffer anymore