And to get with me you better be Chief Lots-O-Doe.

Ha! Only jokin! Money's only good for rolling around naked on at Rozay's parties. I don't need money.


Please just be sweet, and not a cop, and don't be uptight when I culture-poach in the name of fashion, of course be nice to my mom, and enjoy grabbin hips, singing/rapping while driving, and sharing in my excitement when I find cute shoes and a feather necklace at the swap meet that also remind me of a freaking rap classic from last decade, a big fat beautiful song about global ass and ethnic stereotypes. You'll also need to worship me when appropriate and tell me to knock it the fuck off when appropriate. Your work will be rewarded, though, I promise--in homemade cupcakes and affection and my eternal feminine gratitude for killing bugs and opening jars. I would also like you to listen to my daily rants about the sad state of rap music (Pusha T's verse is about that Lanvin H&M collection? And his voice seems to have lost something, that snap and fire; he sounds tired) and my daily speeches about the beautiful state of rap music (bug-eating Fairfax boys). I dress my ass off and my walk is meannnnn but who cares when I know all you boys care about is my big heart and my master's degree. And that fact that I can tell you Barry White produced that break!





Professor Longhair - “Big Chief.”

mp3.







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