Is it too much to ask that the trend of country-fried, niggnorant rap die a fiery, merciless death? Between the toxic spawns of "Yung/Young's", "Lil's" and "Boyz" polluting radio airwaves 'round the clock, I can't take the shit anymore. The ear rape better known as Bammas 'R Us has to be a potent brain cell degenerate by the BPM, but everybody's too busy polishing their new grillz to a chrome finish to pay attention. The trend has always been to remain a few steps behind once the Mason-Dixon line is crossed, (ex. quality of public school education, evangelical bible thumpers, the Bush mafia, sweeping red-state endorsements of Dumbya's re-election) ... but, it really shows in the music.

It's almost as if making joints that birds love to squawk to is an innate gift. While it's a given that true originality doesn't exist in the industry, is it too much to ask that the conventional and expected content that people have come to expect for so long and seem to love with an unwavering passion evolve past its primitive appeal? From pimp fetishes to the slurred dialect, it's almost as if the affirmation of deep-rooted stereotypes are relished with pride. And don't even get me started on that trash christened snap music. It never should have been allowed to escape beyond its region of origin. It's like some deep, twisted family secret that should've never come to the light. Right up there with marrying your second cousin.

There are certainly exceptions to every rule and this is not a sweeping indictment of all things sprouting from the Dirty South. My loathing of bullshit like Dem Franchise Boyz, Mike Jones, Chamillionaire & the diarrhea anthem of it all, Laffy Taffy doesn't negate the props I give acts like 'Kast, Cunninlynguists, Little Brother, Goodie Mob, Scarface, Supastition, Luda, etc. However, if being branded "a hater" because I don't like something and mention it in public, then fuck it, I'll be that... but it is what it is.

You can chop it, screw it or bounce it, but I'd rather light my pubic hairs on fire than to sit through a Rap City countdown with the illiterati's greatest hits making up positions 20-1. I'm all crunked out and am dialing 911 in need of detox.

Labels: hip hop, music, rants