To all the haters, purchase doubters, pharmacist and ig’nint asses:
ZING. Y’all know what time it is. I got that official shit, holler at your boy.
Materials: Spraypaint, stencils, tape, and a shirt. And about 45 seconds.
Okay, discount so FEMA is basically a giant fuckup. I was on the internets today and I saw this shit. Don’t worry, more about there is some actual hip-hop in here today. Sort of.
For those of you too lazy to check the site, here’s the basic rundown:
As New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin pleaded on national television for firefighters – his own are exhausted after working around the clock for a week – a battalion of highly trained men and women sat idle Sunday in a muggy Sheraton Hotel conference room in Atlanta. Many of the firefighters, assembled from Utah and throughout the United States by the Federal Emergency Management Agency, thought they were going to be deployed as emergency workers.
Instead, they have learned they are going to be community-relations officers for FEMA, shuffled throughout the Gulf Coast region to disseminate fliers and a phone number: 1-800-621-FEMA.
So, yeah. We’ve got a bunch of firefighters that are ready for action, but instead we’re holding a fucking tea party and training them on how to hand out fliers. Shit is so fucked nowadays that it’s surreal.
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Man, check what the fuck it do? You already know what time it is, or maybe you don’t.
So yeah, it’s episode #12 of the most infamous hip-hop mixtape podcast on ye olde intarwebbe. And yes, normally shows come through on Fridays, but you all should have learned to expect the motherfucking unexpected round here by now. Basically things are getting kinda busy for your boy at the moment, so in case things get too hectic for me to put shit out on schedule, I’m just gonna put shit up early.
So, let’s see. We’ve had a dude from N.Y., a dude from Chicago, someone from D.C...there would be something wrong if I didn’t go right next door and hit up Compton for some sound.
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