Ayo whattup…you now back in the presence of the one n only grand imperial Hands Of Zeus aka the illustrious Thor Molecules aka the mighty Cocaine Biceps…otherwise known as Shampoo Bracelets the panty melter…also known as the one n only Galaxy Knuckles or Broccoli Bundles the almighty… Yall might also kno me as ya boy Big Ghost aka Volcano Hands the inventor of slaps… Otherwise you might kno me as Phantom Raviolis or the grand immaculate Spartacus Deluxe. I kno what yall prolly thinkin…THIS NIGGA DONE CAME UP…HE HOLLYWOOD…LOOK AT ALL THIS EXTRAVAGANTISM B…OH MY GAWD. I feel you my nigga….I sense theres animosity n whatever whatever. I done started from the bottom n now Im here…straight up n down. I aint ashamed bout none of that. Im gettin this cake n Imma still be givin yall the raw uncut while I enjoy this luxurious splendor. Jus lemme flourish tho. Anyways yo….we aint here for all that so the gawd gon cut the introductions short so we can get this shit on n poppin.
Aight so once again we here to discuss the latest release from a dude who prolly gon need no introductions but Imma introduce him anyways namsayin…Yall might knohim as that owl-obsessed Aaliyah stan from the great white north wit the exotic budgie tat n the wild flamboyant hand gestures that makes bout 63 questionable facial expressions per minute while hoppin around on stage in a tank top who installed a a showerhead that sprays lavender scents into the air n a stripper pole in his crib n calls hisself Champagne Papi– but yo…hol up son… I mean only in this fake ass industry can you go from bein a silver spoon swallowin jewgro witta blend of melted butter n warm Ovaltine flowin thru ya bloodstream playin a paraplegic lame on a corny teen soap opera to becomin besties witta fake Blood who looks like a cross between a gremlin, a cabbage patch doll n a chupacabra n call yaself Champagne Papi n still be crazy respected by ya peers b… We talmbout a dude who done made songs so moist they could tenderize a steak if you left it in front of the speaker… Songs that could hydrate ya skin n cleanse ya pores n shit… Songs that could make swans appear at ya doorstep… Shit that could pasteurize milk. But yall guessed it…its the AJ Soprano of rap hisself…the 2013 Chandler Bing…the Human Rollerblade…Drizzy Drake.
I aint gon lie b…I aint what yall might call a “Drake fan” n shit. Matter fact most yall muthafuckas be like WORD YOU A DRAKE HATER B…which aint true. I actually appreciate a lot of what this beige muthafucka done accomplished in his career. I mean aint like I was a fan of ALL that shit but there was definitely joints that I was feelin since back in the Room For Improvement/Comeback Season era namsayin. Son wasnt whylin on some all the way corny shit back then tho. On the other hand he wasnt exactly what you might refer to as a nigga you take too seriously neither. He kept it straight lightskinned n on some boy next door type shit n whatever. He was a “safe” nigga. He seemed like the type of dude who actually knew what the fuck a backgammon board was for n shit. Son seemed like he done got busy witta pottery wheel at least a few times in his life before…shit like that. He seemed like a dude who would kno the difference between a dinner fork n a salad fork n might gon chuckle if he seen you usin the wrong one or some shit…the kinda dude who had hedgehogs or some other kinda exotic rodents growin up instead of a dog nahmean. He seemed like the type of nigga who favorite hood flicks was Set It Off n Jason’s Lyric. Like he might coulda been the type to somersault down a hill laughin or make a short film of a plastic bag blowin round in the wind n have his friends come thru the crib to watch it n make smores n shit like that…the type of dude Alfonso Ribeiro would play on a tv show n shit.
After So Far Gone dropped tho…it was over b. The success of that shit jus opened the floodgates to a world dominated by dudes who never had male role models growin up n females that insisted on puttin the fakest n corniest niggas on the planet (I mean you Tyga) on a pedestal n worshippin em like Greek gods b. After that mixtape blew that was it…like the nigga Drizzy had found his purpose in life n was on some o.d. sucker shit for the next 4 years wit back to back stripper rescue mission anthems n audio manuals for dudes on how to excavate the least masculine traits outta they own personality. But it was a sign of the times g. DMX had fell way the fuck off…M.O.P. hadnt dropped any official albums in like NINE years n shit… Eminem was bout to use his Relapse album to prove that takin 5 years off in the rap game is like tryin to reheat a burger from last week… Dr Dre was too busy pretendin he was in the lab makin an album to actually make one…so on n so forth. The landscape in hip hop was changin namsayin… The year before that Kanye had got his heart broke into a million little tiny pieces by his fiancee n forgot how to make a rap album….so we got 808s & Heartbreaks instead. Which brings me to my point yo….If I had to pinpoint the actual origin of when exactly Drake had got bit by the radioactive butterfly that changed his life forever I would say it occurred the moment he heard track 8 from that album come pourin thru his Skullcandy earbuds.
No one song in the history of rap music ever influenced a niggas whole career the way that Kanye’s Street Lights affected ya boy Drizzy. Son must been mesmerized by that shit cuz his entire career path from that point on basically revolved around tryin to remake that Ye joint in as many different ways possible yo. But he took it a step further than that nigga Yeezy by bein on some wild insecure shit instead of jussa straight obnoxious douchebag genius witta broken heart. Niggas always been like NAW THAT NIGGA DRAKE JUS IN TOUCH WIT HIS FEMININE SIDE…HE HONEST…HE MAKE HONEST MUSIC N HE IN TOUCH WIT HIS FEMININE SIDE N HIS FEELINGS N ADMITS HE GOT FLAWS…HE HOLDIN IT DOWN FOR HONEST NIGGAS THATS IN TOUCH WIT THEY FEMININE SIDES N GOT FLAWS SON. But yo…from the beginning of rap its always been muthafuckas dreamin of havin shit that niggas round they way aint had. Even back in the “throw ya hands in the air n wave em like ya jus dont care” days. Best believe it was more than a handful of niggas in the BX wit names like Kool Luv Ski that was rockin Jordache jeans n Pro Keds talmbout YES YES YALL IM GETTIN CRAZY DUCATS HUH HUH HUH HUH… or I GOT ALL THE FRESH GIRLIES ON THE TIP… or 1, 2, 3 IN THE PLACE TO BE ITS THE SURE SHOT PARTY ROCKIN ONE WHO GOT THE FELLAS JOCKIN… That shit evolved over time into language that was a lot less corny n eventually niggas was jus compoundin all that shit into phrases like FUCK BITCHES, GET MONEY. But the boy Drake put those thoughts thru his own filter n came wit some suckerfied shit. He put the sucka nigga spin on that. He translated that shit into Fuckboynese for you. He jus spoke to the inner sucka ass muthafucka in you n told it to come on out n join the movement. He seduced the inner sucka in you n told it LOOK…DONT EEM WORRY MMKAY? IMMA MAKE ALL THIS SUCKA ASS FUCKBOY SHIT HOT N YOU GON BE FREE TO ROAM THE EARTH N ALL THAT MY NIGGA AAAAWWWWWWW…. Word is bond this nigga had songs where he was sayin shit like I JUS WANNA BE SUCCESSFUL…I WANNA BE FAMOUS…I WANNA BE ABLE TO TELL NIGGAS WHO AINT BELIEVE IN ME HAHA I TOLD YOU SO…. I WANNA BE ABLE TO SWOOP IN ON ANOTHER NIGGA GIRL IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT WHILE HE NOT AROUND N THROW DIRT ON HIS NAME JUS SO SHE WONT BE HAPPY WIT HIM NO MORE EVEN THO I BROKE UP WIT HER A YEAR AGO N SHE DONE MOVED ON WIT HER LIFE BUT I CANT STAND TO SEE HER HAPPY UNLESS SHE WIT ME EVEN THO I DONT WANNA BE WIT HER…n put a fucknigga spin on the whole thing. The whole Take Care album was like a Code of Hammurabi for dudes wit white iphones n females who hate rap. Take Care was a manifesto for the entire bitchmade nigga species. But I aint wanna get into all that. Yall already kno the whole repertoire…the boy Aubrey made it cool for grown men to openly admit all the lame thoughts that go runnin thru they head when they drunk n at they emotionally vulnerable-est n made it so niggas jus started to embrace those impulses while they sober n in a good mood too. To make shit worse you started seein more n more precum babies sproutin up all over the place like dandelions n sharin they own fairytales n fables of not havin no dignity or regard for mens fashion n shit like that.
If you a dude who was raised on soy milk you prolly thinkin why we need shit like dignity n separate clothing sections for males n females in the first place right? Yall thinkin whats so bad bout dudes not filterin out all that hoe shit before they start sharin they honest true blue feelings on whatever whatever… Its cuz deep down we kno its some unseen forces outchea tryin to get us to stop procreatin b. And what better way to do that shit than to turn yall niggas balls into some ovaries yo? So THE MAN been cool wit pushin all this fuckboy music on yall…even tho yall be thinkin NAW I BE SEXIN TO DRIZZY MUSIC ALL THE TIME SON…but yo you ever EVER ever ever ever impregnate a female to some Drake joints bruh? Naw that shit impossible b. Unless its some shit like Uptown or November 18th maybe… But thats another topic yo. Ion wanna get way off track n shit. So we gon discuss the Nothing Was The Same lp now. Imma start out by sayin I was disappointed to see that 5 AM In Toronto aint on the album…not even as a bonus joint or nothin…which is a damn shame cuz I really felt like that was the best verse Drizzy spit since before So Far Gone…n that beat was cold as hell too. That joint was like my favorite shit for a minute in all honesty b. I remember thinkin damn…this nigga Aubrey might gon have some shit on deck for us when his album drop forreal forreal. Like how the fuck this the same dude who was rappin bout goin thru a chick’s purse while she in the bathroom? But thats neither here nor there since it aint make the album. Lets get into this shit tho.