Ayo whattup yall…the Hands of Zeus aka Thor Molecules aka Phantom Raviolis aka Cocaine Biceps… otherwise known as The Blog King n the Inventor of the Slap…is now officially back in the building namsayin. As summa yalls already kno…the god aint really no big fan of the nigga whose album Im bout to discuss nahmean. But Imma give this shit a unbiased real ass nigga persective yo. Imma ga’head n introduce the nigga now namsayin. Ayo…kinda like ya boy Big Ghost…son goes by many names b…Drizzy or Aubrey or jus Aubs…n the Artist Formerly Known as Wheelchair Jimmy nahmean. But yalls might know him as The Kitten Whisperer aka The Harvester of Pauses aka The Taio Cruz of Hip Hop aka Young Garnier Fructis the pre-cum baby aka Jennifer Aniston’s favorite emcee….n the muthafucka most likely to have a gateway to Narnia in his closet aka The Michael Buble of Rap or that nigga witta beatin vagina for a heart that you be hearin on the radio sandwiched between Katy Perry n Lady Gaga joints all day aka Justin Biebers beard n the only nigga on earth capable of turnin sandpaper into moist towelettes wit the touch of his hands…the vagina nectar-garglin nigga who makes lambs look dangerous hisself…..otherwise known as the Human Electric Slide… OctobVariesOwn….Drake. Now I promise yall…I aint got no expectations or plans to hate on this nigga unless the shit jus so happens to be wack nahmean…Word is bond. Truth is…I aint really got nothin against son like that yo. Aight lets go…
Ayo fuck this nigga b. First off…this nigga gotta stop wit this lonely mobster image he tryin to portray these days yo. This nigga said this shit was bout him feelin like he a king tho. Son said “I used to stare at this world through a glass window and, like, two to three years later, I become a king in that world. That’s who’s sitting on that cover…” They give this nigga a muthafuckin goblet n a table for one witta candle n a bronze owl n now he runnin rap? Nigga ya respect from ya peers is as deep as the success you got in the mainstream. Aint nobody in rap lookin up to you like that cos you dope. Your success is whats dope to these niggas son. King tho? Fuck outta here b.
1. Over My Dead Body - A forreal….this sounds like the soundtrack to some Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants type shit son. I forget who the broad he got singin the hook on this muthafucka is…but i think its Renee Zellweger or some shit. I feel like Im inside a Barnes & Noble or a Starbucks b… This joint is more light in the ass than the fushigi gravity balls you see in those infomercials at 3 in the mornin son. But yo…how the first words that this nigga got the nerve to utter on this muthafuckin album gon be “I think I killed errybody in the game last year man”? Pardon me son? Word? You mean the same year that Kanye dropped another classic album in…while yo overrated ass uhhh….DID NOT? That year b? You mean the year when niggas predicted you was gon do a milli the first week out n you did 450k instead…n then a few days later Eminem dropped n he did like 750k in HIS first week n kept YOU from gettin back to the top of the charts? The same year that Em n Jigga won all the Grammys YOU was spose to take home? THAT year son? Oh.
2. Shot For Me - I dont even know what to say b. Like forreal…after hearin this shit…I wouldnt be surprised if this nigga could pollinate a flower wit his fuckin breath son. Im pretty sure that son gets up in the morning n plays his harp for his cats n then slides down the muthafuckin banister in his satin man nightie n has a full glass of breast milk before he goes to the studio n hammers out some pooned out shit like this b. Sons talkin to a broad thru the whole song on some bitter shit n at one point the nigga even says “The way you walk…thats me. The way you talk…thats me. The way you got your hair up…did you forget? Thats me” Son… Thats you? Aight then… But the boy aint done yet yo…at the end of the joint he proposes a toast. This is how that shit go…
“May your neigbors respect you
Trouble neglect you, angels protect you
And Heaven accept you”.
Ayo I gotta toast for you too Drake…”May you shut the fuck up”
3. Headlines - Lets be real…lotta yall muthafuckas dont wanna accept that this shit was a crime against heterosexuality…but thats cool. Yall feel like the human croissant did his thing on this shit. I respect that. But anyways…the god already had a few thoughts on this shit a few months ago namsayin. Yall can peep that shit rite HERE
4. Crew Love (ft The Weeknd) - Ayo I been startin to accept that maybe ALL these joints is gon be bitchmade son. Truth is I fucks wit The Weeknd tho b. The music on this shit aint that bad…but it aint really no kinda beat namsayin. But then here come Young Angel talmbout havin “soldiers” n niggas “who came up off the strip” for him n “come up off the hip” for him if he need em to. I mean……jus stop that shit son. Niggas kno ya pedigree b. Like you wasnt the little nigga ridin ponies n doin cartwhels in the backyard livin that upperclass suburban life before you became a Canadian teen soap opera star n shit b. Now you the nigga tuckin napkins in ya shirt while you eat cos you “mobbin like that” n orderin hits on niggas who disrespect you…jus stop it Aubrey. Son said “I think I like who Im becoming…” Im sayin the boy Aubs is startin to feel hisself a little too much b. Anyways son…when I thinks of Crew Love I think bout Beanie Sigel movin J Cole’s mentor out his way so he could body the fuck outta a glorious ass beat while Jiggaman in his prime delivers a hook that sticks to ya ribs namsayin. Thats what Im gon always think of son…
5. Take Care - Is this shit house? This shits like some kinda African disco shit b. Nothin wrong witta nigga gettin his international on but sons spittin those cream-filled bars again. Ayo son actually dropped the words “tears all over the pillowcase” namsayin…like I aint even had to make that shit up b. But dont worry ma…Aubrey got his cape on again …tellin the broads of the world exactly what yall spose to be thinkin n feelin n how “Somebody shouldve told you something…to save you”. The moisture levels on this shit got clouds formin over my speakers b. […more…]