Baltimore show day.
This venue was fuckin' DOPE. It's called Rams Head (Hahaaa, I said “head.”) in downtown B-More and it still smelled new. All the staff was top notch from the sound people, to the barTENDERs to the hospitality girl, to the security all the way down to the ticket booth people. Professionals. Thank you very much.
Let me apologize to the city of B-more for anything foul I said in the last blog. Baltimore is dope. They have much flavor. I even met cool cops out there. Before soundcheck we had some time so Ant asks me if I felt like walking around exploring…Why the fuck not. We found this dope ass harbor side area with a pirate ship (complete with cannons) and there were some little dragon boats you could rent for 15 bucks and ride around but it was for two people and the life vests were manditory and bright orange. So we decided that wasn't gonna happen for us today.
I walked into a hat store and bought a Fred Astaire type of top hat and I rocked that shit and it works for me cuz I'm on some classy shit. Next, I'm walking around the venue before the show starts and this 16-year-old Indian girl stopped me and told me that Scarub was her favorite Living Legend. I told her that he was my favorite as well, but I didn't mean it. (I love u Scarub!) I told her that she would have a new favorite after I was done tonight, like the cocky bastard I am. The show started and there was opening local act so I wasn't up first. A group called Educated Consumers. They are good people and they probably have nice handwriting but the MC is corny as fuck. And the beats were like ehhhhh. Sorry man, I guess I'm a hater. Psssssssh, Nagga please. Anywayzzz…I wanna thank them for being them because they set it up for me underhand slow pitch lobb style…
I came up and knocked it out the park…destroyed it like that gas station bathroom. I seem to have better performances when my sound is perfect, thas why I know I need a traveling soundman and in-ear monitors (label note). I ripped a great set and did so well it made Mac Lethal come out and say some slick shit at the beginning of his set for whatever reasons. I can't go further into this because I need to talk to him personally first and if it's nothin, it's nuthin. But it fucked with my vibe but not in a bad way, it just got me juiced for my next set after he finished. I came back out and let everybody in the packed house know why they needed to know me and get with Lucky if they wasn't already on the team. I ended my set with “Memory Loss,” my daughter Amina's song off of Most Likely To Succeed and saw five girls crying in the front row. It was the most passionate performance of that song I've EVER done. I went to hang out by the merch booth and people were buying my shirts and CDs because I did my fucking job, not cuz I was Percy P'ing them. Thas whas up.
Thank you Baltimore, DC, Virgina and anyone else who came out and supported. I saw the 16 year old Indian girl coming towards me, she walked up said “Now I like you more than The Grouch and Scarub” (She had left our Grouch earlier.) I'd be lying if I said that didn't feel awesome.
Tonight I wasn't drunk (redbulls and water) and I watched Greyskul…I mean, really watched Greyskul. These doots are fuggin dope. The two styles of the MCs; Onry and JFK with XP and the beats and the fuckin content on this new album is dope as fuck. I'm serious, they have earned my full attention. I'm gonna buy a copy of they're CD tonight on GP.
Ooohhh Oooooohh Ooohhh…I saw a dope ass chick fight. It was during Brother Ali's set, oh yeah, my little brother Big Brother Ali was on the show in B-more with us. It had something to do with the retail convention. The show was a Rhymesayers showcase minus that silly opening act. I wasn't even suposed to perform but I guess we see where it's going with me and this Rhymesayers shit huh?! jk. (Or am I ? Maybe..)
But the second song of Ali's set, right next to me infront of the speakers, these girls start throwin em…I mean they started gettin busy, moving furniture and shit… I was impressed. It was so good I stopped watchin Brother Ali and watched them. It was so packed that security couldn't see them scrappin and Ali was rippin it so hard that even if they did see the commotion they could have mistaken it for a patch of people gettin hype. They fought for a good seven to eight minutes which is a eternity in fight time, UFC championship matches don't even last that long doot. Sooooo finally I stepped in to break it up and this one chick got real HEATED…I'm trying to seperate them and she had been fighting for so long that she was at that “fuck everybody point.” She screamed directly in my face: “THAT BITCH STOLE MY PURSE, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT, HUH? WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF SOMEBODY STOLE YOUR WALLET?” I camly replied, “I'd beat that ass.” Then she told me, “WELL WHAT THE FUCK ARE DOING HERE, GO AND GET IT FOR ME!” Which was my signal to walk away from this girl and not think about this incident again till time to write my daily blog.
I feel good and I wanna get something off of my chest. [Lucky Rant-please listen]
I have respect for our fans. Everytime you guys come up to me and say what you feel, I appreciate it and my interaction with all of you I've come across is genuine. I don't think in the realm of “yous a dickrider or pee-on” or none of that booshit. I started Living Legends with Sunspot Jonz and I've seen it all from the begining of this “indie/underground scene” to the wide open future and potential we have ahead of us when I see artists like Kanye West almost selling a mill-ticket in a week.
The dooots (the guys) have had our backs since day one. Helped feed us, pay rent, child supports and mortgages, car payments and everything. Listened to us, changed life, bought CDs, wax and tapes, loved, burned, dubbed, went to any and every show we have done or been connected to, rocked the gear before it was “indie hipster cool” and loved us so much that they made the women who loved them love us. Much Respect homies. But what do you get in return from us all these years down the road beyond this music we keep crankin out?
Listen up people. It's 2:30 AM and I walk into a backstage dressing room and sit on the couch. There are four to five girls chillen in there with four MCs (No Atmos)…(By the way, Murs invented this concept so I can't take credit for it's birth)
Ladies, unless you are someone's wife or family or close personal friend OR the MC who invited you backstage sincerely just wants to talk to you…If you are backstage at 2:30 in the morning and you are not sucking somebodys dick or fucking them, what the fuck are you there for? Get the fuck out. Your only invited back because you have some tits and a pussy and if you ain't gonna use em then what the fuck are you doing there? I'm sure that May have caused some outrage and the retort might sound something like this: “Can't we just chill and talk or whateva?”
No. It's not fuckin fair to Larry or Paul or Craig or Johnny who grew up on us, begged his mom to buy that copy of Black Sands or Overcast and went to shows back when you could pay with top ramen to get in. He could never chill with us like that…why? Because he doesn't have a pussy and some B-cups? Fuckin Bullshit. Thas why I have respect for the female fans that pay they're respects and keep it moving. There are a lot of them out there that listen to the music and love it and not the man or men who made it. I dunno, the silly bitches just ruin it for everybody and when I see em teasing the little homies I'm gonna speak up, cuz when I was on the market I wasted a good couple years of my life trying to sweet talk my way into some groupie capris.
Fuck that shit. It's almost 2008 doot, that shit is ridiculous and my time is precious, an honor and a privlege. Fellas don't beat around the bush, just beat the bush. Or if you wanna turn dressing rooms into the set of The View or Oprah, invite some male fans back too so you can all get no pussy together.
Focker Out.
I Love u.
Lucky
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