Dust yourself off and try again

Jamaica funk that's what it is. That's what it can sometimes be. Moody's mood and all that smoky sorrowful jazz. And then in a flash it can be so much more. Like I was leaving Better Burger today in Chelsea and I smiled as I listened to Juvenile's Greatest Hits on my sisters old white discman (please some rich pitying soul buy me an iPod). '99 claassic "Back That Azz Up" had my flat-non existent ass twitching on the streets not that it raised a brow or any other organ in the man loving district. But it did make me smile in more ways than one. First the fact that I was trying so hard to not shake my ass on the street. Second that I realized I was a fan of Juve the Great. Me listen to that Slow Motion cat. He's like one of those country rap dudes. But like Roy said I must of forgot and like Fat Joe said I was also forced to lean back to Manny Fresh's fun loving sounds and Juve's innovative kinda trigga da gambla/smoothe da hustler steez on "HA" "Mama Got Azz"? classic! "Bounce Back"? Infectious! "400 Degreez"? On Fire! I'm a supporter of Cash Money, the label and the currency and I ain't go bidness criticizing these kids for listenin' to Lil' John.

There is something to being 19 ridin' in your besy friends brothers roomates Navigator on Peachtree of even AUC's famed strip bumping Juve. It captured my collegiate years in a fantastic manner. Its pure fune. Pure un-selfconsciousness. Pure fucking ignorance and ignorance is bliss.