Now I’m being just plain lazy:

“Lamont do with Rollo”

All hearsay and conjecture, just in time for the weekend.

Another from J Rocka:

“Your body is bangin’ baby, I love the way you flaunt it. Time to give it to Daddy, Sugar. Now tell me how you want it.”

Can you tell it’s the weekend?

Another from J Rocka:

“Niggas best protect they joints for nine nickel. Man, I stay on point like icicles.”

The question is what does J have to say about this?… If I may interject, oh the Meth, the Meth.

This is the first in a series of submissions from J Rocka in Los Angeles. Take it away J!

“Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle little star. I sliggity-slam dunk like Kareem Abdul-Jabbar”

Thanks for playing.

Can you guess what’s next?…

“Relax yourself girl, please settle down.”

I had no idea! Over the weekend, someone kindly hipped me to the correct lyrics (thanks J). For years, I have been saying–well, it doesn’t matter what I’ve been saying. This, apparently, is what the verse actually is.

“When I walk up in the piece, I ain’t gotta even speak. I’m a bad mamajama goddamm!t motherf*cker you ain’t gotta like me.”

This one was sent in by Jay Dizzle (we know who you really are.) His comment, “’cause that’s how it is.”

I thought the song was appropriate following yesterday’s post. Yet if I were to pick a line from this song, which I did, it would be, and is, this one from Ludacris:

“Hold the phone, three years later, stepped out of the swamp in ten and a half gators.”

There’s just such a visual there.

Keeping gossip to a minimum,

JB

“The disco ball in my mouth insinuates I’m ballin’.”

Another one from the T to the Y of the NYC. This one is particularly scintillating.