Diddy owns your soul. B*tch

I usually don't post other peoples work. This was just too funny.

Maronzio Vance: comedian.

Ziti's Guide To Crew Love

In an effort to strengthen the bonds that exist between members of various clans, crews, posses and cliques, I, The Great Zee-Dini, will present a guide that will impart practical skill sets in maintaining "crew love".  You can't successfully maneuver a crew through the rigors of life if you don't understand the basic tenets of nurturing your crew with the love needed to survive. Follow these guidelines to insure the survival of your crew…as well as yourself.

1. If you're getting money, hit everyone in your crew with some money.  

I ran with this crew one time. We're all hustling. We're all trying to make some sh*t happen.  Two people are in the front. Me and everyone else were in the back (working nonetheless).   When payday came, the crew leader broke off himself and the dude right next to him.  I got nothing. Late nights of blood, sweat and tears got me zero.  I didn't get stupid. I gave that crew the finger and got my own sh*t.  My words to that wack-ass-go-nowhere crew: You can have your little nickel and dime, unorganized hustle.  No one is checking for you and you're washed up.  

Remember this: If you're getting cash and your crew members are on "E", they will come and step to you. Or they'll just quit dealing with you. Period.

2. If you're DUMB, you are NOT IN CHARGE.

Some of you muthaf**kers aren't that bright.  Some of you buttmunchers have all the sense of a bag of sea hag titties. But you seem to think you can be a leader or be in charge of some sh*t.  Man, listen. You can hardly count to 10. You can hardly spell. You can't make a firm decision to save your f**king life. SIT THE F*CK DOWN SOMEWHERE. I'm serious. Find the smart person in your crew and elect him/her leader. It could save your life one day. 

3. If you have low to no self-esteem/self confidence, you need to "get that together" before it causes problems in your life (and your crew).  

This is one of the strongest principles on this list. If you don't have a good amount of self-esteem/ self-confidence, you will fail yourself (as well as your crew). Why? How? When you have LOW self-love, you will start to secretly hate the people around you. 

For example:

*If you're overweight and you're overly self-conscious, it's going to cause problems.  

*If you don't like the way you look, it's going to cause problems. 

*If your home girls/boys cop ass and you don't/can't, it's going to cause problems. 

*If your jealous that good fortune seems to hit your crewmembers (more than you), it's going to cause problems.

*If you meet chicks and they constantly blow you off, DEAL with those issues or your crew is f*cked.

Speaking of which…

4. Embrace the crew babe magnet.

I have this friend named Darnell.  He's tall, smart, funny and chicks thinks he is FINE.  Cool.  We go places and his sh*t just lights up.  The babes dig him.  I'm so cool with that. Why?  Gottdammit…. I'm ME!!! I do sh*t that Darnell doesn't do. I might mush a chick in the face and then ask for her phone number…and get it!  I might cuss at a chick and then be able to nail her ass to a wall later. Darnell might be the cute one--but dammit--I'll dangle a chick over a hotel balcony! And she'll love me for it!!! I do sh*t like that.  Those are my mutant powers! Never be jealous of the crew chick magnet.  You're going to bask in his residue anyway.  Hot chicks usually run in packs. There is power in your own individuality.    

Take the X-Men for example; they all have different powers.  How lame would it be for everyone in the crew to have Iceman's powers? Or every chick in your crew to be like Storm? Darnell may be Cyclops, but dammit I'm Wolverine---I'm crazy and I'll rip somebody to shreds. And my bone is metal.  Metal.     

5. Never get involved in your homies relationships.  

Ladies: if your girl tells you about her "no good" boyfriend, it is not your place to try and counsel/advise him---unless you're trying to f*ck him. This shit right here can get you killed.  Haven't you wisenheimers seen the movie Casino? Guys: if you think there is a problem in one of the homies relationship, don't get involved unless there is physical abuse. UNLESS YOUR ARE ASKED TO INTERVENE, DO NOT GET INVOLVED.  Mind your own business.  Many crews are dissolved with some dude/chick trying to play Captain Save-a-Hoe.  Ladies: Add commentary when asked or you're involved DIRECTLY. Don't front. When you're alone with your girl's man and you're spilling the beans (HER beans), it's because you want to f*ck him.  You could give a rat's ass about their relationship.

DUDES: It's okay to talk to your man's girl…IF you're mending fences between your man and HIS babe.  It's not cool to get your man's girl alone and air his ass out. MEN DON'T DO THAT TYPE OF SH*T (my Dad says so).  Dudes [who do that] are trying to cop ass from your girl…on the low (my Dad says that too).    

6. Take the weakest dude in your crew and put him on the bench.  

Self-Explanatory.  Is he a habitual crier? Does he hate women? Can he carry out assignments on his own and stay focused? Does he fall in line, when the majority rules? Does he show his ass for chicks (like my 4-year-old nephew)? If so, bench him.  Or kill his ass. 

7. Take the wackest dude in your crew and put him on the bench.  

Self-Explanatory. Is he the bummy dude in a crew of crispy dudes? You cop fresh Timbs; he cops fresh Jimbs (a.k.a. Jimberland boots)? Is he rocking slang/clothes that was hot when Kriss Kross was on top of the charts? 

Does she ass kiss the very people she swears that she hates? If so, bench him/her.  Or kill his/her ass.

Oh yeah…..

8. If you present yourself as a fucking bum or "homely" you have no business being in front.

How come when everyone sees you, you're dressed raggedy?  Do you keep your appearance up? Do you use deodorant? Ladies: do you take vinegar baths?  Does your wardrobe consist of old ass Van Halen Tour t-shirts from 1984? Step your clothing/hygiene game up.  You dumb ass. You are representing your entire crew!  Buy yourself some new kicks, some khakis from THE GAP and stop leaving the house dressed like a f*cking vagrant.

      

9. Men: never try to one up another man for a woman.  Be yourself.  You may just have a chance. Maybe. You sucker. 

Women outnumber men in most places 10 to 1. Translation: TEN BABES FOR EVERY ONE DUDE. If you try to shine on a crewmember over some broad, just remember, it's not worth it.  The dissension this will cause will bring a crew to its knees.  Most chicks can pick up when a dude is trying to outshine one of his partners.  Who likes a cornball that always has to try and one up his "mansandthem"?  I knew this former crewmember that tried to crack wise, on me, in front of this babe.  The chick was feeling ME, but his lame ass wanted to tap it. Cool. I'm figuring if it's that deep you can have her.  He tried to shine and crack his weak little jokes.  Uh-huh. Sure thing, homie. 

By the way, she's in my kitchen right now, making veggie burgers…butt naked. Ha! I slay me. HEY!!! MORE CHEESE ON THEM BURGERS, Ma!!!

10. A business card and a cell phone do not make you a CEO.

Two reasons why this is on the list: 1. Flashing your business card and breaking out the smartphone just makes you look like a herb.  2. Crew members see you as an herb who just tries to assert nothingness.  

11. Just because you're in front, does not make you the leader. 

The guy who steers the boat is the captain. Period. Just because you talk, doesn't mean you make the decisions.  Most of the time, the person in the crew that talks the most, knows very little.

12. If you secretly hate your friends (and their accomplishments) you need to take a good long look in the mirror. 

You're probably the "crew rat".  You should just go into hiding with Henry Hill and Color Me Badd. Many crews will have a "crew rat". It's usually the person YOU DON'T want/need it to be.  

13. If you have guns, let your crew know.  

That way, when traitorous crew "front on you", they have to constantly look over their shoulder.  Check this out...I own 3 heaters. THREE. EVERYONE knows. Nuff said.  

14. Love someone...who you're not sleeping with and who is not your mom.

15. Talk less. Listen more

Shut the f*ck up.  Open your ears and listen…MORE.

16. If you talk shit about someone, be prepared to enjoy a good swift punch in the facial region. 

I believe in one thing whole-heartedly: If you try and assassinate me (character assassination or physical), I'm going to get you.  It may not be today. It may not be tomorrow. I will get you. You can take that sh*t to bank.  If former/present crew EVER said anything about me and I found out, I'll see you. And I don't care who gets involved. Somebody's mom will cry.* Trust me. I keep my word.

NOTE: *Won't be my mom, her tear ducts don't work. 

Don't talk about former crew in public. Matter of fact, don't mention those cats at all. Keep it moving.   

If you part ways with a crew (and sh*t is quiet), keep it that way.  Your talk isn't going to earn you anything but an ass whupping.  What happens: you can part ways from a crew and talk trash. A year or two goes by and you're thinking sh*t is sweet. Uh huh. One day, when you're in the bagel spot, my man Big Free comes up to you and knocks you the f*ck out.  AND he houses your sesame bagel and butter cream spread.   

17. LOVE YOURSELF ENOUGH.

Even though some of this sh*t was comical, this all boils down to LOVE.  Love yourself.  Love your hair. Love the way you look. Love how you talk.  Word to El DeBarge.  If you don't like yourself, change your thinking and inject love where the hate is.  It's all about love, man.

p.s. 

Some of you cats are going to see me---when you least expect it.  You can take that sh*t to the bank. 

Somebody's mom will cry.** 

Won't be my mom. Her tear ducts don't work.**

Eternal Sunshine Of The Rotless Mind

Eternal Sunshine Of The Rot-less Mind

“We have a built-in allergy to unpleasant or disturbing information”
-Edward R. Murrow-

We live in an age where anything [we do] can be broadcast, posted, emailed, goggled, youtubed, etc, etc. Most of the time, we are the self-publishers of our own content. We cram our baby photos, prom pics and “drunken slut @ the club bent over showing her ass” pictures down peoples throats…on purpose. This is the age we live in. We’ve progressed (or regressed---depending on your perspective) to become a culture where our intimacies are transmitted/viewed/downloaded daily. I mean, isn’t it cool that we put our children’s pictures on Myspace so that some perv 3000 miles can jerk off to them? Really folks, isn’t technology grand?

The downside to this self media-fied onslaught is there is an editing process that never seems to happen---especially with writing. I’ve read countless blogs, emails, Myspace bulletins, Facebook profiles, company newsletters, yadda, yadda, yadda and one thing is very apparent: some of you muthafuckers are dumber than a box of rocks.

You don’t realize what a disservice you’re doing to yourselves when you don’t sit back and say, “Hey, before I send this out, let me make sure this shit reads properly”. Now granted, I’m not saying that I’m the ghost of James Baldwin. I’m nowhere even close. However, I do feel that I understand BASIC sentence structure. Somewhere, 5th grade Reading class eluded you. Seriously, are we reading what we write? You have to sit back and scrutinize your postings/emails, just a little, before you possibly let millions of people read this shit. How in the porn fuck do you send me an email or bulletin and expect me to come out to your event, sock-hop or sociopolitical function? Good god, man! You write like a 4th round NFL draft pick! Do you even consider spell check? Better yet, did you ever take English 101? Can you spell “English 101”? No fair, I just spelled it for you.

You know what? Ziti is willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. I figure there must be reasons to why your literary works have the substance of ass lint.

Ziti’s 10 reasons why your writing skills are horrendous:

***You are a newly freed slave.

***You were the star football player in a high school where the athletic program was applauded more than academia. You don’t know a nickel from a quarter, but fuck it; you can catch a 40-yard pass. No Coach Carter over there.

***You just got your green card and English is your second language.

***You’re Mother and Father are also your aunt and your uncle.

***You’re a washed up, wannabe rapper, still using 90’s Hip-Hop vernacular. You

have to prove to everyone that you still “roc ruff rhymez & ur bringin terra 2 R era”. Yeah sun, you b havin madd skilz on the m.i.c.

***A few years back there was a controversy surrounding a student who orally “serviced” a high school English teacher to get a good grade. Are you that girl (or gay young man)?

***While 3 months pregnant with you, your mom says: “Hey a little wine during pregnancy won’t hurt the baby”. At 7 months pregnant with you, your mom says: “Hey a little Vodka won’t hurt the baby”. At 9 months pregnant your mom says: “Fuck it, the cocaine only goes in MY nose”.

***Sometimes community college can be a great place to meet people.

***You don’t give a fuck about how your lack of eloquence portrays you. You’re just trying to express yourself.

***You’re an X-man and your mutant power is to be dumb.

Come the hell on, man. I’m not trying to be harsh kiddies, but gottdamn!!! Take preventive measures before you send out your electronic fuckery again.
One piece of advice: Proofread. Proofread. Proof READ. La Proofia Readia. PROOFUS READUS MAXIMUS.

Do yourself the favor and don’t let the world know how dumb you really are. Some of you Junie B. Jones buttmunchers need not write anything…ever. When your girl finishes her vinegar bath, ask her to PLEASE read over that shit you just wrote. Please.

C’mon man…even Fantasia “got right”.

Love,

Zee.Ziti.Zillah

Suggested reading:

The Elements of Style by Strunk & White
(You need this if you’re even considering being a serious writer.)

Stephen King On Writing by Stephen King
(The horror master gives you a pragmatic view on polishing your craft.)

Green Eggs & Ham by Dr. Seuss
(This book is pure genius! No jokes, this book is eloquent and succinct. It’s simple, yet brilliant. It’s fun. It’s Illustrated! WTF! If you can’t grasp this shit you don’t have any business writing anything---not even your own name! Try them. Try them. Yes you may.)

Babies.....I'm a star!!!!!!!

An open letter of congratulations to Prince

Come on. You know we can't front on that half time show. That shit was coconuts! First off, the stage was the shape of your unpronounceable former name. I say you are the real gangster. I mean, the only thing 50 Cent can do is come out on a stage shaped like two quarters. How fucking lame is that? But you? You got those tight asses at the NFL to co-sign a purple stage that basically represents sexual ambiguity or male/female intercourse, or some such. That says a lot after the Damita Jo & Whiteboy scandal of Superbowl past. Speaking of scandal, you know they were scared you were going to do something "risque" during your performance. That turning sideways move, that some media pundits are talking about, is tame for your standards. They were waiting for you to hump the stage (think "Darling Nikki" scene from Purple Rain).

Sir, you are the real gangster. Who else can come out wearing a freshly tailored pastel suit, rocking a bandana/scarf on his head ala Tupac? Fuck it, you knew it was gonna rain and you just got your hair did. Besides, America didn't tune in to see a ratty perm. If they wanted that, they could tune in to 106 & Park.

p.s. Hey Princey, the media reported that you covered Dylan's "All Along The Watchtower". I dig Dylan and all, but I prefer to think that you rocked that in homage to Jimi's version. Give me that one....please.

Like you, Jimi was rockstar.

Funky Dividends

Some of my uncles have been locked up. Some for bribing cops. Some for trying to stuff a small bag of weed inside a box of Milk Duds. One of my uncles had a bootleg DVD operation the size of a small Wal-Mart (you know---the ones without the grocery store inside). Like Napoleon Dyna, I have an uncle named Rico. Uncle Rico is character, although I would dare not call him that to his face. He's charismatic. He's smart. He's a "unique" dresser. Chicks like him. He's cool. He's the kind of uncle that every young boy needs: he's not overly protective and stately like your father and he's not an asshole like your older brother. He's cool. But make no mistake....get "Reek" riled up and he will bring the pain like Meth. He has just enough cowboy in him to fuck someone up.

The most ingenious thing Uncle Reek ever hipped me to was his manifesto: "The Rico-Festo". The Rico-Festo was the bible for young men in our family. It was a guide to relationships, women, money and survival. Although a bit elementary in its statement, the Rico-Festo has a brilliance that hasn't been matched since Orwell wrote Animal Farm.

THE RICO - FESTO

1. Sometimes its okay to smack a woman. Just make sure you do it in private, while listening to a "slow jam" mixtape.

2. If you happen to be stranded in the desert and you have a salmon in your pocket, you can survive off the "fish juice".

3. If you have to pee, try not to hold it.

4. If you're having problems with your woman, you can yell and scream at the top of your lungs---just don't hit her (unless she likes to box and can take a good punch).

5. If you're in situation #4 (above) don't throw/break objects in the house. 9 times out of 10 your money bought the shit that you're throwing.

6. Never steal cable TV.....straight from the outside box. Make friends with a neighbor. After you become chummy, go to Radio Shack, buy some co-ax cable. If the cable is long enough you can run it from your "mansandthem" house.

7. Always keep aluminum foil handy. You never know when you're going to have to use a public toilet.

8. Always keep balloons and baby oil handy. You never know when you'll run out of condoms.

9. Keep your nails trimmed. You don't want people to think you sniff coke.

10. Grown men don't wear sandals. Flip flops are acceptable ONLY when worn with clean white socks.

11. If you like a woman, pay her no attention. Their inability to to be ignored will have you "up in that" in record time.

12. If you want to stop an argument with a woman, pay her no attention. Because they have the inability to accept being ignored, she'll probably throw herself on you (in naked fashion) just to get your attention. Like #11, you'll be "up in that" in record time.

13. Always keep about $2000 to $3000 in safe keeping. You never know when you'll have to make bail.

14. Never eat cold cake.

15. If an old girlfriend wants you to come over and catch up on "old times" always meet in a public place. Also, don't allow her to get/make you any drinks. She may be trying to kill you.

16. Drink lemonade with cayenne pepper at least once a month. This will make your fists heavy like rock.

17. Drink green tea with cayenne pepper at least once a month. This will give your penis properties like rock.

18. If you get mad at your bike, throw it against a wall. That will "toughen it up".

19. If you need to go into a store and they are about to close, run & slide underneath the pull down gate like they do in the Indiana Jones movies.

20. Always make your knives out of soap. If you have to shank someone you can wash your ass with the evidence.

Dear Jigga (a.k.a. It was all good a week ago)

[NOTE: The following editorial was written in NOVEMBER for a hip hop website. Due to deadlines and scheduling, the article wouldn't run until well into 2007. That threw a wrench in my plans because a lot of the references are anchored to November 2006. Since the nature of the article is time sensitive, I decided to post it on the blog. Some of the references are somewhat dated, but hopefully, you'll get the overall picture.]

-Ziti.

Dear Jiggaman

It’s me…Ziti. First of all, I would like to start this off by saying congratulations on the new album. I heard it’s on track to sell 850,000 copies in its first week. Wow! That is very impressive, Mr. Carter. Given that current sales of Hip Hop music are just as strong as the levees in New Orleans, I consider that a great feat. The only other Hip Hop albums this year that have come close to gold or plat in the first week have been T.I.’s “King” and that crazy Compton schizo, The Game’s “Doctor’s Advocate”. But you? You’re almost at a million copies! Wow. That says a lot since Hip Hop/Rap music hasn’t been getting the jerk off it’s been accustomed to. Around this time 2002, 2003, you could take a shit in a jar, call it "Hip-Hop" and it would sell a million copies. Way back when. You should be proud of yourself.

But there are two sides to every coin…aren’t there? While you’ve been something of a “press darling” lately (see EW, Life mag, 60 Minutes) your core audience/fans-since-day-one got beef. The streets are talking and a lot of it isn’t good. Now before you say “oh boy, another hater”, hold up S Dot; “Hater” I’m not. I actually like your music. In fact, unlike those Blueprint and Reasonable Doubt bandwagoneers/dickriders, I think that “Hard Knock Life Vol. 2” is a frigging masterpiece. It’s probably the most cohesive album in your catalog and the underlying theme, that no ones seem to pick up on, is brilliant. But I digress.

Why does it seem, critically, that everyone and their moms hate this fucking album? I mean even the heads that tried to take a dump on The Black Album would rather sing its praises than give Kingdom Come its P’s. Why is everyone giving you shit for recycling that beat for “Show Em What You Got”? Why is everyone saying that you’re rehashing the same concepts from albums past? Or that you’re tired? Or that this LP plays like The Black Album Part 2? Some have even said this album is probably on par to be the wackest/weakest album of your career. I wouldn’t go that far; that honor belongs to that hodge podge Hard Knock Life Vol. 1 (that shit was all over the place, trust me). In the words of the great Pete Rock: “I rarely hear a totally wack album, just things that could be improved upon”. Do I think KC is pure garbage? No. I think there is some other things going on with you and maybe, JUST MAYBE, you didn’t have the time to finesse it the way you probably would’ve like to. Maybe.

But you want me to tell you the real reason everyone is pissed at you? Well, let me let you in on a lil secret……they’re disappointed. And not just in the album, but at you. Three years ago you were named president of Def Jam. You and Dame had parted ways and you became the sole boss of Rocafella. You had just put out the Black Album and Fade to Black was in theaters. You and Reebok did a deal and those generic looking S. Carter sneaks sold like crack in the 80’s. Life was good. You announced some of your potential signees: Lady Sovereign, Talib Kweli, The Roots and that loon ass Fox Boogie Brown. You did a mash up LP with Linkin Park, which in turn solidified your standing with the TRL crowd (smart move, even if the live show was better than the LP itself). You dubbed your new regime “The Carter Administration” and even appeared real strong with your “cabinet” on the cover of XXL. To top it off, you announced the “I Declare War” concert and had everyone guessing who was going to incur your wrath. To our surprise, you brought out Nasir and declared you guys long standing beef “dead”. Shortly afterwards, God’s Son was signed to the Def Jam stable. Things couldn’t have been better.

“It was all good just a week ago”.

Here’s where it starts to go wrong.

March 2006 Def Jam releases what fans and critics hail as a masterpiece: Ghostface Killah’s Fishscale. Outside of Gnarls Barkley this dude is the most critcally acclaimed dude on the planet. But you know that (if not, there is always google). The first single “Back Like That” is hitched to the growing popularity of modern R&B hopeful, Ne-Yo, who sings the chorus on said track. You brought Kanye in to extend the life of the single, with a guest spot on the songs remix. No follow up single, no promotion. As of November that album hasn’t even reached gold. In December he will release a follow-up entitled More Fish. That album, no matter how good, will probably be relegated to the same fate of being under promoted and poorly marketed

August 2006. Def Jam promises two heaters in the form of Method Man’s 4: 21 The Day After and The Roots Game Theory. Here’s where shit starts to really get stupid. Meth’s career, for all his past glory, has been somewhat inconsistent as of late. Once a Hip Hop staple, Meth has let bad albums define his later career as a solo emcee. On top of that, he’s always pissed and barking on someone. Aside from poor sitcoms, Method really is a star (he just saves his heat for guest spots on other rappers songs). I don’t know what he smoked this go round or what “pep talk” you gave him, but this last album was a winner. The lead single “Say” was not only brilliant in its honesty, it also reminded me of the genius that is Lauryn Hill (hey, all broads get kooky in one way or another). Prior to the release of the album, he was doing radio across the country and promoting that album like a politician. November 2006? See Ghostface Killah.

The Roots? Oh my stars?!?!? I thought you had this one sewn up. These dudes are the Hip Hop equivalent of The Dave Matthews Band. They tour constantly and the live shows are the stuff of legend. They got a supreme look by backing your live shows (illadelphonics) and they featured prominently in funnyman Dave Chappelle’s Block Party. Not only do they work like pack mules, Black Thought, whether we admit this or not, is probably one of the illest spitters in the game. Their heralded Radio City Music Hall shows were net worthy for months. So what happened? Def Jam crams three songs into a lone single/video/commercial. Oh yeah, they had some “gift with purchase” shit at OkayPlayer. Wow. But I did see a guy with a “Game Theory” T-shirt on at Borders. That must count for something…..right? Game Theory first week sales? 58,000. The funny thing is, ex-Britney Spears loafer, Kevin Federline posted somewhere like 6 or 7 thou in his first week. Now, while we may snicker, it’s a sad world when the only thing that separates The Roots and K-Fed are roughly 50,000 more albums sold. But don’t worry Jigga; fortunately for The Roots, constant touring means their kids can still eat off of this hip hop ish. And speaking of white bread rap, Lady Sovereign anyone? Damn Hov, that was a bird in the hand right there! She’s white and she’s a girl! That’s a media jack-off right there! Got damn Napoleon Dynamite can sell Lady Sovereign! You had that one, Hov……you had that one.

The upside? Kanye did well. He’s becoming quite the quintessential Hip Hop “personality”. You know? He’s one of those rappers, no matter how good the music, who are known for their antics on and OFF wax (see Tupac, ODB, Lil Kim, Fox, Em, Flav). Jeezy and Rick Ross still continue to sell more coke than Pablo Escobar (yeah). Ludacris did well, but I think he sees the handwriting on the wall. He pushes the hell out of the DTP brand with no mention of Def Jam. Rihanna? Well….she is pretty. Teirra Marie? Well…..she is pretty (and gone from the Roc). Christina Milian? Well….she was pretty too (that “Dip It Low” video was hot---chocolate sauce and all--but it acted as a double edged sword….but that was before your time). LL is pissed and siding with Curtis “Interscope” Jackson. And speaking of Curtis; you and G-Unit going halfsies on the upcoming Freeway project? I must admit I wasn’t impressed by him at first, but “What we do” was an undeniable banger. (see Just Blaze). DMX? He bounced…..but that might’ve been a good thing.

Did I leave anyone out? Oh yeah, I almost forgot Fab and Nasir. Fabo, if finessed right, can be lucrative. Girls like him, he got swagger and he has some street cred (see Just Blaze, DJ Envy, DJ Clue). You can sell it, but not on the strength of him being shot. Getting bucked at worked for 50, because there was a larger back story to accompany the gun clap. But just because the bullets ring out, don’t think you’ll see record sales (see Cam’ron, Obie Trice). Matter of fact, the only ones to really flip gunfire into sales, outside of 50, and do it properly, was The Geto Boys and Bushwick. But I digress.

Nasir can win this year. Even though critics are yapping that he’s flipping the same beat for “Hip Hop Is Dead” as he did for “Thiefs Theme” who the hell cares? In today’s music, the attention span of these youngsters is so short, you can remake “Laffy Taffy” next year and call it “Nutter Butter” and these kids won’t know the fucking difference. Nasir has a chance, provided he comes with a STRONG album with about 10-12 songs. We know he could hold it down lyrically, just get him 10 solid tracks and he’s “in there” (see Illmatic).

All in all, your ascension to the ranks of record exec is probably the Hip Hop equivalent to the OJ verdict. People are divided down the middle. Some jumped for joy and felt that it’s good for Hip Hop, while others are pissed (and rightfully so) because their projects and careers will either be back burner-ed, neglected or over shadowed by your “return to the game”.

End in the end, what will define Kingdom Come? People are pissed because they want to see “next level” Jigga, not some guy who let Dipset get his goat. Speaking of which, you went at Jimmy and it was so-so. Know why? Jimmy never professed to be some lyrical phenom. He’s a Harlem cat trying to get money. He’s just taunting you. Jim’s like that cat in High School who always has something smart to say….just because he can get away with it. Not only that, people root for him (that Dipset cult following is sick). In all honesty, his barbs are just profile raisers. He goes at you and you got heated and went at him (and Cam). In the end, no “Ether” exchanged. If you went at anyone I thought it would have been the Game. Why? Remember this:

“As far as my release date, November 14th, and Jay dropping on the 21st, he should move his album away, because this album … like Jay is a legend, we all love Jay and respect Jay but it’s that out of retirement album. It’s the are we gonna get the old Michael Jordan back or are gonna get that Mike that played for the Wizards so everyone’s is gonna wait to see what he’s gonna do — but I know what I got.”
-The Game, October 2006-

Chuck Taylor talked smack and got away, scot free. You stayed clear of him, which is funny, considering he went at Bleek, Young Gunz and fellow Def Jammie Joe Budden. I mean, he went at Bleek for crissakes! What gives? Addressing that would have given KC an edge. Not these disses aimed at people who joked you for wearing sandals.

Kingdom Come kinda feels like the Uncle who sees his nephews playing basketball in the backyard and wants to show the youngbloods that he “still got it”. But after a half hour on the court, he realizes that it’s a young mans game and goes inside to soak in Epsom. Do you still have it? I think so. Next time, just pace yourself. You can still show these whippersnappers a thing or two.

Hov 2006? I have to give it to you---you got on your “A-game”. You toured the world in support of the World Water Crisis. You jumped on some remixes. You did a Reasonable Doubt 10th Anniversary concert. You got back in the mixtape game. You pulled off a U.S. Tour in a day. You were on damn near every website and mag cover. All very commendable. Now take a ¼ of that effort and put it towards some of your artists and you may win yet. To paraphrase that tired Hair Club For Men infomercial “you’re not just a client, you’re the President”. You just have to figure out if you want to be hailed, akin to Roosevelt or Kennedy or have it fall apart like Nixon or George W.

It is a hard knock life after all.

(Hey's Y'all!!! It be time fo de COONies!)

3dA News

(now with footnotes!)

presents:
Raged Against The Machine

New developments. New projects. New news.

CALLING OUT NAMES
Rrrrrrrr matey......and shiver me timbers! All hands on deck! Prepare the gallows so these lollygaggin' landlovers can gather themselves to walk ye ol' plank! (Thought I'd try the pirate thing. Seems my female compatriots loves that sh*t when Johnny Depp does it.)

Anyhoo....

I'd like to announce the formation of the FIRST ANNUAL COONIE Awards. Yup. I said it......COON-ie Awards. As in: Grammy, Tony, Emmy.........Coonie. It's not my fault. You made it this way. Hey! You want to be a minstrel? Fine. I got you. You want to "shuck"? You want to "jive"? I got you. You really want to be a circus monkey? I see you. And now you're going to get an award for your hard work and all of your strides in the "art of coonery". To paraphrase the words of the great EPMD, "music is outta control". And some of you have been dying to say something, but you won't. Don't worry.......Ziti got you. The great citizens of this country have had enough of this minstrel-ology. We're putting you on blast. And it's not just the lame music programmers at MTV/BET that deserves some of this hellfire. Nosireebob! Some of you local acts been coon-ing it up too. I know......I keep acting up. It's in my blood ese! Viva La Raza!!! To those who've been dancing that jig all over America......we salute you!

Some of the awards presented:

**The MC HAMMER "Dance For Popcorn Chicken" Lifetime Achievement Award"
**The "I'm a Male Rapper and My Earrings look Like Doorknobs" Award
**The "I Can Turn My 5XL White T-Shirt Into A Dress" Award
**The "I'm a Talentless Skank But I Slept With A Record Label Exec To Get My Recording Contract" Award
**The "Notorious B.I.G. is Probably Rolling In His Grave" Award
**The "I Don't Rap, Sing or Dance, I'm Just Part of The Entourage" Award (a.k.a. Glorified Weed Carrier Award)
**The "I Look Thugged Out (mean face) In My Video Because The Record Label Is Bending Me Over" Award
**The "I Used To Be a Third Rate Drug Dealer, But Now I Got A Sneaker Deal" Award
**The "I Should Have Kept My Music On Myspace" Award
The "Laffy Taffy, I Made This Beat On A Fisher Price 'My First Keyboard' " Award
**The "I Look Like I Just Woke Up and Wore This To The Gig" Award (some of you local cats are front runners for this sh*t right here!)
**The "Al Jolson would proclaim me heir to the throne" Award

Why am I doing this? In the words of my dear mother: "I'm so sick of you. No, I really mean it."

Some of you lames have really perverted this great thing we call "music". And some of you prima donna local cats are really going to catch it. Oh, you a star now? You grovel and beg me to buy that drink coaster you call an album, but we always catch you fronting like you're Michael Jackson. C'mon homie, during the day you make sandwiches at Wawa! Oh, but I forgot, you're a superstar. Righhhhhhhhht. Wink Wink. You Liberace-ass herbs will be the first to be put on that Summer Jam screen. People talk, man. They just haven't built up the nerve to call you out. But I'm doing it......and I dare you to say something. I hooked back up with GangGreen and these cats roll deep like ol' school Earth Wind & Fire. "You gotta crew? You better tell em".

Repeat after me: "MYSPACE DOES NOT MAKE ME A SUPERSTAR. I JUST USE IT TO VINDICATE MYSELF FOR BEING WORTHLESS IN HIGH SCHOOL." HAHAHA. Don't get mad. I'm just having fun. See this smile on my face? Ear to ear, baby! [1]

The f#ckin' Wawa.......jeez. [2]

Daddy's going to have to teach you to stop drinking your own pee. Now go outside and break pappy a switch off that tree.

Now I haven't handed out any of these gold statues yet, so get your sh*t together before you get one. And the next time you come to rock a show and you're dressed like a Gym teacher, I'm dead on your ass like Spenser For Hire. (I'm talking pics, reviews, the whole 9). When K. Cobain said "Come As You Are" you took that sh*t way too literally. A bar of Lever 2000 (or Doc Bronners) and some khaki's from the Gap (or Old Navy) never hurt anyone.

Try me if you want.

p.s. I wasn't involved in that ruckus @ "the spot". I threw no chairs. I threw no punches. Do I know those cats? Yes. I was there, SOLO, on my Doug E. Fresh vibe (a.k.a. "coolin in the shade/sippin' the lemonade"). I got an email the next day saying "Yo Ziti, I didn't know you got down like that" You know what? I didn't know I got down like that either, ma......because I don't! Next thing you know, cats are in the street saying "Yo son, Ziti thinks he's thug now son!" Nawwwwwww man. They trying to get me like that got Fabolous.....ahem.....I mean F-A-B-O-L-O-U-S.
There is no G-Unit tank top/bra in my future. I'm a low key dude and my parents raised me better. Besides, I listen to "Self Destruction"[3] at least once a month. Umi says [4].


Like Mary J. Blige, I can love you better.


ziti/zee a.k.a. godZillah [5]
3dA / GangGreen

3dA
.....There's only one disco / don't close one more/ you ain't guarding the door / so what you got a gun for? [6]

Footnotes:
[1] Quote from the movie Boiler Room
[2] I have nothing against Wawa or its employees. IN FACT, MOST OF THE NEIGHBORHOOD HOTTIES WORK THERE (second only to Target). I stop there for the $2.14 gas and reasonably priced juice & snacks every morning. That's how I know you work there. Shout out to my girl, Steph.
[3] Classic anti-violence track featuring some of the greatest rappers to ever rock the mic.
[4] Dante/Mos....what the f*ck were you thinking bro? That sh*t is "TrueTragic". I dug "Katrina Clap". But thats where the line is drawn. You need to hook back up with Tek and Kweli and leave Bruce Willis alone!
[5] My new alias. In the flicks, they only unleash Godzilla when there is a problem. Trust me, there's a problem.
[6] MC Lyte (as a rock)

Kiwi Love Lemonade

I've been writing a lot lately. Judging by the frequency of my blog postings, you would never know it. January 2006. Let's begin. I’ve been working a lot. I'm on my "grizzly" or as the Negroes say "I'm on my grind". I've kinda been in a surreal, funky mind state lately. I don’t think I do things that help it, either.

Walking Pneumonia. That was the diagnosis from Cynthia. Cynthia is a nurse at the General Hospital. I met her in the coffee shop in the neighborhood. I like her. Not in “that way”, but I like her. We had this real decent talk about Ntozake Shange and Janis Joplin one afternoon. During our conversation, the specter of my perpetual cough reared its fucking ugly head. She told me I should come by the hospital where she works. I told her I didn’t have insurance. She said I shouldn’t worry about such formalities and come anyway. Insurance be damned……I was on my way.

I sat in an ultra-sterile room with a thermometer in mouth. She got a doctor to give me a once over. Verdict? Fucking Walking Pneumonia.

“Great God!” I thought. I could die any minute and I still haven’t finished my trilogy of films or my memoirs. Complete fuckery. When you’re diagnosed with some bullshit like Pneumonia, the first thing you do is think of all the worthless shit in your life that doesn’t matter. First thing that sprang to mind was going to my job and smacking the shit out of my boss for handing me those worthless mule scraps he calls a “paycheck” every week. The next thing I thought of was how pompous the guy in the health food store acts when I go in there. You go in to buy vitamins and this muthafucker acts like he’s giving you the bread and body of Christ. He hardly speaks and rarely makes eye contact. When he does happen to make eye contact, his glances always end in a real feminine roll of the eyes. God, he’s a bitch. But I have the perfect remedy for that: his ass needs a good swift kicking. The irony of it is: I’m in the store to buy vitamins to help prevent illnesses such as this and this asshole tries to make a simple transaction as painful as possible.
God, he’s a bitch.

“Ziti, are you okay?” Cynthia looked at me with concern, like maybe my thoughts took me somewhere else. They did. I like Cynthia. She has a voice like velvet, but it’s not trampy. When most women try to project sensuality through their voice, they miss the allure they aim for. They come off sounding more like the old high school hooker who let everyone hit, because she has a broken sense of her sexuality. Their seduction is lost using a false assertion.

That’s not Cynthia.

Her words are intelligent and direct without being nerdy. She is inviting without being overly flirty. Maybe the real reason I think she’s cool, is that she has the same name as a girl in a Prince song? Cynthia Rose. I like her---but not in “that way”.

She hands me a plastic bag filled with all kinds of drugs. Antibiotics. Cough Killers. Fever reducers. Wheeze extractors. Anything that can be associated with the monster can be terminated with the assorted drugs in the bag. She is my new messiah.
I never noticed before, but Cynthia has one of the world’s most roundest asses I ever seen. No bullshit. Her ass protrudes with circles of Bronx boriqua mixed with a dash of Carolina Hood Honey. It’s amazing. No I mean it……..it’s fucking amazing. In those white nurses pants her ass looks like two soccer ba----

“GOTT DAMMIT ZITI! GET A HOLD OF YERSELF!” I say to myself.

Did I have the drugs yet? Or where the effects of the illness creeping and crawling up to my brain, causing me to think sick, twisted and convoluted thoughts? I’m a non-drinker. I don’t eat meat. Anything outside of Excedrin makes me feel “loopy”. I feel hot. She offers me one of those sawed off cans of ginger ale that all hospitals seem to stock pile in their staff refrigerators. I must really be hot, because outside of the beverage being cold, it tastes like a fine mixture of old Sprite, piss and penicillin. I drink it.

God bless you Cynthia.

*excerpt taken from the Zeemetry Manifesto

SuperSexy Candy Corn

Candy Corn. You can only have so much.

When I was a kid, I used to eat candy corn. Peculiar thing though---I could never finish a whole bag. It was the greatest thing, eating the first 20 or so corns. Somewhere towards the end it became abysmal. I never understood it. Open the bag and---BANG!--- sugary goodness. By the end of the bag...I wondered why I even bought that shit in the first place. No matter how many times I had that experience, I still went back for more. What the fuck was wrong with me? I just didn't learn. Fast forward many years later and I'm still learning. I just don't get it.

You womens are like Candy Corn. I just didn't learn.

LOL.

I'm a f*ckin' riot. I slay me.

p.s. this is as personal as you're going to get from me. I just post to write some shit---not to spill my f*ckin' guts.

This blog is not a diary.
And if it was, I wouldn't let you muthaf*ckers read it.

[note: concept 5/20/06.......made real 12/10/06]

Dear Marvin

Dear Marvin, we need you.......again.


MARVIN GAYE

Save The Children

I just want to ask a question
Who really cares? To save a world in despair
There'll come a time, when the world won't be singin'
Flowers won't grow, bells won't be ringin'
Who really cares?
Who's willing to try to save a world That's destined to die
When I look at the world it fills me with sorrow
Little children today are really gonna suffer tomorrow
Oh what a shame, such a bad way to live
All who is to blame, we can't stop livin'
Live, live for life But let live everybody
Live life for the children
Oh, for the childrenYou see, let's save the children
Let's save all the children
Save the babies, save the babies
If you wanna love, you got to save the babies
All of the children
But who really cares? Who's willing to try?
Yes, to save a world
Yea, save our sweet world Save a world that is destined to die
Oh, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
Oh, oh dig it everybody