RICK ROSS FEATURING KANYE WEST- LIVE FAST, DIE YOUNG
ROSS AND WEST ARE STARTING TO TEAM UP ALOT LATELY. THE TUNES THESE TWO ARTIST ARE PUTTING TOGETHER ARE BREAKING THE ICE. THIS IS THE SECOND SINGLE OFF OF RICK ROSS' UPCOMING "TEFLON DON" ALBUM. I FEEL LIKE RICK ROSS IS GROWING. HE TAKES A BIG PART IN THE MUSIC INDUSTRY IF YOU ASK ME. LOOK AT WHAT HE'S DOING THEN ASK YOUR SELF IF HE WILL TAKE A HUGE PART IN HIP-HOP FOR YEARS TO COME.THE TRACK IS DOPE, K-WEST KILLS THIS TRACK. THE HOMIE IS BACK GIVING "A" WORK. TO HEAR THE TUNE CLICK "PLAY" ON THE AUDIO PROVIDED.
GOOD TIMING ABATHING APE. LAST WEEK NIGO AND THE BAPE TEAM PRESENTED THERE LOOKS FOR WINTER/2010 AND THAT FAST WE HAVE THE FIRST ITEMS ON DECK TO BE RELEASED.THE PICTURES PROVIDED ARE THE FIRST DROPS THAT WILL BE OFFERED FOR THERE FIRST WINTER/2010 SHIPMENT. THE BAPE-NATIVE PRINT ABATHING APE HAS DECIDED TO RELEASE THIS WINTER IS GROWING ON ME AND I HAVEN'T EVEN SEEN THE ITEMS IN PERSON. NIGO AND HIS TEAM HAS ALWAYS DESTROYED THERE COLLECTIONS, MY OPINION. THE PHOTOS PROVIDED ARE FROM THE DEPARTMENTS OF MEN'S BAPE , EXCLUSIVE BAPE, URSUS, AND EVEN WOMEN'S BAPE. ALSO THE DENIM THAT THE GOOD HOMIE NIGO HAS BEEN SPORTING ALOT THAT SOME OF US HAVE MISTAKEN FOR NBHD ARE OFFERED AS WELL IN THESE PHOTOS. I'M STILL WAITING TO SEE THE "BAPE JUMPER" IN ANOTHER LOOK. I'M TRYNNA GO BACK TO ELEMENTRY SCHOOL. THESE ARE GOING TO BE GOOD DROPS.CLICK "READ MORE" TO GET A VIEW OF THE FOUR LINES OFFERD IN THE FIRST SHIPMENT FOR BAPE'S WINTER/2010.
BRIAN AKA "KAWS" HAS ANOTHER COLLABORATION IN HIS HANDS. THE COLLABORATION INVOLVES THE IMPORTED BEER BRAND "DOS EQUIS" WHICH IN THE SPANISH LANGUAGE MEANS "TWO" X'S. IT'S A GREAT MATCH UP FOR KAWS AS YOU CAN TELL. ANYTHING INVOLVING GRADE "A" ART AND A BEVERAGE THAT CAN GET YOU WASTED SOUNDS DOPE TO ME. I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE WHATS GOING TO HAPPEN WITH THIS. IT'S A GOOD PROJECT TO THINK ABOUT, IT'S HARD TO PREDICT SOMETHING WHEN IT'S A NEW IDEA NEVER SEEN. THE LOGO BELOW BELONGS TO THE BEER COMPANY "DOS EQUIS". I DARE YOU TRY AND PUT YOUR THOUGHTS TOGETHER TO TRY AND FIGURE OUT WHATS GOING TO HAPPEN WITH THIS COLLABORATION, BECAUSE I AM.
Only a fool would believe that I ever felt shame all those other times I jerked, and last night was no different. "But it's not what you think, Dad!" I went to Poop Snacks's Beef Snacks party last night, and I have to hand it to him, the man knows how to make meat chewy and flavorful. What are you doing with your life that's so great, Rabbit? Compared to Poop Snacks? Nothing. Nothing.
With DP as my guy'd, we ambled into the carnival of the Slant Shack Jerky Launch Party, following the bright chalk directions we discovered only after we were pretty much already there, having taken a circuitous route past Rape Park and Rape Building. $10 bought me admission into the burgeoning Brooklyn meat-salting scene, and all the jerky and PBR I could pack away. This is what I had been training for.
The gift bags, oh the gift bags. This party had jerky swag; each attendee received a brown paper bag with 2 oz of jerky, a bottle opener, a coupon for purchases at Slant Shack's website, and two books of matches. OR SO I THOUGHT. These customized books of matches said "Wanna shack up?" on the front. I was so amused. Until DP opened his book of matches and we were met with a conspicuous latex o-ring that could have saved the Challenger. Oh so it's that kind of party? SHITCHYEAH! I would go down on a teryaki-flavored ( I'm assuming, I'm hoping) condom all night. And by would, I mean WHERE DO I BUY MORE?
Red-shirted girls with bowls of meat wandered through the crowd of white people, offering little scraps of delicious savory smoked beef with smiles on their faces. Somewhere between my third and fourth Pabst Blue Ribbon, I just started addressing them as "Jerky Girls" I would catch their eye, hold out my hands like Oliver Fucking Twist, and they would tong me with a new meat scrap, as Poop Snacks probably told them to during their Sunday undress rehearsal. At this point, I would say "OOOOOOOH YOU'RE MY FAVORITE JERKY GIRL!" within ear-shot of the other Jerky Girls, whom I also said were my favorite. And I meant it, ERRYTIME. Whoever hands me meat is in that moment my favorite Jerky Girl. This weekend, Pheewrap at some point will probably be my favorite Jerky Girl. "Do you mind that I call you Jerky Girls?" I asked two of them through a mouthful of brown dessicated cowmeat. "No, I think that's what we're called," one said while she looked imploringly at her fellow meatress. "Our shirts have our names on them too, though!" the other offered, like I cared. Like I wanted anything from them but their sweetmeats for young boys. Like I wasn't getting the shakes from needing a new jerky hit.
Somewhere between my sixth and seventh Pabst Blue Ribbon, I decided that the T-Rex did not want to be fed, the T-Rex wanted to hunt! Oh, and somewhere in there, I decided I was a dinosaur, and that I was a clever girl. I succeeded in pulling a piece of jerky out of a sullen Jerky Girl's bowl while the band, yes, the band, played under the navy-blue sky of East Williamsburg. Poop Snacks, you throw a badass circle jerky. You are the Meat Magnate.
