Live From My Living Room

For the last few years I’ve been watching the VH1 Hip Hop Honors as a fan. See, as a 30-something B-Girl, about all I’ve got left is nostalgia. While people like Wacka Flocka (and his mama) and Soulja Boy (still waiting for him to tell us) seemingly turn their asses up at the roots of this music I love and make whack rap music, I’ve looked to VH1 to give me glimpses of my old favs and “share” the space with other nostalgics while they pay homage to the greats. I also watch as a reporter of fuckery…foolywang…coonery…niggatry. All 4 were in full effect last night.

Before I even tell about that, let me say this. This year was the tribute to the Dirty South. Off the break your mind should be wandering to the myriad ways this could go. Don’t do that. First I want you to ponder the reason why Outkast decided they would not allow themselves to be honored by VH1. Sir Lucius Leftfoot (Big Boi if you ain’t a real head) said the Honors seems to be something of a Hip Hop graveyard. Artists being honored are either finished or after being honored seem to fade to black. Southern rap ain’t southern rap without da ‘Kast, but I felt my man on this and nod my head in agreement. We still need Andre 3000 and Big Boi.

Now, for the B.S.

1. I mess with Kid Rock. Something about him appears down to earth. Perhaps it’s the greasy, stringy hair that makes him seem like a regulah dude. Regulah dude or not, I don’t understand why we always gotta give folks Honorary Negro status. Over it.

2. Uncle Luke, Luther Campbell on his checks, was honored last night. Father of Miami Bass music, he deserves to be honored. It was appropriate for him to participate in his own tribute because who the hell else could really master this bass-heavy, lyric-lite example of coonery personified? I ask this question as an appreciative former booty bass battlin’ chick. I loved this shit & think Pussy Poppers should stand up and celebrate our heyday in the clubs. Shayne, I see you girl. It was battle royale at Velocity. No finer opponent.

3. Rapper Daddies were in full effect. But uhmmm….why, Why, WHY are you sittin’ in proud papa mode, babies on your laps, while the most sexually explicit announcers and performances graced the stage? The only child old enough to be in the house was Percy Miller’s son, [not so Lil] Romeo.

4. Dear Game,
You’re a 30-year old father. Pull your damn pants up already. I shouldn’t know your ass, nice as it seems to be (at least on my 32 in flatscreen), is covered only by Polo boxer briefs. Once there’s no longer a 2 in the tens column of your age growth is REQUIRED. Please see your nearest real man for further instructions.

5. Did Jermaine Dupri really say Dem Franchize Boyz’ song “White Tee” was the 1st time he felt the South’s takeover? Ninja, where were you? J.D.’s confusion on the actual date that the South was officially more than a contender in the game doesn’t discount the fact that I messed with “Oh, I Think They Like Me.” Dem Franchize Boyz had us all snappin’ in the unfortunately extended remix of the remix of the dance-track. I can’t take another song about a dance.

6. Bow Wow, singular, stood in as Kris and Kross, plural. They were, apparently, totally crossed out and I think it was effed up ain’t nobody call those boys and see if they wanted to play themselves for a small contribution to their Keep the Krisses Warm fund. Luckily, Bow Wow ripped it (something I never thought I’d say) and was 1 of the few lowlights of the night.

7. Sean Diddy Combs. Breath control, sir. Buy some, post haste.

8. Is it just me or do you think that, if he NEVER opened his mouth and let you hear him speak, Silkk the Shocker could be Sean Carter’s little brother?

9. I’m still sad that Gucci Mane exists at all. Gucci Mane as an artist “might don’t make it. “

10. I see Celebrity Fit Club not only didn’t work for Bone Crusher, but to make up for the meals he missed while on the show he swallowed himself whole.

11. A lot of white men in the Midwest are getting together to pretend to fight in medieval times. If you’re a black man and you wondered perhaps what it might have been like in slav’ry times, well, there’s always listening to or watching the Ying Yang Twins. For next to nothing you can feel like you’re eatin’ goobers in the quarters after pickin time. Send ‘em a thank you card for the experience.

12. I love Missy. I love that this chick can sing but chose to completely blow better lyricists outta the water with her production skills. Just for fun. Still, as much as I love her, and watching a big girl move with dexterity, I canNOT support the 1-sided floor-length weave; especially not when worn with a custom made ADIDAS trash bag suit. It looked as if she was trying to disguise the fact that weight loss wasn’t something she was able to keep up the payments on, but she only made it obvious she’s made some additions to her structure. We love you anyway, Misdemeanor Elliot.

13. Timbaland, please make a note to self: “just say no to recorded interviews when I have a cold.” Timbaland's sinuses must’ve been auditioning for a Mucinex commercial. He was right when he said music can be found everywhere in nature, but there’s nothing musical about the sound of your struggling nasal passages.

14. Ricky Ross and DJ Khaled’s swole asses wearing furs under hot stage lights, looking like dark chocolate and butter pecan ice cream melting. Not sexy.

Honorable Mentions for the night:

2 Live Crew’s throwback dancers carried the bit all the way and even wore high-waisted spandex outfits, knee length pants and matching sports bra. Made me wonder when Oaktown 357 would make an appearance on some Where Are They Now? type show.

Why was Asher Roth BETTER than all the other rappers who rapped over the original voices (mostly off, to boot). Asher got it in on the Organized Noize tribute and didn’t use the original voice. I don’t suggest we make him an Honorary Negro but he did his thing.

Khujo Goodie made the cut last year for the BET Hip Hop Awards. He makes it again this year. Hell yeah, I’d be scared of him on the street. At the same time, I’d be strangely intrigued by his natural black man posturing and his ability to be menacing with a prosthetic leg. Only a black man could give swag to a prosthetic. I respect that.

Lastly, T.I.’s code to live by, schooled on the streets of the A. It’s paraphrased because 1 part of it kinda got lost in the southern drawl—or was it my distraction by his delicious pink lips—

do what you say
say what you mean
walk yo’ walk
while you stand on your word

Chu’ch!