A Hip Hop Story

I had no idea that rap and hip hop culture

had gotten this bad.

Excuses.

That's what these rap niggas got today, man.

The brainwashed fan be like, but he gettin' money, though.

He gettin' money, though.

But let me ask you this, if a nigga was getting

paid for every kid he shot in the head,

would you praise him because he was getting money

and not give a fuck about the millions

of kids shot in the head?

Fuck no.

That's what the rap game is now, son.

Every time an ignorant rap song plays, millions of kids

lose brain cells, but they're making money.

Might as well shoot them niggas in the head yourself, B.

Wow.

How the fuck did we get here?

ROSCOE (VOICEOVER): Hip hop is in a huge disarray.

This angry rapper just opened my eyes to some real shit.

But before we get back to this conversation,

allow me to reintroduce myself.

Let me tell y'all little hip hop story,

story story, story

When you say you love me

It doesn't matter

It goes into my head as just chit chatter

You may think it's egotistical or just worry free

But would you say I take none of it seriously

And even if I did

I wouldn't tell you so

I'll let you pretend to read me

And then you know

That I hate when one attempts to analyze

Fact, I despise those that even try

To look into my eyes

To see what I am thinking

That dream is over

You gotta sink in

I tell all of you

Like I told all of them

What you say to me is still paper thin

Word

Get to them

I'm not the type of girl to try to play a man out

To take the money

And again, then break the hell out

No, that's not my strategy

Not the game I play

I admit I play a game

But it's not done that way

Truly, when I get involved

I give it my heart

I mean, my mama sold my body

I mean, every part

But if it doesn't work out

Yo, it just doesn't

It wasn't meant to be

You know, it just wasn't

So I treat all of you like I treat all of them

And what you say to me is still paper thin

In one ear and right out the other

Heard this mumbo jumbo

Bull-

Mother, I don't pay attention

I don't concentrate

You ain't got the bait that it takes to hook this

Ha

Life couldn't be better, you know.

I'm a fucking genius.

I'm in my golden years with the body of a 17-year-old,

if that 17-year-old loves to eat eclairs,

and vegan pizzas, and burgers.

You know what I'm saying?

I'm one of the pioneers of hip hop.

I own multiple corporations.

I even own my own black and white card.

It's like a credit card for poor people.

I own a fancy resort in Bali.

You got to come by.

And I built all of this, all from my love for music.

I love you

ROSCOE (VOICEOVER): All my life, I've been fascinated with music,

the artist, the clothes, the stage show,

the whole nine yards.

I don't believe

I thought I could become a singer one day.

I love you, girl

I love you, girl

And I'm going to change

And I'm going to change

I won't stay the same

Going to change

I love you, baby

I love you, girl

Snap your fingers, baby.

And I'm going to change

Roscoe, turn off that damn television, boy.

Ain't no God in that music.

Only thing changing around here is this channel.

Girl

And I'm--

Son, God is testing you.

He wants to see what path you're going to choose.

Choose you this day for whom you shall follow.

Thus saith the Lord.

Better choose right.

Otherwise, I'm going to choose to put my foot up your ass.

Thus saith your daddy.

Yes, father.

You ain't got no talent anyway.

You ain't never going to make it in the music business, boy.

And I love you

I don't believe

I love you, girl

And I'm going to change

Shut up with all that damn singing.

You ain't never going to make it in the music industry.

Yes, ma'am.

I love you, baby.

I love you, baby

Honey, Roscoe needs his haircut tomorrow!

Girl

ROSCOE (VOICEOVER): I loved going to that barbershop.

There was always great music in the air

and colorful conversations about it.

All day in the shop, now we listen to the good stuff.

There's nothing like the down home blues.

See, it's not like the stuff y'all listen to today.

It's terrible.

Whoa, what the hell are you talking about, Big Greg?

What you mean, what I'm talking--

I'm talking about that so-called soul music y'all like,

The Temptations.

First of all, it is nothing tempting about them brothers,

OK?

They are all ugly.

They ain't tempted.

Ain't nobody tempted by them.

Those names are stupid anyway.

Sort of like Big Greg?

You know, the only thing big about you

is that thick-neck wife of yours.

Greg, can you bring me home a cup of gravy, baby?

Come on, man, get off Greg and his wife.

Ain't nothing wrong with your wife having a thick neck.

How else she going to keep that big ass head up?

Old bowling-ball-ass-neck woman.

Yo, yo, yo.

Oh my god.

Walrus back.

Shut up!

Leave my fat ass wife name out your mouth, OK?

She shouldn't even be in this discussion

because we're talking about music, not wives!

And speaking of music, blues.

That is the soundtrack of slavery.

Every single time I hear you playing that shit,

I feel like I'm running through the fields.

Come on, Harriet. Let's go.

Dogs at my feet.

Root, root, root, root, root.

I'm trying to make it to the abolitionist, but I can't.

Why?

Because you playing that bullshit.

Amen.

You know what?

Blues is called blues for a reason.

That's the color your balls get when

you try to have sex with your lady after playing that shit.

It's depressing.

Right, cause there's only one music we play in this shop,

and it is--

Soul--

Music.

Look, you gotta put some Otis, some Sam Cook,

Sam Cook, panties dropping.

I love you

Panties, poon.

Bush, poon.

My drawers just fell off, nigga.

If you want to talk about panty-dropping music,

I'll tell you who makes some panty-dropping music.

- Who? - Who?

Muddy Waters.

Oh, that's boxer music.

Put your boxers back on.

Pull em back up quick.

What about Smokey Robinson?

You know what Smokey sounds like?

He sounds like he sucked a helium balloon

while smoking a cigarette.

I think I love you

I think I want you

And he don't have no neck

I love you

But I like you

Oh, I need you

Yellow nigga, make up your mind.

Do you want her or not?