in Kanye West’s mouth. No, not just a rag, a rag soaked in ether. Yeah, yeah, that way he’ll keel over in grogginess and then it’ll be easier to flip a match at him from a safe distance and watch him go up in flames. Really, I hate to give celebrity jack asses like this guy any more press, and believe me, I don’t give a rat’s ass about taylor swift (actually I don’t even know who the hell she is) but I’m sick of having made a life choice in not watching tv or listening to pop radio and still having to end up hearing about stuff like this. This is one of the reasons why I don’t listen to rap anymore. And I know, a lot of people would probably scoff at my even calling chart-ranking detritus like Mr. west rap to begin with, but a lot more folks would (and do) defend him as a ‘intelligent alternative’ to the violent stuff out there. Well to that I say I’d rather listen to a bunch of gangbangers threaten each other with AK-47’s up and down the block than this tiger beat buulll-sheeit. What we need is the return of the Ghetto Boys. Classic tracks like ‘Mind of a Lunatic’ or ‘Mind’s Playing Tricks On Me’ sound like goddamn Smokey Robinson compared to talentless hacks like this.
If I was Frank Castle I’d hunt douche bag celebrities when not hunting criminals, cause in this Bastard’s book playing flash for soul is a serious crime.