Fanboy Friday: Yeezy Season

This Sunday I will be going to see Kendrick Lamar and Kanye West.  There is a 99% chance I will die this weekend from excitement and pent up anticipation.  Regardless I will attempt to chronicle my weekend without spontaneously combusting.  In the meantime here is a list of my six favourite Kanye verses in no particular order.  Why six?  Because this list could have easily been thirty.  Enjoy and see you next week.  Probably.

All Falls Down Verse Two

Man I promise, I’m so self-conscious
That’s why you always see me with at least one of my watches
Rollies and Pasha’s done drove me crazy
I can’t even pronounce nothing, pass that ver-say-see
Then I spent four hundred bucks on this
Just to be like, nigga you ain’t up on this
And I can’t even go to the grocery store
Without some Ones that’s clean and a shirt with a team
It seems we living the American dream
But the people highest up got the lowest self-esteem
The prettiest people do the ugliest things
For the road to riches and diamond rings
We shine because they hate us, floss cause they degrade us
We trying to buy back our 40 acres
And for that paper, look how low we a stoop
Even if you in a Benz, you still a nigga in a coupe

Run This Town

It’s crazy how you can go from being Joe Blow
To everybody on your dick…no homo
I bought my whole family whips; no Volvos
Next time I’m in church, please: no photos
Police escorts, everybody passports
This the life that everybody ask for
This the fast life, we are on a crash course
What you think I rap for to push a fuckin’ Rav 4?!
But I know that if I stay stunting
All these girls only gonna want one thing
I can spend my whole life goodwill hunting
Only good gonna come is it’s good when I’m cumming
She got an ass that’ll swallow up a G-string
And up top, ah, 2 bee stings
And I’m beasting off the Riesling
And my nigga just made it out the precinct
We give a damn about the drama that your dude bring
I’m just trying to change the color on your mood ring
Reebok, baby, you need to try some new things
Have you ever had shoes without shoe strings?
“What’s that, Ye?” “Baby, these heels”
“Is that a May-what?” “Baby, these wheels”
You trippin’ when you ain’t sippin’, have a refill
You feeling like you run it, huh? Now you know how we feel

Niggas in Paris

She said, “‘Ye, can we get married at the mall?”
I said, “Look, you need to crawl ‘fore you ball
Come and meet me in the bathroom stall
And show me why you deserve to have it all.”
(Ball so hard) That shit cray, ain’t it Jay? What she order, fish filet?
Your whip so cold – this old thing?
Act like you’ll ever be around mothafuckas like this again
Bougie girl, grab my hand, fuck that bitch she don’t wanna dance
Excuse my French but I’m in France, I’m just sayin’
Prince Williams ain’t do it right if you ask me
Cause I was him, I would have married Kate and Ashley
What’s Gucci, my nigga? What’s Louis, my killa?
What’s drugs, my dealer? What’s that jacket, Margiela?
Doctors say I’m the illest, cause I’m suffering from realness
Got my niggas in Paris and they going gorillas, huh

Gorgeous Verse 3

I need more drinks and less lights
And that American Apparel girl in just tights
She told the director she tryna get in a school
He said “take them glasses off and get in the pool”
It’s been a while since I watched the tube
Cause like a Crip set, I got way too many blues for any more bad news
I was looking at my resume feeling real fresh today
They rewrite history I don’t believe in yesterday
And what’s a black Beatle anyway, a fucking roach
I guess that’s why they got me sitting in fucking coach
My guy said I need a different approach
Cause people is looking at me like I’m sniffing coke
It’s not funny anymore, try different jokes
Tell ‘em hug and kiss my ass, x and o
Kiss the ring while they at it, do my thing while I got it
Play strings for the dramatic ending of that wack shit
Act like I ain’t had a belt in two classes
I ain’t got it I’m going after whoever who has it
I’m coming after whoever. Who has it?
You blowin’ up, that’s good, fantastic
That y’all, it’s like that y’all
I don’t really give a fuck about it at all
Cause the same people that tried to black ball me
Forgot about two things, my black balls

Can’t Tell Me Nothing Verse 1

I had a dream I could buy my way to heaven
When I woke, I spent that on a necklace
I told God I’d be back in a second
Man it’s so hard not to act reckless
To whom much is given, much is tested
Get arrested guess until he get the message
I feel the pressure, under more scrutiny
And what I do, act more stupidly
Bought more jewelry, more Louis V
My Momma couldn’t get through to me
The drama, people suing me
I’m on TV talking like it’s just you and me
I’m just saying how I feel man
I ain’t one of the Cosby’s, I ain’t go to Hillman
I guess the money should’ve changed him
I guess I should’ve forgot where I came from

Diamonds from Sierra Leone Verse 2

I was sick about awards, couldn’t nobody cure me
Only playa that got robbed but kept all his jewelry
Alicia Keys tried to talk some sense to them
30 minutes later seems there’s no convincing ’em
What more could you ask for? The international asshole
Who complains about what he is owed?
And throw a tantrum like he is 3 years old
You gotta love it though somebody still speaks from his soul
And wouldn’t change by the change, or the game, or the fame
When he came, in the game, he made his own lane
Now all I need is y’all to pronounce my name
It’s Kanye, but some of my plaques, they still say Kayne
Got family in the D, Kin-folk from Motown
Back in the Chi – them folks ain’t from Moe town
Life movin’ too fast I need to slow down
Girl ain’t give me no ass, ya need to go down
My father been said I need Jesus
So he took me to church and let the water wash over my caesar
The preacher said we need leaders
Right then my body got still like a paraplegic
You know who you call, you got a message, then leave it
The Roc stand tall and you would never believe it
Take your diamonds and throw ’em up like you bulimic
Yeah, the beat cold but the flow is anemic
After debris settles and the dust get swept off
Big K pick up where young Hov left off
Right when magazines wrote Kanye West off
I dropped my new shit sound, it like the best of
A&R’s lookin’ like, “Pssh, we messed up”
Grammy night, damn right, we got dressed up
Bottle after bottle till we got messed up
In the studio, with Really Doe, yeah, he next up
People askin’ me if I’m gon’ give my chain back
That’ll be the same day I give the game back
You know the next question dog: “Yo, where Dame at?”
This track the Indian dance to bring our reign back
“What’s up with you and Jay, man, are y’all ok man?”
They pray for the death of our dynasty like “Amen”
Right here stands a-man
With the power to make a diamond with his bare hands

It’s Like I Have ESPN or Something – Nicole

Irving is actually lying.

There is a 0% chance he will make it to next week. I don’t actually expect him to make it much past today.

He could literally burst, explode, combust, everything that has anything to do with blowing up, any time now.

Irving Chong (@Irving_Chong) and Nicole (@_nicoliooo) are co-creators of This is Why we Can’t Have Nice Things even though it doesn’t make sense why they’re friends.

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