Dollars Make Sense.

Miss Me.

Posted in music. by Jason Mekkam on August 20, 2010

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“Man I swear my bitches do it till they suck the brown off”

I still think that’s nasty.

Miss Me feat. Lil Wayne by Drake

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You Get No Beats: Thank Me Later.

Posted in reviews. by Jason Mekkam on June 19, 2010

You’re in for a treat!

Welcome to the inaugural edition of You Get No Beats. This is gonna be much fun. As you most def know, Drake dropped his much much anticipated album Thank Me Later a couple days ago. Although let’s be real. You and I both know you bootlegged that shit couple week’s back when it leaked. Shame shame. Now some poor black/Jewish/Canadian/former teen actor/rapper/singer/Young Money Millionaire is gonna go without supper tonight cuz you stole from him. Damn near took the spoon right up out his mouth. All cuz you just had to get yo fix a little early. Tisk to the mother lovin’ tisk.

But it’s aight. We like familia. Blood don’t turn on blood. Your secret is safe with me.

I think most album reviews are tired. And pretentious. I’m just sayin. At the end of the say who really cares? I mean who gives anyone the right to claim their word is bond and place certain albums on peddlestool while banishing others to eternal damnation. Nonsense I say. So why not switch things up a bit you dig? You Get No Beats is kinda sorta like an album review, but more like game. Here’s how we play: rather than me go thru the album and bullshit you on how the beat on this track could use less snare or how Drizzy could have came harder on that track, I’mma instead go through each song and pick out a line that resonates. For whatever reason. Good. Bad. It don’t matter. Then based solely on that line I’m gonna form an entire opinion of said song. Fair? Nah. Logical? Prally not. Fun? Like my favorite former governor of Alaska say, “You Betcha.”

At the end, I’ll wrap it up with a verdict. Either TML gets beats or no beats.

Beats = The album is dope. Get to coppin with the quickness.

Or..

No Beats = Shit is gar gar. Don’t even bother bootleggin off the internets. Save yo gigabytes.

No dispensing of ratings, stars, or arbitrary decimal points here (yes, shots fired at you Pitchfork). We keeping everything real Siskel & Ebert up in this bitch. Either we likes or we dislikes.

Simplicty at its finest.

So yall got it? Coolio. Let’s get started. And buckle up.

Cuz now I’m bout to really go off..

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