Wack MySpace Rapper of the Week #1

You Prolly Have a Myspace

And You Prolly Get inundated with far to many request from bands, singers, and the worst, rappers that you don't even know.

I know it sucks

I'm here to make fun of them and to make you not feel guilty about automatically deleting there shit.

And in the Case That the Artist is actually Good...

I will Call Em

"The Actually Good Myspace Rappper of the Week"

On to this weeks contestant..

MC Fuck Ya Life


A couple things..

I'm Not a hater

and

I appreciate new talent, and honestly wish there was more of it.

That being said, I hate wack artists..

And I really hate pushy wack artits...

Pushy Wack Artist that think thier good.......

Man they are the worst

I got a Friend Request from this dude...A week ago for his page....

http://www.myspace.com/fuckyalifedaoneinonly

Now I'm known to let a friend request lounge around in my mail box for a while

Unless

Your a really sexy female

or

You seem to be very politically inclined...

Wrong? well fuck it sue me...

Anyway, I leave em around because when I do want to go and actually check out their page, I want to pay it the proper attention it deserves...you know....read what they about ...and listen to there music...and give it a fair chance..

Well fast forward back today and I get a message from homie
titled

"Whats gd"

basicly stating...

"add my page nigga"

huh?

I'm thinking do I know this dude?

Is this my Nigga Greg and did he just move to New Jerz....?

Without getting heated...I decided now would be as good as anytime to go listen his music..and maybe just maybe I would add his page if he was good..

Besides arguing back in forth on myspace seems hella gay if I may say so

Never done it...and dont ever plan to

I'm to Danny Glover for that shit...

So I go to listen..

Okay First mistake...

This dude has like 3,000 playlist and they all auto start by themselves..

not a good look...or sound.... and very annoying...

After fucking with the virtual mixing board for like min or so.. I decide to listen to the some of the songs...

"My Time"

Jesus Christ....somebody teach this guy about sound quality ..and mixing a song...
To Be honest..the song wasn't that bad..the beat sounded like some late 90's early millennium West Coast shit..very very average

"Sweeter than candy canes."../ "Shitting on the track leaving do do stains"

are the star lyrics provided..smh


"Hey Girl"

I Listened to a Minute of This Shit and I don't Know How

You Remember them cheap ass extremely small keyboards you used to get for Christmas...with that one programed song? That's what this shit sounds like...

Production Quality Horrible.....Beat Embarrassing.... I cant believe somebody was proud of that beat... I woulda drowned that beat like Susan Smith

"Fuck Your Life Beats"

lol....Listen to the last beat on the last playlist...and I dare you not to laugh

Dare You

I would describe some more of his tracks but...trust me there wack also.

Dude has very average lyrics...painfully average....like don't even try to make a metaphor if that's the best you got lyrics. Which happen to sadly be the icing on a wack ass beat cake..


Verdict... Wack Rapper / Not Added to My Friends List

I'm going to go look in the mirror and apoligize to my ears now..


Once again

http://www.myspace.com/fuckyalifedaoneinonly

If you want to find the truth out for yourself


And Rappers Remember

Don't get mad..


I just gave you publicity...

Championship Thoughts

Hope things have been chill with yall.

Me?

Well a sinister mixture of Gods Wrath and the Windows Boot process, has left me relatively computerless for much of the past week, a circumstance that basically mushed potential blogging plans in the face. Thanks to the computer genius of my boy Kevin tho, I’m back online (oh my beloved rapidshare) and ready to share a few random thoughts.


I watched the series ending game 6 of the N.B.A Finals the other night. When I say watched…I mean watched, the whole way thru. Every wack commercial, every sappy human interest story involving Man on trophy love, the whole thing, no DVR or nuttin.

No I don’t want a cookie.

I would like for you to know as a normally beyond avid NBA for most of my life, surprisingly Tuesdays season ender was the first game I watched in its complete form.

No I don’t despise Masta Stern that much to shun the formally fantastic game, if anything it’s the horrible presentation aesthetic while being broadcast on ESPN/ABC and my informal boycott anything Stuart Scott related. Rationale was set aside for game 6 however, due to the circumstances involved. Would Kobe become Jordanesque and complete the first necessary step to completing the previously imposable, or would Boston, a city which the nicest compliment I can bestow upon it is that its not Philadelphia, garner another championship?

Well we know what happened.

Then the beauty of sports ensued.


While Paul Pierce’s blatant plagiarism of football culture



without the expressed written consent of the N.F.L was nice, the true poignant entertainment moment broadcast for Americas consumption came via Kevin Garnett.

You could see, better yet hear it coming towards the end of the mammoth blowout which undoubtedly spurred sporadic drunken anger related violence in the Los Angeles area. ABC, living in a post Janet Jackson’s succulent nipple world, scrambled in flawed in attempts, to censor the raucous cursing stemming the jubilant Celtics bench. The rhetoric of joy form K.G and his cohorts would not be denied however, as in a interview that properly displayed how to hit on a female reporter (Joe Namath take notes) and how to be perfectly human.



Gone was the veil for fakeness we are indoctrinated to believe is professionalism, just heartfelt emotion naturally revealed after the accomplishment of a life long goal. Later in the evening Scoop Jackson a writer whom I can name 16,000 scribes whom I’m personally affiliated or just know of, that surpass him talent, struck up a carefree conversation with Mr. Garnett that seem to leave all but a few of the reporters in room perplexed.

Jackson asked Garnett how it felt to let it all out, to be free and just express how he truly felt. Kevin replied that is was like finally standing up to a bully and putting him on his ass. I might be extrapolating to much, but for a moment, one could swear he wasn’t just speaking about being a champion, but the freedom that being a world champion gave him to be himself, false contortions the modern athlete are forced into be damned….

After witnessing the trophy presentation, I might have been the only person in America who turned to NBA TV to watch the postgame press conferences. You know NBA TV the basketball equivalent of the NFL network with 10% of the quality and production cost lower then Channel 1, yup that one. Why?

Let me tell you sports fan, if you take anything from me know this: never underestimate the worth of a great press conference. Simply put, would like enjoy a meal fresh out of the oven emanating a blissful aroma or would you like your dish old, look warm, and served by germ infested hands?

That’s what I thought.

So I headed to channel 662 aka… the last channel before HD so it will forever get igged, to see what the newly crowned champions and well you know…the agony of defeat.


While admittedly there where some mundane moments, I still happened to witness what might have been one of the best moments of live television to occur this year directed by eerily Remy looking Brian Scalabrine.

I’ve said it before and still stand by it:

Fuck a sideline reporter.

If you want the real why don’t you just ask the guy ask the guy on the bench who never plays? It works in politics, why not sports?



What made the Scalabrine One man show even more hilarious was the bluntly spoken proclamation of a previously thought to be deceased by yours truly, Peter Vecsey, who stated to his visibly in denial partner that they “now know their careers are really over” because they got preempted by the red headed center from the LBC., right before he sent it over to David Aldridge.

David Aldridge

From ESPN to TNT to NBA TV?

Dammmmn Homie………

Anyway congrats to the Champions tho

K.G , Jesus Shuttlesworth and The Super Star who I wont make a Hairline or Almighty RSO joke about, along with there band of merry men. (pause)

Now all I haft to do is make it till training camp…….


Dame


Aim: ILLAIM365