Id be a thousand times more likely to enjoy an NBA game if the players were all puppets. Im not exactly sure what that says about me….but, anyway, for obvious reasons…this is my favorite commercial series to date. I love this game.
Son wins a free turkey for being the most philosophical grocery shopper in a pair of non-bedazzled pants. Think Im playing? Peep that. Sean Price is right. P!
Imagine a nation of people. A freaky deaky people with eight hands. And on each of those hands, twelve fingers, not including the traditional five that come standard on every human palm…and instead of toes, five fingers would meet the ends of an individual foot. You take that number of phalanges, multiply it by two…and you still couldnt count on all of those hands how many times I get called Lil Wayne in a three hour period. Thats an actual mathematical fact. All of the proper research has been conducted.
Albeit scatterbrained and lethargically delivered…I hope the message in this video finds a special place in your heart.
Love,
haji p.
(sorry for being an a-hole.)
This is the reason why Cupid shot the arrow in the digital butts of Youtube & Camera Phone. Not so we could hear your boring rants about your sucky political opinion, or watch some scrawny little black kid with dredds walk around his city and bore us with inane jibba jabba! The two fell in love so we could watch Kevin unload on these niggas! “Unload on these niggas, Kevin!” The illest part, is directly after I watched it, I copped the iGun app and started rolling around the floor, bucking shots at the living room furniture! Thanks, Kevin.
*returns to iShooting living room furniture*
Yup, thats me. The Fresh Prints of the Bay. Performing @ Red Devil Lounge in San Francisco with fellow rap crew, Rec League. From what I could tell, the crowd seemed to be enjoying it immensely. And I’m pretty sure they were so bedazzled by my impromptu mumbling, they didnt even realize I actually forgot a line in the first verse. Tadaow!
I never did go to sleep watching cartoons. Instead, Homeboy Mike hit me up about a cookout (and other continued shenanigans) at his beach spot. With that said, allow the trumpets to blow for the oncoming of misadventure…
I mean, it’s no secret…I’m irrefutably not to be messed with, son!
There comes a point in every rappers life when they gotta say, “You know what? People really dont like what I do. My raps are both boring and unappealing to the general audience.” Thats when its time to break out the big guns. And by “big guns,” I mean a white boy with a guitar. Cause, lets be honest…thats whats hot in the streets right now. Well, in a last ditch effort to get a crowd to love me and the silly little songs I do, I paired up with a good friend of mine, Brandon Caruso, who just happens to have one of those stringy instrument things… enjoy.
