Kurupt featuring Pete Rock, “Yessir” off the Streetlights album that dropped in April.

This record is fire. Pete Rock kills it. Kurupt follows suit. Now that’s gangsta.

Yet another perfect-rating from Chris Faraone.  I’ll probably be scooping this album soon enough.

Apparently this joint is actually printed-up on some 7″ vinyl, and was given away with the newest issue of Wax Poetics.

Download here — Right click-clack and save as, bitches.

Insert “I wish Bis always rhymed over nice production” comment…  Now.

If you know me, chances are you’re aware that I’m an avid reader of Chris Faraone.  However, for some awful reason, The Providence Phoenix barely prints record reviews or anything hip-hop related that isn’t penned by Chris Conti anymore.  So, over the past couple years, I’ve resorted to reading Faraone’s work on The Phoenix website whenever I don’t have the time to grab The Boston Phoenix, in which he is printed weekly.

Anyway, about a year ago a number of his articles started to receive trackbacks from Jump the Turnstyle, a blog that Faraone had apparently been posting on regularly.  Since then I’ve all but boycotted clicking-through The Phoenix‘s website and starting checking JTTS daily for links to his Phoenix articles and whatever else he writes for the site.

I’ve never really even trusted the mans more-often-than-not hard-nosed, semi-elitist opinion on music, yet, in what may seem like an extremely ironic contrast, he’s one of the only hip-hop journalists (<—a dying breed) I actually take seriously.  What can I say, I think he’s a good writer and his knowledge of and dedication to hip-hop run longer than his wordy-ass sentences — and that’s something I can appreciate.

Check out Jump the Turnstyle, the newest addition to TECB’s blogroll, where you can catch the majority of Faraone’s hip-hop publications, and a bunch of random shit from a few other Boston cats.

I’m actually considering the purchase of this album, seeing how Marco is turning into the DJ Premier of years passed.  (He makes even average cats sound exceptional.)

Also, I figured I’d mention how The Exxecution is one of the three record’s (others: 1 & 2) Chris Faraone has scored perfectly in the past year.

That’s it for now.  The Bruins are on.  Let us know what you think of the video.

A joint going out to all you mo-mo’s who “like words” too much to get down with some fine instrumental tunes…

Get the above single for free, and the rest of the EP for a small fee over at White’s Bandcamp page (along with all of the other goodies that I put you on to in my massive ’09 year in review).

And don’t bother coming back here if you ain’t messing with at least one of them Paul White instrumentals.  Seriously.  Take a hike.

…from our header to go with the cleaner, non-offensive one you can now see above.  Even though everyone can agree that our new appearance is better by a country mile, a couple of people have actually said how they missed the mammoth man eating the basketball-sized burger.

So here he is, making his triumphant return to TECB, and probably pissing-off Verbal while doing so.  I wanted to accompany him with this mid-nineties heat rock:

Even with never dropping an official album, J-Treds is still one of my favorite emcees.  Yes.  Of all time.  The second verse is him, for those who don’t know.

To all my dudes : I dare you to watch this video and not have your pants get a few inches shorter.

To my lady : A spade is a spade. Rihanna is a dope spade.

To Rihanna : What Jay-Z is to Roc-a-fella I am to retail wireless sales.

I could extend our “Gangsta’s in the Kitchen Doing Gangsta Shit” series here but I don’t go near the kitchen. Not because I’m super sexist, but because my parents are cousins and I was born half retarded. Plus everyone knows how to make mashed potates. You peel them shits. Smash them shits. Whip them shits. Word to Method Man. Sprinkle in your fave-five fancy shit, i.e, garlic, rosemary, chopped green onion, et al, and Frank Viola, you have smashed face potatoes. Good job ya dunce.

The wiener-schnitzel I ordered Ill Communication from finally delivered the goods. I hold it under Paul’s Boutique (which is my #1 Beastie Boys Album), Licensed to Ill and Hello Nasty but it’s still pretty fucking dope. “Sure Shot” leads off the album and that song is just stereotypical Beastie. “Sabotage” is another track everyone and the mother knows, and rightfully so, because it bangs, is also on here. Q-Tip stops by on “Get it Together” which is factually proven to be the best track on the record (TECB is gospel, son.)

When I was a youngin’ listening to these dudes, I feel I never gave them more of a listen. I just blasted the radio hits and skipped over the dope production interludes and passed over every other track and chalked it up as filler. . . even though I didn’t know what filler was at the time. As an adult (can I say that when I still sit cross-legged [Indian-style for all you racists] while playing and managing virtual baseball teams on the X Box,) I appreciate Beastie Boys more than ever. They’re geniuses and more than pioneers. I wish they received more shout-outs from dudes in Hip-Hop nowadays. I hold them in just as high regard as Kool G Rap, Rakim, and KRS-1. They’re not as nice lyrically as Giacanna, but their genre bending style and ridiculous beats should be in everyone’s collection.

I was 10 when this album came out. I was 2 when Licensed to Ill dropped. Even though Ad-Rock could be in the next Just For Men ad, he’s still so Hip-Hop.

The other day I bought a couple Too Short albums — Shorty The Pimp and Cocktails.  I’ve had Shorty on cassette for years now and thought it was about time to upgrade to the CD format, especially because I haven’t had a tape player since I scrapped the Camry a year ago.  Not to mention the album is live as hell.

Anyway, I threw it in my CD player only to find out how Shorty The Pimp was actually Shorty The Player, the edited version of the album that, strangely enough, still comes with an explicit lyrics tag printed onto the cover.

Baffled by this ridiculous bullshit, I put Cocktails in next to make sure that wasn’t edited also.  Well, knowing Too Short, I didn’t have to wait long to find out whether the album was complete with excessive vulgarity.

You know what the opening lines of the first song are?

“Ain’t nothin’ like pimpin’, just let it roll/Motha’ fuckin’ shit, god-damn ass ho/Ain’t nothin’ like pimpin’, just don’t quit/Motha’ fuck you, damn shit-head bitch.”

Ahh, now that’s the terribly ignorant misogyny my soul craves.  In all seriousness, though, Too Short is dope.

Short Dog for President.

Bitch.