Paul Davidson Called Me White |
One day I was walking by, with a walkman on, when I caught PaulyD giving me an awkward eye...
It turns out that fool thinks he”™s blacker than I am. Over at his dainty, suburban penthouse, Words for My Enjoyment, home slice started talking shit.
But down here on the JSDC block, in the ”˜DC hood, we know all about that.
Of course I could have proved that he is whiter than I am by going on and on about how he wears Birkenstocks while he watches his maid clean his house and his gardener trim his rosebushes and lady slippers, but, instead, I kept to the Rules of Video Log and busted out a single-take video. Actually, after reading his post I went down to the parking garage and procured said video from the guard there. It”™s from earlier today when I first woke-up and went downstairs to pour out a 40 for Pac. Who knew there were surveillance cameras? I didn't until my roommate told me.
Anyway, that”™s right, Paul Davidson: I am more black than you even in my pajamas. So, from me to you, you white-picket-fence loving, weekend clam-baking, American Express toting, yacht driving, cricket playing blogga: It”™s a rap-off with full street-cred honor at stake. Now bask in the streetness of my amazing, high-quality, gangsta VLOG.
[Video removed because Method Man got too jealous. Too bad you missed it, sucka.]
Tad-dow! Dissed! What?
That”™s what I thought.
It”™s a good thing this surveillance video quality is shitty and you can”™t see my hardcore facial expressions or else you”™d be really scared.
As the great GZA once said,
Energy is felt once the cards are dealt / With the impact of roundhouse kicks from black belts / That attack, the mic-fones like cyclones or typhoon / I represent from midnight to high noon
All I have to say, PaulyD, is you best study a tape of NWA,
And never bring a blog to a VLOG fight.
PS: What the hell is Bananarama?
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