Word to Dennis Coles: I want you to have a good summer. Hopefully, among other things, a cop doesn't decide to kidnap you, brutalize you, and then frame you for your own murder. More on that later, and back to Mr. Coles. Ghostface's now-infamous video-phone chin-check to Action Bronson's too-loose lips was—despite Tony Starks's insistence that it wasn't a racial matter—nonetheless a blow to unchecked rap colonialism. No, you may not steal my essence and then disrespect me. Ghost Dini even interacted with the Teddy Pendergrass song blaring in the back, because he talks to the spirits of our ancestors, which Action cannot. This be the godbody!
Yas, Nicki Minaj took MTV and the VMAs to task on anti-blackness and sizeism—and no matter what rap moralists (usually dudes) think of Nick, her take is dead-on: Black women set the standard and then get no credit or love. Meanwhile, back at the ranch: Nicki's man Meek Mill decided to air out Drake for having a ghostwriter, alleging that ATL MC Quentin Miller (of the group WDNG Crshrs) had been writing Drizzy's bars. Funkmaster Flex then leaked the reference track for Drake's "10 Bands," featuring Mr. Miller spitting the bars. This, my friends, will only end in tears.
And yes, Young Thug and Birdman were named in an indictment against Young Thug's road manager as being part of a plot to kill Lil Wayne. (Things have obviously progressed past recording dis videos in portrait mode.) This is some true Greek tragedy shit, seeing as Wayne grew up literally calling Birdman his "daddy" and is the metaphorical father to Thugger's whole style. All this while Thug was already locked up for threatening to shoot a mall cop, in the style of the late great Pimp C. Even still, Thug's new "Pacifier" is my current cup of coffee: Bleed the cops! Bleed it, bleed it, bleed it, bleed it!
I know: The rap tabloid shit is pure distraction, engineered by shatan himself. I could use a distraction, though, and maybe you could, too. So hit up the latest Home Slice show at the Croc on Wednesday, July 29, (featuring Mega Evers, Malcolm Rebel, Zuke Saga, and Grimeshine). Catch the guy Spekulation (with OTOW Gang, Dex Amora, and Jamil Suleman) at Columbia City Theater on Thursday, July 30. Peep out Oaktown's rising R&B chanteuse Kehlani at the Croc on Saturday, August 1, and revel with Atlanta's joyously crass DIY-rap hedonist-mogul Father with his Awful Records clan in the same room on Monday, August 3.
None of it takes away from the fact that Sandra Bland—not even the latest—is dead, and the police whose custody she died in are scrambling to smear her. How'd a confident six-foot woman about to start a new life hang herself in a jail cell with a fucking trash bag? After consuming a bunch of marijuana, while in custody? None of it makes any sense. (I THINK THEY KILLED HER.) None of it makes it easier, makes it stop, or makes you or me any safer when we leave the house. So stay frosty—or heated, if you prefer. Love.