“yo my balls on crack/ and yo mama album on crack”

it’s approximately two months old, which in internet time qualifies it for carbon dating, but i cannot stop listening to Qualo’s Black Sheep-style sendup of crack rap, entitled “Crack,” over the beat for Mobb Deep’s “Put Em in their Place.” They get away with such cleverness. Where other rappers might preach, they deploy deep, withering sarcasm.
Mobb Deep were one of Summer Jam‘s least compelling performances, at least after they finished “Shook Ones p2” and launched into “Have a Party.” The transition from the former song to the latter was a truly perfect illustration of a group selling out. But then, this is the first year they were asked to Summer Jam, thanks to cliquing up w/G Unit. That’s the way – that’s the way- that’s the way that shit goes goes, as Ms. Jackson sorta said.
Ms. Jackson and Ms. Carey, my two idols por vida, cameo’d onstage at summer jam per Jermaine Dupri, just to wave and cosign Dem Franchise Boyz, and both looked like lovely fawns: gorgeous, thoroughly mascara’d and noticably shook.
As a former dance teacher and choreographer, and not in a “so you think you can dance” way neither, I feel qualified to observe that the snap dance, aka the Poole Palace, which overtook the entire Summer Jam audience, is the freshest dance move ever… I will only do the snap dance from now on. (Not to be confused with “Snap!” or the “bend and snap.”)
Chris Brown came out wearing a creepy phantom of the opera mask to “Tell Me When to Go” and was hyphy as fuck. Better popper than singer, even? Better dancer than Usher, for sure.
Summer Jam was held in Giants Stadium and 50,000 people attended. That is roughly eight less bodies than the population of the town in which I grew up. All snapping. En masse.