Sunday, August 12, 2007


Dear Brad Spieser,

Please do everyone a favor and stick with what you know. Namely Ohio State football, faggotry, Ohio State football and good looking former Ohio State QB's. Please leave the hip-hop commentary to those who aren't "dumber than Chainsaw or Dave" when it comes to matters concerning the aforementioned musical genre.

Cameron J. Carey

In Brad's last post, he made the outlandish claim that "Feel Me Flow" was Naughty By Nature's best song. He is a dope. Naughty By Nature is one of the most underrated musical acts of the last 20 years, but because they achieved such crossover success with many of their singles, it seems like they are somewhat dismissed by many casual fans as a pop act of sorts. Anyone who thinks so is dead wrong. Their self titled debut album is was one of the best albums of the 90's.

Don't get it twisted. "Feel Me Flow" still holds up as one of the best summer joints of all-time. It just isn't one of Naughty By Nature's best songs. Here are two singles (off the top of my head) that are better.


This is hands down their best song. (It might actually be the best song ever recorded.) This is not up for debate. The song is flawless. Anyone who disagrees will catch a smack.


This is a story about a drifter
Who waited for the worst while the best live 'cross town
Who never planned on having someday
Why me huh?!

Some get a little and some get none
Some catch a bad one and some leave the job half done
I was one who never had and always mad
Never knew my dad motherfuck the fag
Well anyway I did pick up lift and click up
See many stick ups 'cos niggas had the trigger hick-ups
I couldn't get a job, nappy hair was not allowed
My mother couldn't afford us all, she had to throw me out
I walked the strip, with just a clip, who wanna hit
Thank God I'm quick, I had to eat this money as good as spent
A 'do in braids, I wasn't paid enough
I kept 'em long 'cause I couldn't afford a hair-cut
I got laughed at, I got jumped, I got dissed
I got upset, I got a tick and a banana clip
With down the flow, don't let them any dealin' tackhead
A celebate rope, so a lotta good it woulda did
Or done, if not bad luck I would have none
Why did I have to live the life of such a bad one
Why when I was a kid and played I was the sad one
And always wanted to live like this or that one


A ghetto bastard, born next to the projects
Livin' in the slums with bums I said now why Treach
Do I have to be like this, mama said I'm priceless
So I am, I'm worthless, starvin', that's just what being nice gets
Sometimes I wish I could afford a pistol then though
To stop the hell, I woulda ended things a while ago
I ain't have jack, but a black hat and knap-sack
War scars, stolen cars and a blackjack
Drop that, and now you want me to rap and give
Say something positive, well positive ain't where I live
I live right around the corner from west hell
Two blocks from south shit, and once in a jail cell
The sun never shine on my side of the street see
And only once or twice a week I would speak
I walked alone, my state of mind was home sweet home
I couldn't keep a girl, they wanted kids and cars with chrome
Some life, if you ain't wearin' gold, your style was old
And you got more juice and dope for every bottle sold
Hell no, I say there's gotta be a better way
But hey, never gamble in a game that you can't play
I'm gonna flaunt it, gonna know when, know when and not now
How will I do it, how will I make it, I won't, that's how
Why me huh


My third year to adulthood, still a knucklehead
I'm better off dead, huh, that's what my neighbor said
I don't do jack but fightin' lightin' up the streets at night
Playing hide-and-seek with a machete, sets of Freddie's spikes
Some say I'm all in all, nothing but a dog now
I answer that with a fuck you and a bow-wow
'Cause I done been through more shit within the last week
Than the fly flowin' in doo-doo on a concrete
I've been a dead beat, dead to the world and dead wrong
Since I was born, that's my life, oh you don't know this song
So don't say jack, and please don't say you understand
All that man-to-man talk can walk, damn
If you ain't live it, you couldn't feel, so fill it skillet
All that talk about it won't help it out, now will it
In Illtown, feel like you stuck up, propped, and shot
Don't worry, he got hit by a flurry and this punk ass dropped
But I'm the one who has been labaled as an outcast
They teach in school some of the misfits I will outlast
But that's cool, with the fool smack 'im backwards
That's what you get when you're fuckin' with the ghetto bastard

If you ain't never been to the ghetto
Don't ever come to the ghetto
'Cause you wouldn't understand the ghetto
So stay the fuck out of the ghetto
Why me, Why me


How can you go wrong with the song that DJ GQ cuts up as the credits roll at the end of "Juice" ? It was Tupac's best performance for god's sake!


Hey, you could smoke a spliff with a cliff
But there's still no mountain hiiiigh enough, or wide enough to touch
The naughty nappy nasty nigga the nasty trashy hoe happy pappy
That's Happi to be Nappi
Me and Vin rock when spots hit flocks
and groups and troops with Timbo boots and jail suits
That's how I'm rollin my hair-do don't
Win I will I got wantin competition ain't dope
Beat ya break ya broke ya smoke ya take ya
Send you to your little group on mute, sooner or later
When wanna flip, tell em full semi half with a dip
And all that other Ringling Brothers shit
Sporty naughty hi bye greater than nature while I
shin slam the flim flim and then jam
You can run but you can't hide, you can't go far
No matter where you go, there you are

[Chorus: x2]

We gonna BREAK, we gonna BASH
We gonna ROLL, we gonna SMASH

[Verse Two: Treach, Vinnie]

Here we go yo
Hit a nigga kill a nigga will come back
See a sucker stretch a sucker guard your naps
Cussin wasn't nothin til a black man rapped
See a forty suck a forty guess who's back

You're chillin with a titty fillin villian
Steppin to the puny puddy punks catchin feelings
I hit so many guts, call me gutter, I'm the bread and butter
punk motherfucker I'll cut up, workin from the gut up
Brand new steady, heavy as a Chevy
Ready for the piddy peddy, I'm Friddie Freddie
Place your bet on a vet, the three man threat
What you see is what you get


[Verse Three: Treach]

Comin round your corner with my uptown bunch
I bet your bottom dollar that you're bottom buck chumps
Give it up, it's a juice thing I'm steppin for the rep and
wreckin all the rest and, weapon testin on who's steppin
Ain't no bluff for the niggy nuff, for the rugged ruff stuff
nigga if you're tough knuckle up
I'll cut your ass like class, then blast you by the trash
After I laugh then I'll dash
You can't handle the scandal of an uptown vandal
Shootin up your toes makin sandals
Somebody told me that you owe me, but can't nobody hold me
I do my dirt all by my lonely

I never expected to be making such a detailed post about a rap group that peaked well over a decade ago, but there are some things that you just can't let slide. This was one of them. My most sincere apologies (not really) to anyone who I just bored to tears (pretty much everyone).

Cam Carey (8/12/07)