Tuesday, April 10, 2007

WTH Wednesday: I Don't Have an Umbrella Big Enough for Fat Joe.

Oh Fat Joe. I have nothing but love for you. I leaned back with the Terror Squad. I got it poppin'. And I felt that we thugged together pretty righteously. But Joey Crack, we need to sit down, put the champagne away, and have a heart to heart on what the hell it means when you want to make it rain on 'em hoes.

There I was, at my local Ralphs, picking out green beans, when this came blaring over the speakers:

Yeah I'm in this business of terror
Got a handful of stacks, better grab an umbrella
I make it rain, (I make it rain)
I'm in this business of terror
Got a handful of stacks, better grab an umbrella
I make it rain, (I make it rain)
I make it rain on them hoes I make it rain,(I make it rain)
I make it rain on them hoes I make it rain,(I make it rain)
I make it rain on them hoes I make it rain(I make it rain)
I make it rain on them hoes...

First of all, if you are Fat Joe, what exactly constitutes as "business of terror"? I think you're off the streets, and if you're hanging with a guy who goes by the name of Lil Wayne and you totally did a cameo in JLo's music video like 20 bazillion years ago, the only business that you could possibly terrorize is at Herm├Ęs where they apparently are still quite prejudiced against the non-French (ask Oprah).

And secondly, if you have a handful of stacks of money and were about to throw it at me, wouldn't it be more considerate to tell me to grab the nearest receptacle instead of an umbrella so I could share in your wealth? Or are you under the impression that I'm as rich as you, Fat Joe? In which case, no, I'm not, and I'll take whatever cash that is making it difficult for you to hoof it up and down a stage.

Finally, if you are giving gobs and gobs of cash to hoes, I don't know if I'd be telling the world about that. You're pretty much letting everyone know that you have to pay women to sleep with you, and if that's really the case--though I doubt it because according to a recent poll, women will happily trade in extra poundage if it comes with an equally fat bank account--but if that really is the case, you best keep that bit of knowledge locked up and the key thrown away.

Fat Joe, I tell you these things out of the deepest respect. You're a somewhat talented guy, you seem quite nice aside from the 50 Cent debacle (hell, you did a collaboration with Ja Rule. Ja fucking Rule. AFTER his stupid Grease-themed music video. I think that qualifies as beyond nice. That's pitiful nice), and you even overcame your fear of flying. So: if the rumors are true about you having ghostwriters who write all your lyrics, then you need to fire them immediately.

PS. I was going to dedicate this week to Nelly Furtado, but someone told me that dissing Canadians twice in a row for poor lyric writing would make it seem like I have a grudge against Canadians. I don't (although if your name is Kristin and you happen to be related to me and live in Canada, then I've hated you since the 3rd grade when you ran off with little Billy Carmichael which only a hoe would do. A hoe, like the kind Fat Joe and his ghostwriters would have made rain on 'em).

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