Muggs ain’t dead. Though the DJ beatmaker has a Rzaish tendency to overstep the boundaries of hip-hop by overexperimenting with foreign instruments and samples, his music is still the best part of Cypress Hill. That he’s the sole producer here after having little to do with their last album should give fans a sigh of relief.
That assumes they can breathe at all, of course, thru the heavy clouds of weed smoke lead rapper B-Real exuberates. His Reefer Man anthem is a highlight, pun intended, along with Oh Na Na and Crazy; all featuring Brevi Wood on the hook. Acid is the main drug though, evident by both the set’s title and its psychedelic vibes.
my rating = 3 of 5
I don’t know whose house it was, but I’d been staying there for what seemed like days; not because I’d been evicted from my place or anything like that, but on good terms; when I suddenly noticed what looked like a macaw parrot in a cage on the floor. I don’t know if it was my first time realizing it was there or if seeing it reminded me it was there, but there it was; a thicker wider version of what may as well have been Toucan Sam. When it noticed me looking down at it in that little cage, it began squawking and fluttering about as if it was desperately trying to tell me something. “Awww,” I thought and probably said aloud, “It’s hungry.”
“Starving” may have actually been the word as I got the impression that it hadn’t eaten, or drank, in days. I don’t know what made me think that. Its behavior may have been because it simply wanted me to set it free from the cage and there may have been food pellets or at least a water bottle among the light clutter, what looked like toys and other things it could play with, in the cage. I figure I figured it hadn’t had food or water because I hadn’t seen it eat or drink since I’d been there. Everyone; I was there with at least a few other people; seemed to completely ignore it. Part of the reason for that is because it was so damn quiet. Well, until I approached it.
Though I wished I’d noticed it sooner, I’m glad I noticed it at all. And if no one else in the house, which could have actually been a large apartment, cared about it, I did and I wasn’t going to let it suffer. So I began looking for food. The room it was in seemed like the kitchen anyway and there was a loaf of bread on the table or counter top, but it was molded. So I walked around the place, at one point passing a room with a girl who looked like a cross between Dawn Robinson from En Vogue and YouTuber Tasha Green; with a more protuberant brow ridge, nose and lips; sitting on a bed, but she and everyone else said to just give it the moldy bread.
I wasn’t going to do that though. I considered the fact that birds typically have a stronger tolerance for fungi than humans and the bread may not have harmed it, but I didn’t want to take that chance. I just wanted to help the poor thing, especially when what at first seemed like a squawk became a pitiful yelp. I was convinced it was starving, and dehydrated, and I wasn’t going to do nothing about it. Neither was I going to feed it moldy bread. I was going to get it fresh water and good food, even if I had to go buy it. I’d made up my mind. Why do people have pets if they’re going to neglect them, I thought, as I prepared to go to the store.
2018 ( September 02 )