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Slap-Boxing With Jesus

An Open Letter To Phonte

Now, it’s been a wild minute since I put one of these shits together (what year did the Lords Of The Underground come out?), so you’ll have to excuse me if this seems a tad on the rough side. Also, apologies are in order if my compatriot Meka Soul breaks from recording “Alter Egos: The Next Generation” with T.I.P., Black Ty and Brillyance Star and bullyfoots his way onto this post, but you know how that duke rolls sometimes. Anyways...

Dear Phonte Coleman,

As a resident columnist on this site, it was an honor to learn that a member of one of my current favorite crop of musicians would be joining our esteemed stable. I have been a fan of your group since the days of “Speed” and “Whatever You Say,” and was amused at your crew’s original website, which documented everyday yet hilarious scenarios such as your partner Big Pooh’s inability to stick at a job for longer than a month, and the super-low budget video for the aforementioned “Speed.”

When your team got signed to that major label, while I was enthralled at the fact you three would receive shine on a grander scale, I was also a bit worried because of the way they handle hip-hop acts. I mean, you guys didn’t have a pauseworthy moniker like Webbie, leather-so-soft baby hair like Sean Paul and weren’t running around like the ambiguously gay version of A Clockwork Orange a la Gnarls Barkley. Meanwhile, Apathy’s been waiting for ice cream to be made in Beelzebub’s lair before his shit can come out, while Lupe Fiasco has a seemingly larger issue to deal with than underwhelming sales. Cocaine is a helluva drug.

I guess it was ok though; I mean, if Cliffy could trick over a million people into buying his audio Frisbee, your label surely could have convinced the same people who do that suspect shit in Donwill’s last blog to buy an album with actual substance, right? That’s when things all started to go wrong. Those nappy-headed hoes at B.E.T. wouldn’t play your video until months after the album had actually came out, then your own tall Israeli had to kick the bucket. I find it funny now that the channel would try to package some shit sammiches with mayonnaise as if they weren’t feces burgers regardless, but I digress.

While I am somewhat distressed that a piece of your team’s trifecta departed, I am still anticipating your next release, especially since it is coming out on your original home label. However, when I found the track listing a few days ago, I was a bit disturbed at the third track’s guest star. While I am not questioning the motives of you, Pooh or anybody related to your upcoming project, I do have one teeny-tiny, simple request that comes from not only a fan, but a person who has bought not only your sophomore album, but the promotional shirt for it as well (which hilariously riled up my superiors when I wore it to work):

Please, for the love of God, Allah, Buddha and whatever multi-armed elephant deity Apu Nahasapeemapetilon worships, omit the verse of Lil Wayne on “Breakin’ My Heart.”

While I understand the connotations of bridging the gap between the mainstream and underground audiences by having a “rapper” of his stature appear on the song, showing Southern unity and your appreciation for the guy, I do not wish to listen to an overrated artist violate my eardrums while trying to keep up with you and Pooh’s rhymes, failing miserably in the process. While I do understand his immense popularity sometimes, I cannot stand for his overly simplistic, scatterbrained and dreary raps annihilating any and every hope of the song being better that it's going to be.

My aim here is to not defecate on your immense credibility as well as the respect and appreciation I hold for your entire team at all; it is just to let you know that I do not anticipate that particular song because of that guy popping up on it. Weasel F. Fraggle has always been that sharp, stabbing pain in my hip-hop heart, and if in fact you do leave him on there, I may have to learn Pro Tools just so I can delete that part of the song when it’s finally released.

A concerned fan,
N.

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