Prancehall: August 2005

Wednesday

I deal with views and opinions/ Grew up on a reggae band called Abyssinians.

I was watching a programme on telly last night and, without wanting to bore you with details, it was claimed that the longer your ring finger in relation to your index finger, the more fertile you are. That doesn't look like good news for poor old Tinchy Stryder, does it? He's only young yet anyway. Maybe it'll grow.

Heroin chic. OK, she was a crack addict, but you get the point. If you don't, the point is: DON'T SMOKE THE ROCK.

The above picture, the result of eight years of crack addiction, is being used in an ad campaign to encourage kids to stay off "the drugs". Rather interestingly, I think there's a bit of an improvement in the woman's appearance from pictures 1-3. Her skin is clearer, she's lost the bags under her eyes... I'd say the crack has taken ten years off her. That's really not good for the overall message, is it? What that picture's saying is, smoke crack for a couple of years and it'll probably improve your looks. I'm almost getting an urge to light up my crack pipe now. Pete Doherty, all is forgiven.

"DON'T SMOKE THE ROCK" – JME could use that as the title to one his new tracks as he continues his (rather dull) quest into the realms of conscious grime.

*** BONUS ***
MP3: Phoenix - If I Ever Feel Better (Todd Edwards Remix)

Tuesday

Cos I'm a evil guy, if you see me you might get the evil eye...

"Prancehall you're lacking originality you runt. Forget your teenage disses it's time to roll with the elders...

So now you're going to talk about sexual infection?
The only way you'll get STDs is by immaculate conception
And don't call out my gran because she'll be your next date
Despite the fact she died in 1998
You cocksucker, don't know if you're cumming or blowing
So much spunk on your fro that it looks like it's snowing
Tell your mum to shampoo you, you doodoo you
You're supposed to be battling, all I can hear is 'boo hoo hoo'
Dunderhead, you underfed, get some cakes down your neck
You need to fatten up, just like your stank lyrical drek
You're skinny, you're mini, your delivery's tinny
You need to drop the mic and put on a pinny
And scrub my floors, cos that's the only way you're getting down
I'm ripping you again and I'm still in my dressing gown
So step up again if you think you can blast hot
And don't take a whole day to write it, like the last lot".

AND PEOPLE R GETTIN ANGRY. I'VE STAYED CALM (AND BLAZED FAST).

Fiddy came with little bars like all she had was children's lunchbox chocolates from variety family packs.

Now check out strictly factory-size Cadbury's bars:

I got props from Jammer for calling man Jamble.
I roll with Ruff Sqwad, Slew Dem & Roll Deep cos they're my famble.
On a regs I rep my manor with my cuzzy Skeptamble.
So if you see me on road, you best run, you best scramble.

Look on the RWD and Rinse forums and you'll see who won the clash.
I don't need God on my side to draw bare gash.
I just need to put on my lucky boxers when I go out on the lash.
But I steer clear of girls like you cos I don't wanna end up with a rash.

A blowjob for some gossip and full sex for a couple of snaps.
That's what you give to any MC if he's helpful and he yaps.
Bruza spreads your legs apart and puts his piece between your flaps.
Then he pulls it out when he's finished and squirts all over your baps.

From city to city, from town to town, you give head.
I heard you gave JME a hand job for a go on his 'ped.
You're air on the roads, just go back to bed.
This clash is over. Chantelle Fiddy fi dead.

Thursday

Cos I'm neckle, make a MC quick time sssseckleeeeee

Yeah, hold tight Chantelle Fiddy and your waste bars. You're a rave MC. I'm an ARTIST. This ain't about comedy bars anymore. This is serious.

ROUND 2:

My lyrics are intelligent like brehs with three or more GCSEs.
Your gran is a pitbull and the bitch has got fleas.
I wouldn't wanna press you cos you've got bare STDs.
I rep the up and coming while you nibble on Kano's dick cheese.

My lyrics are so cutting, like a blade they'll wet up your belly.
You need to wash out your vag with a douche bag cos it's getting kinda smelly.
I like dem gyal wit the big behind, but yours is like jelly.
You wish you were 13 again so you could get sex from R Kelly.

Mantelle, you get no love, you get air darlin'.
You're still shallow in the game, but i'm far in.
You're into Barbie dolls, I'm into barrin'.
So don't be callin' out my mum or you'll get gassed like Sarin.

Think you're big cos u know Skepta's cousin?
You smell like shit – flies round you are buzzin'.
You've got one rhyme, I've got 12 dozen.
So put that dick back in your mouth and carry on guzzlin'.

Tuesday

Got more bars than the bloody West End

The war is on.

Chantelle Fiddy has written some bars for me.

"C Fiddy - I make like P Diddy and drop the first syllable
So call me Fiddy - like my man Cent I'm coming unkillable
I roll with Kemal but you know I max well
My crazy busty style makes all man jacks swell
When I'm on the mic it's Peter Kay style - top bombin'
Dropping nuclear snaps that I just have to throw your mom in
I'm not saying she's cracked out - the bitch is straight strung
And what's worse, of all your family, she's the best hung"

Lets keep this strictly lyrical Lady Chantelle. Why call out my mum?

Anyway, check this out:

Lumpenproletariat, swag, not off the heezy.
Call yourself an expert on grime, but have you even heard of MC Beezy?
You say your favourite MC is Kano, but we all know it's Young Jeezy.
You lie in bed at night thinking about me – and that's fo' sheezy.

I wear an Avirex jacket, you wear some skimpy garms.
Nobody's interested in your writing, they just wanna see your "charms".
If your blog ended tomorrow, nobody would have any qualms.
Your 'career' is over, you best apply to Channel 5's 'The Farm'

If you can't see I'm big, your head's in the sand.
Magazines wanna sign me for 500 grand.
Set me up as a global brand.
I get links to my blog from Stratford to Thailand.

You ain't big in this blogging game, you're small.
Grammatically, you're only one foot tall.
Try step to me, you'll fall.
I better stop now and let you bawl.

I'm on people's tongues like tastebuds and my lyrics blow up riddims like thugs...get in my way u get laid down like rugs

Hold tight nephews, nieces, cousins and bredrins. We've got a very special guest touching down today. Hang tight my sistren Andrea Dworkin. Family tree.

Gyals gonna be laying down some bars about the rise of feminism in grime. Take it away sister...

Arguably feminism in grime is about nothing but personalities; grandiose, petty, quarrelsome, deeply ridden by feelings of inferiority and, yes, hysterical. Female advancement in grime is really the story of mans wanting to link bare gash. Women succeeded because the time was right for gyals to succeed. Everything else is sheer puffery and self-aggrandizement. Ya get me?

Lady fury
Lady Fury is a pagan figure with a bent toward lesbian imagery. The mythical character who many feminists celebrate as the first wife and equal of Wiley. An unwed mother who cranked out the kiddies and then went on a merking spree. Transforming herself from a shotter on road to a shotter on the mic.

Lady Sovereign
To Lady Sov's admirers, she is a hot-rod combination of martyr and holy warrior, a survivor of the endz, who dared to speak truth to power. To her critics, she is a raging harpy who rose up out of nowhere, intent on taking away their bills and (some of the male ones vaguely suspected) their skengs.

(Lady Sovereign on the left)

MP3: Dolly Parton - 9 to 5

On her latest joint, '9 to 5', Sovereign sagaciously discusses the integral tensions between modern feminism and clashing on the mic.

Unfortunately, the legions of female listeners who are likely to pick it up will get the muddled tale of a lackluster heroine, whose insights into the plight of working women suffer in comparison to, say, Dolly Parton's 24-year-old pop song "9 to 5." Girl's experiences in what seems to be late 1990s community centres are simultaneously reductive and overblown, unrealistic and misogynistic, politically charged and hopelessly passe. And rather dangerously, Sov's litany of complaints ("I ain't no early birdie") will serve only to undermine the veracity of more nuanced and very real claims about things that actually tend to go badly for working women.

No Lay
No Lay is a gifted, galvanizing communicator; a pioneer of a particular and pernicious type of rhetoric, one currently being used much more effectively by shotters and big mic men. When gyal sprays on the mic, inspiration flows forth from her like milk from the supple breast of a supine siamese cat ("nah, we don't wanna clash, that's long cos we heard your tracks and you sound swaggish").

Sunday

Merking, merking; that's what we're into. We merk in threes, we merk in twos

Just a coupla quick ones...

I went to the Vice Magazine grime party last night (hold tight Daniel, hold tight Alex, hold tight Paul b. Davis & erm...that other guy).

BIG! BIG! BIG!

Trust me nephews (and nieces) this was the biggest rave I've touched down to in a long time. Imagine Eskimo Dance down at your local pub with more people packed on the tiny stage than in the crowd! Slew Dem Crew (with youngers), Fire Camp, Ruff Sqwad, Skepta, Jammer & Ears all squeezed into the cramped room to give a scene which made sidewinder look like afternoon tea 'round yer gran's house! Brap, indeed.

We turned up quite early and it was pretty much just us and Slew Dem youngers in the venue (and a coupla wastemen who quickly left). We sat around at the bar as Slew Dem downed glasses of Coca Cola in the corner of the stage.

After a warm up set from spooky DJ, Logan Sama took to the decks as Kraze from younger Slew Dem (who was sporting a Will Smith circa-fresh-prince-style afro) dropped bars like a chihuahua on speed. Jamble, Skepta, Ears and some more of Slew Dem then swaggered onto the stage as the sweat dripped from the ceiling. Ears, Chronik and various Slew Dem members dropped their best known lyrics to a big response from the crowd.

Tha Bizzle and Fire Camp then forced their way on stage, which now held more people than were in the crowd. Lethal spat "pow" and the "air on the roads" bars, but he still couldn't get a reload. Skepta then clashed another Fire Camp member, but merked him with "what d'ya mean, what d'ya mean you fool, go on then, go on then, draw for the tool" getting the biggest cheer of the night. Fumin grabbed the mic, but, hilariously, was shoved off stage before he can even finsih his bars. Jamble then took the mic and got about 3 reloads with his "murkle man" lyrics as the crowd roared along.

I was gonna get on stage and spit my war bars for Logan, but I was afraid Chronik from Slew Dem might pick me up and throw me out the window. Maybe next time...

Ruff Sqwad were on at the end of the night and performed to the 20 or more people remaining after the rest of the MCs had left. Tinchy & Fuda Guy got the biggest crowd acknowledgment as Ruff Sqwad reeled off bars over a slew of their own productions. We heckled requests for 'uptown girl' after they had finished the night with 5 minutes of spitting accapella stylee, but to no avail. For the best, I guess.

When it was all over, we skipped merrily, spinning and clicking our heels in the air as we travelled home on road. Not really. Instead, we rolled (not literally) down the stairs with our hoods up and screw faced any man that tried to watch face. Then, outside we met Ears (my new best friend) and he told us how Skepta and Knowledge (fire camp) had gone to sort some stuff out. Knowledge was fumin (...) so much that he couldn't even touch mic inside the venue. Apparently, Knowledge was told Skepta had said some stuff about his mum on a new track with Jammer, but he actually hadn't, but Knowledge didn't know this, so Knowledge was still fumin (huh...) as you might expect, when in fact, it was only a little hype ting, so, in the end, it was blessed, innit.

I would post the mp3 of the Jammer and Skepta track, but I'm sure it's on another blog somewhere. And anyway, you guys probably already have it.

More mans sending for me too:

"(Skepta) had a bar about making money like Diddy blah blah blah Chantelle Fiddy. Prancer has to raise his profile he didn't get a single bar. I told him he has to start clashing to make a name on the road. I wanted him to battle Logan and settle his beef but nothing happened. Prancer is air on the road".

YOU WHAT!?!?!?!?!?

WHY CALL OUT A BROTHER'S NAME!?!?!??!

Listen, yeah, I've already merked Logan and I sent for Chantelle Fiddy, but she wouldn't even show face, so hold your gums rudeboy.

Anyway, here's a taster of my war bars for Fiddy:

Lumpenproletariat, swag, not off the heezy.
Call yourself an expert on grime, but have you even heard of MC Beezy?

I'm gonna cut some dubs next week, so you'll have to wait for those to find out the rest of my bars. Lock off.

Daniel (7 year glitch) on the countdown riddim: "One of the best worst tracks ever in garage. There have been a few and this one doesn't even have the 'would everybody stop getting shot' sample".

So true...

I would post the video or something, but obviously you guys all have it. Yeah, I do read the comments...

Saturday

me dad is fumin, not fumin as in fumin from boundary crew, but fumin mad...

I reckon if me mum goes eskimo dance and proper does breakdancing and shit, this scene will blow.

Do your parents and friends feel grime?

MP3: Maximum, Syer, Wiley, Skepta & Jammer on Rinse FM

"Come meet the murkle. I'll put my cylinder into your circle".

If there's a best newcomer award at Sidewinder this year, Jammer has to win it. It's crazy how much he's improved. His new bars are off the coat hook!!!

"J babe, i gotta bounce, my girl just text me"
"Cool my yout', dat was sweet, but mek sure yuh kip tings on the DL"
"Lata"

MP3: The Vengaboys - Routine Check - Roll Deep Remix

Phil & Grant only come in on the chorus. Thank God.

VIDEO: Bear Man - Drinking Bear

Men who like to drink bears.

Is that like drinking from the furry cup? (hehe...I maked a joke...)

MP3: Vybz Kartel - Weed (Indian Summer Ridim)

You don't here those jamaican lads talkin shit like "it's too real in my endz". Oh no. They just stick to tried and tested themes of: weed, jah, murdering gay people, jah and weed...the good things.

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Coming soon: The Riko 'Wish You Were Here' holiday special. Hold tight for that my bread bins...it's gonna be big.

Also, congratulations to Riko who was voted the MC with the best yardie flow in my recent poll, just edging out Lady Sovereign, who finished a close second.

I take no chances and leg it, jumping cars, fences and hedges

MP3: Ruff Sqwad / Roll Deep - Nothing

This should be amazing, but it's not. The intro leads you to think you could be listening to the new 'underground'(Tinchy Stryder). Then, in comes some waste trumpet riff and by the finish, they've repeated "it's nuffin" about 300 times and you've got Groove Armada's "superstylin" stuck in your head. Buy it!

Poplife blog is back. Hold tight Derek.

MP3: Tinchy Stryder feat Wiley - Uptown Girl

We won't say anything.

MP3: Trina feat Ludacris - B R Right

Yes'day, I was walkin' through the hood an' I seen somethin'...an' it hurt me.

MP3: T.O.K. - Wap dem and done (Famine Riddim)

The new T.O.K. album is shit. This one obviously isn't on the album.

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A Day Without Prancehall is Like a Day Without Sunshine.