• » Name: Meka Soul
• » Location: Los Angeles, CA
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Slap-Boxing With Jesus

Tuck Ya Chains And Cuff Ya Bidges!

Before I even get into this shit, who else felt a slight bit of discomfort when you caught that Rick Ross and Nelly video for the first time, knowing that yakmouths like Flatfoot Ross and muh’fucking Snoop from The Wire swimming in women so ridiculously fine they obviously aren’t from this realm? And how awful is it that while I’m watching B.E.T. Late while typing this drivel that Maino’s “Hi Hater” video, which came on directly after “Here I Am,” looks incredibly low-budgeted compared to its predecessor? Good lord, can New York hip-hop get any lower?

Oh wait, it just did. Shesus Khryst, someone needs an intervention quickfast.

I guess all this rampant fucktascity going on Before Evolution Television (with the exception of Alicia Key’s excruciatingly fine, honey brown self) is making me slightly more gassed that I’ll be engaging in public drunkenness, disgusting food that will likely be overpriced (mental note: stay the fuck away from the orange chicken man), good music and free swag that is Rock The Bells this Saturday, despite I have to wake up all kinds of retarded early to get there. Living in Los Angeles is a bitch, especially when you have to drive an hour-plus outside of town just to hear rappers who came out in the 1980s and – if you’re not so lucky – a whole bunch of hipster-hop. But shit, I’m getting in for free anyways, so it’s not like I can really complain.

Actually, I’m more hyped about this year’s incarnation than I was 365 days ago. Whereas I saw chubby YTs slumped out in the lines from binge drinking before actually arriving to the venue and a guy going in on a girl’s love spot as if he was drilling for oil in between the four acts I actually stuck around to watch (two of which I can’t even remember), seeing Pharcyde, De La Soul and A Tribe Called Quest for the first time ever has piqued my intrigue. Nas? Not so much (sorry, Amanda). I saw duke perform at Rock The Bells three years ago, and in the middle of the set he got his spot jacked from KRS-One of all people. I half-expected The Teacha to punt one of those Bravehearts bud bearers off the stage a la PM Dawn, but wishful thinking can only go so far.

As usual, I invite fans, c-boys, c-girls, shit talkers and antagonists alike to stop by the DX booth, where you can cop some mass-produced bullsh… errr…a t-shirt and/or mixtape or – if you’re feeling particularly froggy – get berated by one of us schlubs here on this section. I know Brillyance will be lurking around somewhere doing drive-by dozens as well. And ladies, the offer to get impregnated by a quasi-bigoted, loudmouth Nigerian with a heart of gold (or is that chicken?) and an inconsistent source of income (I’m a journalist, remember) is still out there. Don’t let me make the mistake I made three years ago.

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