“Allow me to reintroduce myself, my name is Hov! H-to-the-O-V! I used to move ‘snowflakes’ by the O-Z! I guess even back then you could call me, CEO of the R-O-C, Hov! Fresh out the frying pan, into the fire! I be the, music biz’s number-one supplier! ‘Flier’ than a piece of paper bearing my name! I got the hottest chick in the game, wearing my chain!” Seemingly, God’s “gifted” guys and gals sometimes see themselves as he himself—or she himself. Or is it she herself? Okay, so, today, I guess I gotta give “God” and its faithful followers a small show of my colossal consciousness—as if an “all-seeing, all-knowing, almighty God” is ever excluded from anything at all. At this point, if you don’t believe that big-brained Beau and his blog are the best thing since sliced bread to those that enjoy extracurricular education, you’re stupid. And if “Jigga” Jay-Z, “Hov” himself, in real life, isn’t reading this right now, it’s because I haven’t published the post yet! And I think I have the perfect point to prove for this particular post, as clarity commonly clears confusion. I’d bet big bucks, even as a “brokie,” that “Big Pimpin’” may miss many of the meaningful messages in his “own” music. Hip hop’s most highest honored “hero” definitely derived “Hov,” one of his “own” many man-made monikers, from the Hebrew Bible’s biggest badass, “Jehovah.” If you’ve been living under a rock and somehow don’t know, deliberately delivering debilitating, death-dishing drugs like cocaine and “crack rock” to their “brothers and sisters in Christ” is Father-fearing nonsensical niggas’ go-to gig when life be life-ing. So, serving straight poison to poor people in pain when poorness plagues your own people is a sufficient survival strategy, even if people perish from the poison and the sick servers successfully serve strict sentences or succumb to the streets almost always? So, going from struggling to survive without much means to striving for survival with means made through others’ struggles is some God shit, Shawn? Let me breakdown that bite from “The Black Album” quite quickly. Obviously, “the music biz’s” main man “moving snowflakes” by the ounce is a drug delivery reference, from “Hov’s” perspective. And cockily calling himself “CEO of the R-O-C” refers to Jay’s job as the head honcho of “Roc-A-Fella Records,” which he founded with a friend-turned-foe, Dame Dash—as well as the regular, repetitive reference to him delivering drugs to anxious addicts as a “brick”-busting, deliverance-demolishing, life-leeching, Lucifer-loving, sack-slinging “business, man.” Yes, nonsensical nigga, I am! I’m your karma incarnate. But getting back to the bars, if Shawn’s slickly suggesting that he’s God, which is overtly obvious, what would those lyrics mean if God devilishly delivered them himself? Well, CEOs create, a little like God, “the Creator,” and Earth is “the third rock” from the Sun—which “the Creator” created. So, God created Earth, and as Earth’s “CEO,” winter winds and snow storms force flurries to fly, right? Ok, let’s finish it. Rappers regularly, repetitively refer to making music as “cooking” in studio sessions, and in hip hop culture, “hot” or “fire” regularly, repetitively refers to something satisfying or really good. So, going from “the frying pan” to “the fire,” from Jay’s perspective, metaphorically means that the music is gracefully going from being made to being served hot in Hell—on Earth. And in that case, God’s perspective would be the same. But here’s where things get a tad bit tricky, because if God is indubitably inside every everyday Earthling, being “the music biz’s number-one supplier,” from God’s perspective, slickly suggests that God is all of the music business—all blatantly blasphemous rappers. Moving forward, of course, to be “fly” is to be a flashy, flamboyant fellow, and a “flier” is a promotional piece of paper that could bear blatantly blasphemous rappers’ names. But from God’s perspective, he can factually fly. Then, there’s “the hottest chick in the game,” the beautiful bride Beyoncé, who would wear her husband’s nice necklace as a shining symbol of her favoring faithfulness and fidelity. But from God’s perspective, if he’s indubitably inside every everyday Earthling, Beyoncé would be as much a slave to God’s will as her dear drug-dealing baby-daddy, and slavery is synonymous with chains. And as for the beautiful bride Beyoncé being “hot,” if Hell is here, and the Devil is “God,” and highly-weird Hollywood is Satan’s showcase, and Beyoncé is the “Queen B” of Hollywood… y’all get it, right? Sack-slinging Shawn, what if that ain’t even you, big bruh? Diverging slightly, it gets way worse! “Blast your ass, hit you with a di-rect blow! BEAU! Comin’ through like ‘G.I. Joe!’ ‘Star Wars,’ movin’ ill like ‘Han Solo!’ Make you bounce around like you was calypso! Always shine ‘cause I got the HIGH-PRO glow!” But sack-slinging Shawn, why does it sound like all you blatantly blasphemous bastards think you’re me—from my holy and never humble perspective? By the way, Jason Terrence Phillips, when he said “you’ll see the light,” he meant me! I hope this clarity cleared confusion for a few fake-ass famous folks, but if it didn’t, it’s because my consciousness level is closer to Christ’s than anyone else’s on this perishable planet. For the record, these pulse-pounding posts publish every other day at midnight, stay tuned! Because soon…
Omniscience