Tag Archives: Lil B

Some rap reviews of varying merit from the past few months.

I review exclusively rap in Totally Dublin now because I am willing to do so and people into reviewing indie rock are easier to find I guess. I did a long one for One More Robot too. I am in the process of forming an argument in my mind that rap music is not only a separate genre but a mode unto itself – an action movie is a movie, but even if a play does a lot of the same things as a movie, it’s a different thing. Off the back of that, I’d plead that starting to review rap is like learning to do reviews all over again. The mode is different, so the criticism is different, and I’ve become gradually aware of how annoying an uninformed rock critic talking about rap is, no matter how good their intentions. I haven’t formed that modal argument fully yet, though, so all I can do is post some reviews.

Jay-Z and Kanye West – Watch The Throne
(Totally Dublin, September 2011)

Some albums are statement albums by virtue of the circumstances surrounding their release – a rapper getting out of jail, say. Others are statement albums because they arrive from nowhere with a fully-formed, confident, unique sound. But sometimes it’s just a de facto statement album, because you’re probably the two most famous rappers in the world and everyone’s already paying attention. And you’ve called yourselves, by implication, The Throne. It’s not surprising that Jay-Z and Kanye came up with “throne” either. There can only be one king, but a throne can theoretically fit two, and it gives Kanye a great opportunity to patronise an up and coming upholsterer in Milan or somewhere. The music is lavish, as you’d expect. But this album’s only important because it’s already important.

Kanye is best where Jay-Z is weakest which, rather than making for a ‘best of both worlds’ situation (shouts out R. Kelly), means that neither seems like they’re making the album they should be making. Kanye’s not a technical rapper. He’s most interesting when he’s making ridiculous statements – “this is something like the holocaust” as the opening line of bro-step banger Who Gon Stop Me, for example. Jay-Z at this point in his career needs exactly the right context to avoid sounding old and staid. The scenarios he finds himself in alongside Kanye, who at one point advises his future son to avoid telethons, undermine even his fresher flows. On Niggas In Paris, for example, Jay-Z lays down a textbook verse about being so successful he no longer cares. Kanye then rolls in and manages to mention Prince William, Mary-Kate, Ashley, Gucci, Louis Vuitton and a Margiela jacket, whilst also noting that he is in Paris.

It’s hard to tell whether this was Kanye The Scrappy Kid’s idea, wanting to trade bars with his Hall of Famer mentor, or Gwyneth Paltrow’s Friend Jay-Z’s, wanting to hang on to relevance. It’s got flashes of genius, mostly from Kanye, but it is some heavily unnecessary stuff and it doesn’t (or shouldn’t) really mean anything for rap in general. Which is sad, considering what it could have been.


Gucci Mane & Waka Flocka Flame – Ferrari Boyz
(One More Robot, September 2011)

Gucci Mane, out of prison for the time being at least, is the postmodern man’s current king of the South, with a history of squeezing baseless absurdities into raps about cocaine. Waka Flocka Flame, his protégé and former literal weed-carrier, is the king of being insufferable in a club, encouraging all and sundry to throw gang signs, steal girlfriends and start fights. But they don’t always fit together, which is what they try to do fifteen times on Ferrari Boyz.

Maybe the best way to squeeze the most juice out of this collaboration would have been to make it a Gucci Mane album with a Waka Flocka Flame hooks, ad libs and three words per line final verses. But Flockaveli blew up, so like Jay-Z and Kanye on Watch The Throne, there’s some kind of implied parity here. With the two on equal standing, the strategy they’ve chosen is to flex over mean-mugging Southside beats. It’s not the fuck the club up party rap of Flockaveli, but it seems like Flocka territory, or at least the implication that it might be seems to have an effect on Gucci, who reins in his wholesale, non-sequitur-filled, insane flow and tries to play along. Of course there’s weirdness. It’s Gucci Mane and Waka Flocka Flame. But it tends to come in the form of double take-inducing lines about driving a Ferrari like it was a Chevy, wedged amongst auto-pilot bars about being stoned or rich and even, at various points, Wiz Khalifa shout outs.

There’s wandering 808s and roof-scraping synth arpeggios with the guys who made that the legitimate default beat choice in modern rap, so there are highlights. Suicide Homicide, with Wooh Da Kid, has an eminently chantable hook and plenty of horrific lyrical bases touched (such as “putting seven in your chest” like “M. Vick” and “cooking up babies, call that shit abortion). The beat on 15th And The 1st is more mysterious than threatening, and though he’s still on B game even compared to his last mixtape Writings On The Wall 2, it seems like the most comfortable territory for Gucci on the record. It’s also got Flocka executing his traditional role to perfection: half-singing a hook about having a stomach so full that’s he’s burping hundreds. YG Hootie, solidifying his position as third best Bricksquad member, delivers a decent verse that acknowledges his anger about not actually selling records in his own right. Later, on Pacman, Flocka manages to deliver a verse that confusingly doesn’t make any mention of the fact that his name is the sound Pacman makes while eating pills and being chased by ghosts. Which is a missed opportunity, given that that’s a pretty functional blurb for his whole persona.

In the final instance, the value of Ferrari Boyz will be as a museum piece exemplifying an entire genre. It’s further proof of the fact that one and one doesn’t necessarily always give two with rap records, especially when you’re dealing with people who’ve made their name off tracks where they’ve had space to let their idiosyncracies out with no self-consciousness. That it’s not even better than the last solo mixtape by each rapper is telling in that respect. But you could use it to teach post-Lex Luger ham rap to your hip hop class, for the same reason you get someone with a neutral accent to teach a language to kids. To call it ‘by numbers’ is uncharitable but not far off.


Das Racist – Relax
(Totally Dublin, October 2011)

Self-awareness is something only comedy rap troupe ever to school you on Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak possess in almost dangerous quantities, so there’ll always be something slightly unwholesome about their off-hand punchlines about expensive cheese and being Eric Clapton. But their free association postmodern pop culture flow is confident now and the chaff has been discarded. They’re fun, different to anyone else, and there are serious ideas behind those raised eyebrows.


Lil B – Im Gay (Im Happy)
(Totally Dublin, 2011)

All praise be to Based God, but as laudable as his positive message is, he’s only really compelling when you can’t tell whether he’s serious or not. Im Gay (with no apostrophe) fulfilled its meme generation purpose by making everyone shocked that a rapper would call a record that, but the raps, though improving technically, are still not great. Clams Casino comes through with Unchain Me, but Lil B doesn’t seem to know what he’s saying.


Roach Gigz – Bitch I’m A Player
(Totally Dublin, August 2011)

It’s not that surprising that putting a big personality over dumb slaps results in more great music from the Bay Area. Over twelve C-Loz tracks (one of which is literally built around a sample of the words “big fat beat”), Roach Gigz is skilled and funny, rapping about holes in his brain from drug abuse and women trying to get to him through his publicist. Another for the ‘next to blow up’ column, but more of this is enough if he doesn’t.



Swagger on a hundred thousand… hundred trillion.

It’s Lil B’s birthday. I tweeted this, but I might as well write a little about it too. These are my five favourite Lil B songs.

5. Lil B – Pretty Bitch

I came to Based God either early or late depending on what perspective you’re coming from. Probably a little late. The first mixtape I got was Red Flame, so, in attempting to keep up with everything he put out from then on, I didn’t make it back to the 2009 stuff for a long time. If I’d heard Pretty Bitch first, like a lot of people must have, I might not have taken the I’m Paris Hilton/I’m Miley Cyrus/I’m Bill Clinton stuff to mean he’s fully a novelty rapper right off the bat.

This is basically just a hit, and it features one of the things I keep on my rap bingo card – a reference to Nicki Minaj as if she is the very platonic ideal of a woman. “Nicki Minaj, I’m the finest bitch out,” he confusingly claims. It’s also pretty vulgar, a monument to the pre-positive Based God, and its video is probably the textbook example of a Lil B handicam video that’s just him miming poorly on a couch/playing chess.

4. Lil B – Im Paris Hilton

Over what sounds like a 96kbps version of Young L’s first perfect piece of martian knock, this is conversely the kind of thing that would convince you that he’s a novelty rapper. But the best novelty rapper of all time. Fully a song about being Paris Hilton. Not a metaphor. “I married Paris Hilton. We’re at the Hilton. Limousine driver, nickname Hilton. I like Paris Hilton. Where’s Paris Hilton? She can sue me cos I’m worth a million. I’m Paris Hilton.” Cmon.

3. Lil B – Unchain Me

When Noz was dismissing Flying Lotus, he said “I could just play a John Coltrane record and a J Dilla record” at the same time or something. I listen to more Flying Lotus than Coltrane or Dilla (blow me) but I don’t like Clams Casino much because I keep thinking “I could just put a drum machine beat under Colm Meaney’s Celtic mysticism CDs”. Nonetheless, Clams’ track Unchain Me is the best thing on Im Gay, which retrospectively no-one should have expected to have any kind of coherent message or point beyond being sound. It’s the best Lil B track since he went full-on positive. “It’s connected to the woods, the wilderness is my home/The world says I’m bad because of my colour. But they don’t get the fact I said that I love you.”

2. Lil B – Exhibit Based

If you need a go-to to prove to your Real Hip Hop friends that Lil B is basically choosing not to rap “well”, show them Exhibit Based. Matching or maybe beating Jay Electronica on his best song, over a (probably Youtube ripped) Just Blaze track, this is the one I still consider canon for Lil B as a character. That’s a ridiculous and arbitrary decision, because there’s no canon, but it sounds earnest and it’s just a good and persistently interesting five minute rap with no chorus.

He talks about cocaine dreams, outgrowing the people around him in terms of maturity and stealing DVD players for his mother who doubted him, and interestingly, he also claims never to have robbed a family, the innocent or someone he’d hang around with. Omar-esque teenage Lil B.

The ad-libs at the start and end are both unbelievable too. He calls it the intro even though it’s not the first track on Red Flame, and tells you to get Blue Flame to understand Red Flame even though there’s no real discernable narrative and they’re both equally confusing. And he apologises to Jay Electronica for jumping on his track. And asks Just Blaze to contact him. God tier. Based God tier.

1. Lil B – Wonton Soup

He gets out of his car, THEN drops the roof, then eats wonton Soup, then gets into the car, then fucks your bitch, then eats wonton soup again, then claims to be “wet like wonton soup”.


The problem with the theography of Lil B is that neither the unfollowable streams of fan effusion nor the point-missing thinkpieces (of which this is kinda one) ever seem to be able to explain why Lil B has managed to sneak into a completely new niche that is neither consistently, demonstrably good or bad, while still being somehow self-evidently worthy of endless acclamation and love.

Wonton Soup is pure hit with vulgarity, like Pretty Bitch. But it’s better. And it has Lil B’s best eight bars full stop.

Suckers stay talking on them internet comments
Mad cos I’m most wanted, like Osama.
Please bitch, you haters don’t got not felonies
Young Based God flex ten armed robberies.
Young Based God been breaking and entering
Young Based God ride hot when you bought it
Thirty on my dick, on that court like Spalding
Bitches suck my dick because I look like JK Rowling.

Happy birthday Based God.

Hip Hop Monday #12: The soil where the rappers be gettin’ they lingo from.

Bay Area music from this year that I like, in YouTube format.

Andre Nickatina & The Jacka – Square Crows [San Francisco]

E-40 – Rear View Mirror [Vallejo]

Lil B – Unchain Me [Berkeley]

Young L – Domo Style [Berkeley]

Roach Gigz – Big Fat Beat [San Francisco]

Main Attrakionz – Swaggin Hard [Oakland]

and of course herself… [Oakland]

Hip Hop Monday #11: Intentionally Misinterpreting Some Rap As If Being Gay Was Considered Good By The Rapper

June is Pride month and, given that Tyler saying ‘faggot’ got plenty of attention, both on this blog and whilst out talking to real humans, I thought I would do something annoying and facetious to celebrate. Now, we all know that being gay is neither good nor bad, but many famous rappers from the murky, unknown times before Odd Future invented homophobia tended to, surprisingly, use homosexuality as a jigsaw piece that would pretty much immediately imply a bunch of negative connotations. As the title of this post implies, I will be cherrypicking quotes from rap songs and reading them as if the rapper considered homosexuality to immediately imply a bunch of positive connotations.

Nas – Halftime (Illmatic, 1994)

Versatile, my style switches like a faggot
But not bisexual, I’m an intellectual
Of rap I’m a professional and that’s no question, yo.

Halftime is the best song on Illmatic, Illmatic is Nas’ best album and Nas is a god-tier rapper (to the extent that when he drops new songs, after more than a decade of doing the opposite of what he did on Illmatic, people still get excited), so this is a very high profile place in the context of hip hop history. Nas plays the difference between heterosexual and homosexual relations against each other to show how different he is, and how aggressively versatile. He is “not bisexual” – this perhaps implies that he is an all-or-nothing rapper, never operating in the shades of the spectrum, but always in black and white, concrete ideas that have conventional, understood meaning to a broad sector of society.

50 Cent – In Da Club (Get Rich or Die Tryin’, 2002)

I’m that cat by the bar toasting to the good life
Yo that faggot ass nigga trying to pull me back right?

A number one song on the Billboard Hot 100, this is another very high profile example of what we are talking about. In these lines, 50 Cent is celebrating his success, but perhaps to excess. His level-headed homosexual friend pulls him aside and convinces him to calm down and not fall victim to the trappings of success as so many have before him.

Lil Wayne – A Milli (Tha Carter III, 2008)

On some faggot bullshit
Call him Dennis Rodman

Lil Wayne’s rap ‘n’ bullshit is in a homosexual style, underpinned by the fact that he kissed Birdman on the lips once. He warrants comparison to Dennis Rodman, who is not gay but occasionally cross-dresses. Everyone is created equal.

Lil B – I’m A Fag I’m A Lesbian

…fuck knows.

A Tribe Called Quest feat. Brand Nubian – Georgie Porgie (Low End Theory outtake, 1991)

Call me homophobic but I know it and you know it
You’re filthy and funny to the utmost exponent
So never will I do it – disrespect my mommy
So go and hide your salami

This unreleased Tribe song, held back by the record label because of how universally positive it was about gay people, is actually entirely on the subject of homosexuality. Yes, even your favourite ‘sound’ rappers, called “the most intelligent, artistic rap group during the 1990s,” by AllMusic, were on the pro-gay tip.

So next time you’re kicking it to Can I Kick It? and reminiscing about the time you reblogged tumblr posts about Tyler being the devil, think on that.

Hip Hop Monday #8: Blueprint, Flocka, Charles Hamilton, Earl, Lil B

No particular theme to this one, just a couple of songs I like, a couple of exciting news items, a small bit of analysis AND INDUSTRIAL DOSES OF SWAG.*

Blueprint – Go Hard Or Go Home (Printnificence)

This is from Blueprint’s solo mixtape Adventures In Counter Culture. With slow, deliberate delivery and polysyllabics and enunciation that land somewhere between West Coast backpack and Doom, he covers some pretty sincere conceptual shit over the course of the tape without ever ending up in “vernacular original miraculous spectacular flow” territory (shouts out to KRS-One’s new album for being mad boring). A few lines I liked from this track:

I’mma tear rap down and rebuild the shit
With total disregard of if the pieces even fit
Reintroduce it to you with an unfamiliar twist
Make it feel different like you fucking a different bitch

My favourite beats are the gloopy, post-Dilla ones, done with soft synths instead of crate digging. The whole thing is a niche of hip hop I haven’t really been into yet, so it’s sounding pretty fresh and inviting at the moment. Although obviously it does sound a little stupid when KRS already made a album called Blueprint first.

Waka Flocka Flame – Brick Squad Monopoly (feat. P Smurf & Mouse)

Waka Flocka Flame still exists and has a new mixtape. This song features the line “You look like Wyclef, bitch that’s why I left.”

Charles Hamilton – Brooklyn Girls

This is Charles Hamilton, who Went Mental And Fell Off before anyone even got a chance to call him the greatest rapper alive in youtube comments, and now endures his mates trying to explain to him that existence costs money. It’s not new (it’s from 2008) but it’s still a jam. Brief potted summary of Charles’ trajectory: made mixtapes, signed to Interscope, got punched by a girl, claimed the ghost of J Dilla was his executive producer, was no longer signed to Interscope. There’s a homemade compilation and a better explanation on George Bush Money.

Earl Sweatshirt – Pigions feat. Wolf Haley

In other news, Earl is in Samoa. If you don’t already know that, the level of attention you are paying to Odd Future constitutes criminal neglect. Those OF members who aren’t 17 and in military school got up with Lil B at Coachella too.

Also, Lil B told Coachella that he’s doing an album called I’m Gay, but he listed about five different mixtape titles on Red Flame that never came out, so Lil B saying he’s going to do something doesn’t necessarily indicate that he’s going to do something. Still, if anyone didn’t get what he was trying to get at with all that ‘pretty bitch’ stuff, he’s spelling it out (note: Lil B is ostensibly not actually gay).

Lil B’s retweets of his fans supporting/admonishing him were really interesting. There were those, like this guy, who just don’t like it and aren’t behind it (no homo) due to old school, straight up homophobia. Others, like this girl, defended it on the grounds that the word gay doesn’t necessarily mean homosexual, which requires cognitive dissonance denser than a rainforest. Other people just approve of anything Lil B does. My favourite argument, however, was one that popped up a couple of times amongst the rest – that words themselves have no meaning. Fascinating anthropological experiment, really.

My take, based on a couple of interviews and the kind of stuff he says on Tumblr occasionally, is that he got a good reaction from fans to the ‘pretty bitch’ stuff. He calls himself a pretty bitch, but he still makes good music – this in itself is kind of a challenge to people within the hip hop community, and it’s part of a normalising process for gayness that also includes Kanye West’s entourage looking mental and Just Blaze and 50 Cent telling their twitter followers not to say ‘no homo’ any more. He just stripped down a couple of the layers to make it simpler for people. Lil B has a Christ complex.

Also, I’m writing at length about it at 3.30am and presumably lots of people around the world are thinking about it too. If he knows how to do anything (apart from miming eating), it’s how to go viral.

* This is a lie.

Hip Hop Monday #3: Pitchfork, Lil B, Jay Electronica, Nicki Minaj

Kanye West feat. Pusha T – Runaway

This one pretty much has to begin with an acknowledgement that Kanye West got a 10.0 on Pitchfork today. Excluding the Robert Pollard onstage banter album that’s annoyingly scuffing up the records with its (1)0.0 dual score, the last albums to get the brave first release 10.0 were Source Tags and Codes by …And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead in February 2002 and Yankee Hotel Foxtrot in April 2002. Both of these albums are boring, but the point is that it’s been a while, and that Kanye’s not exactly the type of music that gets a 10.0 on Pitchfork first time around. So Pitchfork is Saying Something. Decide for yourself what they’re saying, and don’t doubt for a minute that there was a board meeting and teleconference about that score.

Here is a Gchat I had with Seán Mc Tiernan. Shout out to No Chorus. Fuck Nah Right and 2dopeboyz.

Sean: still
it remains irritating to read all this bullshit by people like that
who are like
patting rap music on the head
because of kanye’s album
like i don’t treat any genre of music like that
17:12 i can’t imagine why someone would
aside from making themself feel smart
me: You Did It, Rap Music
Proud of u

I’m reviewing it for Totally Dublin, so I won’t do it here. Maybe I’ll post it next week.

Lil B – Exhibit Based

Last week I posted Bitch Im Bill Clinton off Lil B’s Red Flame mixtape, which was stupid. Lil B does that sort of thing quite a lot, but it clouds the fact that he’s actually a great rapper. It turns him into a cartoon, and that’s not cool. The track above is what happened when he jumped on Just Blaze’s beat Jay Electronica’s Exhibit C. Just Blaze is one of my favourite producers, as an unashamed Jay-Z fan (1996-2004 + Empire State Of Mind), and this could be his best beat. It’s linear and there’s no hook. Jay Electronica murders it, but so does Lil B.

Split a nigga wig make him think that he James Bond
If I ain’t James Bond, bet I got the same gun
Plus I got money in the bank for the bail-bond
Pay him 80 Gs if he thinkin he can tell on
No witness make him run like Rev Run
No blood in his genes like a stepson
Yeah I got 45s I’m travelin to India
I’m finna have 10 kids, it’s my millennium

Jay Electronica – Exhibit C

Fuck it, while we’re here, here’s the Jay Electronica track.

“They call me Jay Electronica. Fuck that.
Call me Jay ElecHannukah
Jay ElecYarmulke
Jay ElectRamadaan Muhammad Asalaamica Rasoul Allah Supana Watallah through your monitor.”

This was last year, and he only eventually signed to Roc Nation, Jay-Z’s odious capitalist enterprise, about ten days ago. A back story about being homeless, not selling crack, if you’re worried about that. This is Mainstream Hip Hop. Revise your opinion on it.

Nicki Minaj feat. Eminem – Roman’s Revenge

Also, Pink Friday leaked, hyped endlessly by Nicki Minaj’s torching of Jay-Z on Kanye’s Monster (which you might have noticed last week if you haven’t got Presumably What Pitchfork Consider The Best Hip Hop Album Ever yourself yet).

She’s a chameleon. Listen, and hear the rappers she likes. Lil Wayne on Did It On Em, a little ODB shudder occasionally, the Drake punchlines (or “hashtag rap“) thrown in throughout, notably “I’m a bad bitch, I’m a cunt/And I kick that ho – punt” on this before Eminem rolls in to remind the public that he’s still in a rage. Probably more I don’t recognise.

Then there’s the give ’em enough rope, I’m-cute-OH-WAIT-I’M-ANGRY stuff. And that weird English accent that narrates MBDTF. “Two shows tonight, that’s Brooklyn and Dallas, then the private party at the Buckingham palace” she says on I’m The Best, and that’s kind of a good metaphor for it. Never a dull moment, even if coming out the same week as Kanye seems like a bit of an oversight.

Finally, Jay-Z’s got a book, and he considers rap lyrics poetry. It’s not. Neither’s Bob Dylan though. And TV’s not film, and blogs aren’t magazines.

Hip Hop Monday #2: Kanye West, Lil B.

Kanye West, Bon Iver, Rick Ross, Jay-Z, Nicki Minaj – Monster

So Kanye West’s album leaked.

The thing about Kanye is that he jumped the shark and stayed relevant. It’s him and Lady Gaga when it comes to present, all-consuming fame at the moment and, as luck would have it, he’s also in the habit of producing excellent music. Everything gets that bit more significant when someone has enough of a profile to be an entire side of the cultural conversation unto themselves.

So Kanye went autotune, went out with that snaky woman, interrupted Taylor Swift and started being more accessibly strange hourly on Twitter. He’s still the guy. If you’re Rick Ross, Nicki Minaj or even Jay-Z, you have a different ringtone for him and you answer with the word ‘yes’. There are a few of these posse tracks on My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, but none of them are as good as this or as significant as this.

Bon Iver opens proceedings, because Kanye is plugged into the lumberjackcore scene or because he heard his voice with a sampler’s ear and thought ‘with distortion that could sing a hook’. Rick Ross trundles in and calls himself a “fat motherfucker”, in keeping with the be-self-deprecating-around-Kanye trend established recently, then decides 4 bars is enough.

Kanye? He calls himself “the best living or dead hands down”. People will tend to say this from time to time, but it’s different when you’ve got this much cultural (and actual) currency. He also says “have you ever had sex with a pharoah?/I put the pussy in a sarcophagus/Now she claiming I bruised her oesophagus” which is Lil Wayne batshit at best.

Then it’s Jay-Z. There was a time when he’d call himself the best rapper alive every 8 bars or so, and as far as something like that can be true, it was true. But here, after Kanye whose vaguely lazy, self-regarding but ultimately satisfying flow is clearly a cut above, he’s shown up as old. If you’re guesting on something as high profile as this, you don’t get killed, especially if you’re still hanging on to claims of ‘best’, and he’s dead as soon as he starts.

And then Nicki Minaj shows up – 3.30 will get you some of the hook, and then her verse. She does voices, if you didn’t know. Sri Lankan, normalish/reggaeton, nice girl, reggaeton, Barbie, growl, Barbie, normalish. She’s head and shoulders above anyone else on this track, and it’s probably the best verse on the album, in my early stages of listening. Guess what’s rumoured though? She has ghostwriters. Is that just sexism because a GIRL without even an album out managed to dance all over Jay-Z, Kanye West and Rick Ross for about 80 seconds on Kanye’s own track? Put it this way, there’s no evidence either way, and Nicki herself says this:

“I write my own raps, I go in the studio by myself. There are some female rappers who can’t go in the studio unless they have a ghostwriter sitting right next to them,” says Minaj. “I’m the complete opposite—I’ll go in and ghostwrite for someone.”

So that addresses that. As for the rest of the album, it’s Kanye coming back to take possession of his evolution of boom-bap rap. It’s a nutcase at the top of his game, lyrically astute but with an odd worldview as divorced from reality as you’d expect from a guy this far away from the real world for this long. The window might not stay open long, but it’s open now and he’s doing it without breaking a sweat.

Lil B – Bitch I’m Bill Clinton

In other news, Lil B, who is definitely bad milk, put out a mixtape that he claims is the greatest mixtape of all time. He tends to claim a lot of stuff that’s not true though. For example, that he’s Bill Clinton. It’s free.