So, I guess this is the beginning of the end of hip hop culture as we’ve known it. Let’s get right to it! Any problem that I have with anyone doesn’t proceed from anything petty, puerile, or particularly pig-ignorant. For instance, my reprimanding of and removal from my relatives is a result of relentless rudeness, ridiculousness, and reprehensible actions that I’ve repeatedly addressed with them for most of my life and refuse to repeat at this point. And once again, I am alleging that the Feds have been working in conjunction with a congregation of celebrities—from Joy Reid to Joe Budden—to create chaos, confusion, and craziness in my life. So, as some of you’ve suggested, all this shit stems from simple misunderstandings, my overreacting to open criticism, and realistic reactions to only the revealing remarks that I’ve made public, huh? Nah! Click on the following names to see doppelgängers of a few female podcasters who read my blog. Be warned, some of the resemblance is only vaguely reminiscent. Here’s lookalikes of Demaris, Regi, Melyssa, and who I assume to be Symphony. Then, as for my relatives, here’s YouTubers who remind me of “Dale,” “Reek,” “Lexis,” and “Eve.” The Feds found those folks and forced their content onto my “for you” feed. Y’all, there’s over a dozen others, many who look like people from my past that I’ve never even thought of mentioning on this blog! Diverging slightly, click the word “receipt” to see the last time I bought tuna and crackers from Walmart. I won’t share the significance of that purchase, but it’s one of three times in the past two months that I’ve ordered what just so happens to be one of my favorite snacks. If you know, you know. This is the type of shit they’ve been doing to me the entire time I’ve been telling their quote “terrible tactics!” They’re taking details from my private life, feeding said information to some of your favorite podcasters and broadcasters, and making their mind games come across as casual conversations or scripted news. The synthesizing of scenarios—such as stealing my situations and saying they’re someone else’s—is a sly way to sneak diss me while no one else is suspecting of the slights and subliminal strikes that they’re sending toward me. But it gets deeper. Remember when I told y’all about my plantar fasciitis? Additionally, need I remind you all that I’m irreligious? By the way, I’m back beating my feet on the treadmill. But click the name “KevOnStage” to see a video that shows proud people praising their powerful lord and savior by shouting and stunting in dramatic displays of devotion, but pay close attention to the nigga limping around. Everybody’s happily hopping, hooting and hollering, but that one holy roller is hunched over and seems to be in need of a healing. Now, why didn’t you explain what was going on with him, Kevin? Nigga, you’re bald-headed for life, and God took your hair to spite your self-image! Yes, the whole “All Def” crew is (allegedly) in on it, too. Shout-out to Keysha E. While I’m at it, let me send another shout-out to “Pour Minds,” “Trash Tuesday,” “The Jokes On You,” “New Rory and Mal,” everybody over at “Back On Figg” and “Figgmunity World,” “Bag Fuel,” “My Expert Opinion,” and whomever else is (allegedly) complicit in the conspiracy against my sanity, self-confidence, security, and sound solitude. I don’t know exactly what’s the point of all this, but I’m one of the last people on Earth who needs a fuckin’ reality check! I don’t need y’all to simulate goofiness or gossip, negativity or nonsense, hatred or haughtiness, defamation or devilishness, as these are all things that I expound upon effortlessly and excessively. And I don’t even know how y’all can read my blog and mistakenly conclude that I have much in common with midget-minded motherfuckers. Like I said before, y’all don’t have the fuckin’ answers! And I’m not sorry that I’ll NEVER self-transition!
I’ll ask this question again, how easy do you think it would be to drive you crazy? Ain’t it the little shit, an accumulation of small annoyances, that has a tendency to make the diminutive devil on your shoulder sound off and send you soaring in Satan’s energy? If I’ve informed you religiously that I believe you’re godawful and demoniacal, but you insist on antagonizing me and implying that you’re innocent—insulting my fuckin’ intelligence—what would be my incentive for changing my mind? That doesn’t even make sense, right? Go find somebody who gives a fuck about y’all, because I ain’t him. Moving on, in nigga news, the internet is crediting Curtis Jackson for the cancellation of career criminal Big Meech’s comeback concert. Big Meech, whose government name is Demetrius Flenory, is an Atlanta street legend for his involvement in illicit enterprise BMF (Black Mafia Family), an outlawed organization that was once based in the Peach State’s capital city. Personally, I don’t believe “Fiddy” has the power to pull off the putting down of a public event that he wasn’t part of. Meech was indicted on federal charges, did a 20-year bid in the federal penitentiary, and any money-making moves he participates in for the rest of his life will be surveilled and scrutinized by the Feds. Chances are, “them people” pressed pause on the party. The po-po don’t play. “Nigga, street shit should stay in the street, so keep it on the low. But everybody who somebody already know.” 50, do you know how I know you’re stupid? It’s because if something’s “in the street,” everybody—whether they’re somebody or not—fuckin’ knows. Yes, 50 Cent knows who I am. Basically, I’m famous among famous people, but people are just people to me. Anyhoo, the older I get, the more I realize that niggas don’t grow up fast enough. There’s the youngsters who take on everyone’s responsibilities at an inappropriate age, and they manage those responsibilities as well as an inexperienced adult, which leads them to emotionally mature at a rapid rate and develop survival skills swiftly. Those are the type of people who actually “grow up” fast. Then, there’s the dumb and diabolical delinquents who dare to do all the most destructive deeds early—drug usage, unprotected sex, lawbreaking, etc.—and they never really “grow up.” Essentially, growing up is progressing in age and appropriately advancing physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. How many of you bitch-ass bitches think we have something in common? For the record, I’ve never been stupid, even though I’ve done some irresponsible things. The thing I hate about stupid-ass niggas the most is their common assertion or allusion that they never had a choice. Like Tsu Surf acting like he couldn’t have been in college playing basketball with Hitman Holla instead of stressing out his mom, on purpose. Or like any random regrettable robber rebuffing government assistance and patience and ripping away other people’s rewards for their resignation and resolution, on purpose. And to make it even more fucked up, y’all look at intelligent, intuitive, insightful, inspirational black men like me—who don’t want to be anything like the rest of you nut-ass niggas—and act like our struggles can’t compare. Really, I’m as rebellious and ready to ruffle feathers as they come. And I’m not gon’ hold y’all, it’s oftentimes difficult for me to shake my true naughty nature. Truthfully, at times I don’t know what stops me from going against the grain, but restraint and discipline also come naturally to me. Everything needs balance, at the end of the day. And because it’s the end of the day, 12:22am to be precise, I’m laser focused on balancing the scales. Riddle me this, what’s yellow and black and red all over? “Not a speck of light is showing, so the danger must be growing. By the fires of hell are glowing. Is the grisly reaper mowing? Yes! The dangers must be growing, for the rowers keep on rowing! And they’re certainly not showing, any signs that they are slowing!” Peace.