Jake Money-Money

^ Mike Jones...There's something commendable about a rapper who refuses an alias--unlike Dr. Dre, Notorious B.I.G., and Ice Cube. If nothing else, Mike Jones made a unique choice. Honestly, I can't name any of this guy's songs and yet I still think he's a badass.^

I promised myself not to post this until I no longer had a job as a cook at a gas station. That time has come. This is a rap I wrote for my former co-worker, whom I outlasted by three months laboring deep inside of Satan's asshole. This rap's namesake is 18, lanky, bespectacled, self-assured, and hysterical. We talked about sports and Trailer Park Boys quite a bit. He reminded me that regardless of how much I crucify myself for underachieving, there is still cause for hope and redemption in this life.


Anyway, I'm all done being sappy. Sometimes it's worth it, though. 'Cause everyone who can only laugh at cruel comedy that has no silver lining is doomed, you know.

Say hello to some flow and beats that mesh
The ladies and the playas call me Mint-E-Fresh
I got a day-job I won't have when I'm old
I'm just fryin' chicken 'til this single goes gold
We serve Mac 'n' Cheese out of metal pans
Which I collect 'cause I got a master-plan
To haul loads of tin to the recycling plant
Where I get paid like my name was Kevin Durant
Now I got extra cash to pay off a fine
I'm payin' my dues while a bunch of y'all wine
I'll breathe sick rhymes 'til ya'll feel stricken
Now check out my beats while I fry up some chicken

(Beats solo)

I might slack at work 'cause my heart ain't in the toil
When my bosses front, I say they best respect my foil
Twenty-two pounds!
I say that shit proud
Gonna toss metal-cash to the clamoring crowd
Gonna buy me a mansion and release some hounds
Buy a Ferris Wheel and shit
My dreams is legit
I'll buy 20 turntables and 10 microphones
When I cash in the gold grill of Mike Jones
I'm just playin'
Not naysayin'
MJ's got mad skills like Lebron
He's the African Don Juan
Leave the matter open for debate
Who's the best and which one's great
Some like 50 points but I'm down with triple-doubles
Now let me take you back to the source of my troubles

Last week the store changed providers
Went from ballers to bottom-divers
And they cut costs on the Mac
This new distributor was whack
They stuffed that Mac in bags
Which means no metal, no swag
I live large in a fortress of metal
And I won't let my empire wilt a petal
So I said I'm bouncin' in two weeks
'Cause I'm done swimmin' up shit creeks
I'll get paid for my metal, skills, and style
When I take my talents south on the Miracle Mile

(Sample of gun-shots solo)

Say, “Jake money-money, Jake money-money!”  (repeat a bunch of times)


* A line I scrapped goes: “My schemes be so greasy/ They go deep as for oil/ These ho's be so easy/ Pimp-protected and loyal.” BUT...I didn't want to promote the whole misogyny thing to a high school kid. On the other hand, his generation's grasp of what constitutes sincerity as opposed to farce is truly remarkable. Though I doubt the '90s babies will be as willing to fight and get killed in wars as honorably as those who preceded the Baby Boomers, they could be the generation to shrug so relentlessly that racism, homophobia, and religious fanaticism become lamer than an episode of Leave It to Beaver. '90s babies, your future could be bright if you work hard, stop submitting your souls to cell phones, and we don't nuke ourselves. Amen.