Tuesday, May 2, 2017

An Imagined Conversation

Oh, why do I gotta be "DELIVERY?" Is it because I'm black? Because I'm some kind of gofer making deliveries for my white boss? Like I'm your fuckin' errand boy? Shiit.

Or is it because I'm like some dealer delivering drugs? Is that it? Just because I had a song called "I'm Your Pusher," now I'm automatically a drug dealer in real life? Now, if you'd actually listened to the lyrics, you'd see that I was saying I'm a pusher of DOPE RHYMES and RECORDS, not actual dope, fool:

I'm sellin' dope in each and every record store
I'm the kingpin when the wax spins
Crack or smack will take you to a sure end

Sure, it's a clumsy analogy, but so was "Lethal Weapon," where I said "my lethal weapon's my mind" and told you to go to the library to "get some more ammo."

But whatever. Back to the task at hand: I ain't your errand boy. And I ain't no drug delivery, either. I play a cop, even though I sang "Cop Killer" with that terrible rock band I had. See, you can separate my acting art from my music, see?

Body Count. That's it. That was the name of that band. Jesus.

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