#MNR: Water Under the Bridge

#MNR: Water Under the Bridge

Nigga, I’ve been singing the hook to “So Icy” since the Gucci/Jeezy Versuz, so I guess that’s a good place to park the Deuce and a Quarter. Step out the whip and fire your cheeba up. Enjoy the breeze. Now get your punk ass back in the car and ride with me. Leggo.

Gucci Mane vs. Jeezy. Radric Davis vs. Jay Jenkins. Guwop vs. Young Jizzle. Brick Squad 1017 vs. CTE (well, not so much anymore, but still). Zone 6 (shouts to my brother Mr. Ten) vs. The Bottom of the Map. Y’all know all the history. Y’all know all the hype. After 15 years of true beef and tension, 11.19.2020 saw the two Atlanta icons sit/stand across from one another in the legendary club King of Diamonds and go hit for hit (mostly) over the course of an hour and a half. It was momentous as well as prodigious, with about 1.5 million viewers in Apple Music and easily hundreds of thousands more viewers on diverse YouTube channel watch parties. I don’t currently nor have I ever subscribed to Apple Music (still have my free trial offer, I buy all my music), so I was in a YouTube watch party with about 70K in attendance. I don’t do recaps like my folk Vada Fly and Shotime SP do in the battle rap community (of which I’m also an ardent member), so y’all can take y’all lazy asses to YouTube if you want the fat and the skinny. I’ll just say that I had Jeezy with the clear win, which was obvious off jump because his catalogue of widely accepted hits and/or Billboard hits outnumber Gucci’s. But Gucci most definitely kept it entertaining throughout, beginning with his specially made diss track to set the MF battle off. That landed like a Hitman Holla haymaker on Summer Madness in Webster Hall (Don Demarco!!!). His other highlights were his reference to Pookie Loc, the nigga Gucci ushered to the Upper Room when he and a crew came for Gucci’s chain on a $10K bounty “allegedly” sponsored by Jeezy way back when. Throw in a couple of petty jabs over jewelry and clothes, and Gucci was the Gucci many of us have known and loved since I couldn’t find any 4X white tees because all you 2X MF bought every last one of those shits out the store on the MF regular. That’s when I used to see my folk at the old itty bitty newsstand type shop just off the corner of 2fifth and 8th Avenue by the train stop on the side of the street. That’s ’04, ’05 era Harlem. But anyway. Jeezy did his thing cuz his hits were heavier and hit heavier to most who watched. It was nostalgic if you were outside at that time, whether it was the club, the trap, at parties and cookouts, wherever. For those of us who got it out the mud in the trap, Jeezy talked to us because his talk was “trap technical.” He used terms only MF in the game who dealt with numbers talked. A lotta that shit flew over most of y’all heads because y’all weren’t in the trap. Shit like 62’s and 4-ways were just words in bars. But those of us who knew…knew. The best part of the battle was the end, easily. We all joked in the chats and on Twitter beforehand that it would be crazy if the two veterans performed “So Icy” together to end it. And damn it, they did. That shit was amazing, for obvious reasons. The culture got the win. But shit, so did Gucci and Jeezy. They both got the bag bag for their 90 minutes of work.

For all you stupid as fuck, COVID is a conspiracy ass MF, I just want to say this: if you truly believe that the coronavirus is a joke/hoax/etc., please just do us all a favor and, in the event that you contract COVID, refuse healthcare and a ventilator. Treat it like the common flu that you’re convinced it is. Go on ‘head to the Wal Mart and cop you some OJ and Theraflu. Go home and get you some rest. Thank you. You may just run into Pookie Loc on your way.

Big up to all our essential workers in healthcare, food services, education, and the liquor sto’. You are appreciated. Truly.

I’m not certain of the name of the channel, but there’s a brother on YouTube who chronicles the deaths of rappers. He gives their name, age, city of origin, and cause of death. His blog for rappers who have died in 2020 just released its SEVENTH update to the original. They’re all about 9 minutes or longer to add further perspective. Let that shit sink into your dome.

I said that to say this, and I’m gon try my hardest to tread lightly and maintain absolute respect for all the deceased. Now, not every rapper who died this year died because of a gun or the blade (remember, London and the UK have strict gun control laws, so their homicides are just as likely to be from a blade as a pistol). Some died in auto accidents. Some had illnesses. But the majority of the rappers who have died this year died because of gun play. And a majority of the rappers who died because of gun play are affiliated (and I’ll leave it at that). I never banged. I ran with MF who banged. Still do. But I am a verified street veteran. I earned all my stripes. I’m blue check verified. My OG always said, “you buy the ticket, you ride the ride.” Anyone involved in street life knows that death is a definite possibility if you play long and hard enough. That’s just how shit goes. Now, we definitely mourn death. God bless. But if you play with fire, there’s a good chance you will surely be burned. Street niggas understand. I just need you candy ass, never danced with the devil fans to STFU and let MF rest in peace. They knew what they were getting into. Every morning of my life when I lived in the 1400 building on 170th St. and Jesup Ave. in Highbridge, #BXNYC, I woke up and immediately sat up on the bed with my feet on the floor, stretched, yawned, looked out the window, and said, “Thank you Lord for another 24. I know I might die today.” I was knee deep in the game. I ran with the worst types. The block and my building were on fire. That gang shit was that gang shit. We’re talking ’06-’09 era. A lotta kids lost their lives. One of my regular custies, a 15-year-old Dominican kid who had just moved to the states got bodied on Ogden. One to the head. Kid never bothered anybody. He just liked to smoke good tree and chase a skirt. But niggas play dirty in Highbridge. The moral of the story is that when you’re in the game, anything is on the table. That’s why I stopped praising violence long ago. I get it. You’re outside and you’re active. You shoot at opps. But opps shoot back. If you can live with it, I can too. And if you die, you die. No tears shall be shed on this side. And for all you disillusioned ass fans who recite these lyrics and fantasize about the street conquests of the rappers who write them, guns kill. Please don’t forget that.

You ever been at work in middle of a Teams and/or Zoom meeting and just wanted to unmute your mic and tell the MF talking to kindly please shut theeeee fuck up? Oh ok. Me either. #ijs

I wanted to talk about some more shit. Truly. But I’m out of Backwoods and the sto’ closes sooner than later. And it takes a minute to thoroughly edit this copy. Any writer will tell you that editing your own material is tantamount to playing Russian Roulette (I’m lying, but they’ll tell you it sux ass). So that’s it, fuckers. Hope you enjoyed the blog. If not, you can kick rocks until you fall off the Palisades to a fiery death. Or survive like Will Ferrell in Austin Powers. I’m just playing. I’m just serious. I’m just playing. I’m just…

tymonday.com
crewunb.com