In eighth grade, a friend in my math class once inquired, "why do you only listen to that underground rap!?" Bemused and delighted for a chance to demonstrate my superior tastes, I hurriedly scooped the Soundbombing II cassette from a tattered cargo pocket and slammed it on our shared table. Pointing to Eminem, I stated with confidence, "because these guys are the best rappers."
My, my, my (copyright Johnny Gill) how time changes. Nowadays most of the underground/mixtape shit is as whack as the commercial shit, only with poorer mastering, worse skits, and even more myopic topics.
But this right chea is one of my favorites, a rare jewel from them days when Em really was one of the freshest and there was a reason to be a lyrical elitist.
The combination of Marshall with Illadelph arsonists Jazzy Jeff and Paul Yamz is strange indeed but wonderful. While Jeff and Em certainly need little introduction as to their talents, it is truly middle-aged Pauly Yams who steals the show. In Philly there are always those thural rappers who everyone knows will neeeeeeeeeever blow up or even flicker but every once in a while can come through with the type of diabolical heat only battle-tested skill, literal hunger, and the swagger of daily PA struggle concoct.
Behold the willful ignorance:
You rappers never learn, that's why I don't fuck wit y'all
Runnin round tellin niggas they could fuck wit Pauls
I bring it to ya highschool nigga, and smoke the prom
Put ya brother in a headlock and choke ya mom
Send you home like a playoff loss in game seven
Walking round gritting on niggas, madder than James Evans
My left hand sharp and move teeth
Styles ultra- slap my bitch like Kool Keith
Beat a nigga like he stole from me, and rule streets
I don't wanna hafta fuck you up, so cool cease
Paul Yamz be the chosen thug
What I spit be cold juice like a frozen hug
Run the streets while you stuck at home
My temper like Bushwick Bill nigga, leave me the fuck alone
I been dealing since niggas was windmilling
These cats just started to rhyme, I been spilling
Ya moms just loaned you the Ac, I been wheeling
Ya bul just stole you a got, I been steeling
I wet rappers cause it's me or them
I guess I just ain't giving a fuck, I'm like Eminem
Burglarize till they bust me a slug
Come in ya window like Bruthaman and bust in ya grub
What the fuck, I teach dumb bitches what to suck
And my young buls, when to stand up and when to duck
Offensive!? certainly. Tasteless? prolly. Indelibly thural? Fo sho.
If that ain't enough, Jeff's scratches are soemthin serious. Like DMC '88 serious.
And the shit is edited. Why even bother with these seismograms of ignorance? Because in the FCC handbook, possession (of so-called cusses) is 10/10 of the lyrical law.
Of course, all audio is for private preview purposes only so... stop drawin.
Holla at Paul Yamz
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