I don't know where BJ The Messenger has been hiding out since 1987, but I think it's about time he comes out of retirement and single-handedly saves hip hop. Rap has gotten way too ridiculous in the last decade or two, and all this bling-cars-and-bitches s**t has got to go. There was a time when hip hop was about the lyrics, about sending a positive message to the community. Now we've got dudes ghost riding whips and
Continue Reading Below
getting silly and lunatics crankin' dat all over old ladies on the train. We need a hero to come and save this once-meaningful form of music, and from the looks of him, I think this bafflingly-anonymous middle-aged rapper just might it.
I'll admit that he's a little bit hard on the crackheads. I've personally woken up with my face stuck to the pillow, my mom has called me an ugly gorilla, and I've had people tell me they could smell my body odor through the telephone. Does that make me a crackhead? I've been called all kinds of things for all kinds of reasons, but if you're going to call me a crackhead, it should be because I'm hopelessly addicted to potent, smokable freebase cocaine. Not because I sleep in, not because my mom made fun of me once, and not because of my powerful, wafting body odor.
No - call me a crackhead because I spend every single penny I earn on that sweet, sweet rock.
Anyway, we need to get BJ The Messenger out of retirement, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes. To that end, I've set up a PayPal fund to take your donations, which I promise will definitely go to BJ and not to my all-consuming crack cocaine habit. Feel free to chip in as much or as little as you want, but anything less than $50 is basically a waste of my time. I mean... his time. You know - because the money will go to BJ The Messenger. Because I know who he is and how to get ahold of him.
Please send me money.