“I was like, ‘You know what? I love Raekwon, man.’ He spits bodies. But sometimes son be saying something and I don’t get it but it just sounds so good that I let it slide. You feel me? And I was like, ‘Let me see if I could write one of those.’ And I did. You know, ‘Giraffe neck niggas I blast tech’s/Alejandro, he came through with the Mexican Aztecs.” I was like, ‘I don’t know what I’m talking about but it sounds good, yo!’
Rae’s kinda hot right now with all the acclaim for Cuban Linx 2 and the most anticipated Wu dream collabo full length alongside Ghost and Method Man (supposedly dropping December 22, but us Wu heads won’t be shocked if it goes the way of The Cure and the Bobby Digital movie. At least the Rik Cordero trailer is murder sauce).
As an MC, I’ve marveled at Raekwon’s almost stubborn ability to remain in pocket, year after year, dropping those crime criteria slang doctor bars, regardless of the beat or the album or the nature of the guest feature. Of all the Wu members, he’s been the least affected by the changing rap landscape the past 15 years. No R&B joints, no Southern wrinkles in his catalogue. No double time bars, no next-level production. You know what you’re getting with Raekwon on the mic. The god pulls no punches.
With that in mind, me and the homie Has-Lo have been going back and forth doing our best impression of Raekwon for a couple weeks now completely independent of Sean Price and yet we ended up in the same place: paying homage to the Chef by talking and writing with that ol’ fly Lex jeweler spoiler kit on the Russian millionaire Lexus shit. Behold the gods’ actual mantis annex style convo’s on our tentative album together!
Has-Lo: Rae influences us all. He’s the catalyst for this rap shit man. The album I wanna do with you…that shit gotta be on some pyrexed out, Arabian crack disco wop in the G5 jet with Lex shit.
ZR: Those pyrex grenades hopping outta Croatian Caprice Classic joints.
Has-Lo: That Ghostfaced ski mask Mac 10 mic brawler shit. That hypoallergenic fly asiatic assassin shit. That drug mentality, money folders on the mound pitchin that Julio Eglesias cold covosia, sneakers that kill shit. I love fashion!
ZR: That go kart phenomenal, liver than fuck shit. That Stacey Adams smugglin’ fly apartment in Rancho Cucamona shit. That off top Reynolds Wrap blessed with Deniro cash shit. All day Alize blunt wrap, chef baked plush crack shit!
Has-Lo: Lookin for that crack vase ice baked grouper fish fly line shape up headliner shit. That crack vile tommy gun coke sniffer symphony shit. That dancefloor party fanatic colonel, street block general, weedhouse flushin the work, rob ya gate, custom Wally shoe, fresh valor, Linens and 9 milli Things, Bath and catch a Body Works shit!
ZR: With them cucumber burners still coolin’ when they peelin’, lame daddy faggots sniffing coke off painted ceilings!
Has-Lo: Folger’s pistols with the diamond chips flying out the barrell! Knock the porcelain smirk off ya doll face, then max in the imperial Benz tank with crushed leathers on!
ZR: It’ll be like crushed velour suede denim mocknecks on the back on Cuban gamblers, dunn dunn. The Persian duct tape on shiesty lawyers, aiming ruby Rugers at pie handlers, sitting ill in the helicopter overlooking Somalia shit!
Has-Lo: Baked raviolis with the clam sauce baking in that pyrex next to the cracks!
And here’s a new Catalina coke blanket off the new BlakRoc album featuring Raekwon: “Stay off the Fucking Flowers!”