Schmiddy's Timbz Do Work

Smif n Wesson - "Timbz Do Work" ft. Heltah Skeltah


Note: Schmiddy sent me a mail this morning at 2:48am, after arriving back at home from the world's best rap concert ever. I'm not normally one to do guest posts, but this was hilarious to me. Also, me and Schmiddy are like BFF. My edits (for clarity/content) are in brackets. Otherwise, this is all his doing.

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Y’all know I usually wouldn’t ask for a guest entry, because y’all muh’fuckas been reading this shit for years, just like me. But this is special, this is special muh’fuckas. And yeah, I’ll be calling you muh’fuckas a lot, because rap told me to and because I put it in my clipboard. But I mean it in the most sincere, respectful and beloved way possible – rest assured muh’fuckas.

Schmiddy's not-so-yellow Timbs + icicle accessoires. Click for a close up.

So the reason I wanna post here, muh’fuckas, is because I would like you muh’fuckas to take a look at my Timbs. That’s right, these used to be perfectly clean yellow Timbs, like Big Baby Jebus intended them to be [Ed: I can vouch for this, as I've encountered them more than once just chillin in the shower after he's cleaned them]. And yes, those are [icicles] stuck in my Timbs, because it’s cold as fuck in Hamburg. The line up for the concert I went to tonight justify how my Timbs look.

Ladies and muh’fuckas:

Jeru the Damaja
MirkoMachine
Paris
Tha Alkaholiks
The Lords of the Underground
The Beatnuts, dedededuh-de.

If you know me, you know right now [that this concert made me jizz in my pants in a completely non-sexual way]. My pants are all types of stiff and they used to be baggy [Ed: from all the dancing and sweating and hip hop moshing], muh’fuckas. That’s disgusting, I know and that’s like "mehr geht nich’, alta!" (translate that for me Brooks). [Ed: ummm "dude, it doesn't get better than this!"]

Let me recap. In 1996, I was in Anderson, Indiana and Jeru, the dirty rotten scoundrel, dropped Wrath of the Math – entirely produced by [DJ Premier] – one of my favorite albums of all time. Later, I paid 22€ for this piece of wax after years of searching for it. This muh’fucka delivered a real dope show. Later, I saw him leave with some [...] 20-year old chick. That makes you wonder how deep those conscious-ass lyrics [...] are. But dammit I didn’t go there to see my idols kill themselves. I came there to have a good time, right?

So next, my man Mirko. Not only one of Germany’s finest DJs, but one the world’s best. I think he won some DMC championship(s) in the early 90s and he has only improved ever since.

Next, Paris. Now, he was the only one I didn’t know. Oddly enough, he’s the only one my buddies Mr. Schlimm and his crew (some mid-30s metal heads) did know. They love themselves some hardcore metal and old school rap [Ed: Just like Schmiddy]. And when I say old school muh’fuckas, I mean old school like Busta Rhymes meant it when he was one of the Leaders of the New School in '91. So Paris apparently was the support for the PE concert in December and he sounds just like that. By the way, Schlimm is the dude who tossed a glass of beer at Flava Flav’s head when he tried to promote his show “Flava of Love” on stage. I had that confirmed from random sources on the street: "Yeah, the PE concert was dope, except when this dude threw a cup of beer at Flav’s dome!"

I honored Tha Liks by not taking part in the mosh pit, but by drinking more beer.

L.O.T.U.G. This is another story from Indiana… I was at Anderson’s public library teaching myself HTML [Ed: See, I told you he was a nerd] and borrowed AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted by Ice Cube and Keepers of the Funk by the Lords [Ed: Wait, they had those albums in Anderson, IN?]. I taped them shits, ‘cause Frauenhofer hadn’t invented mp3s, yet. Lord Jazz, Mr. Funkyman and Do-It-All – some of the most funky-ass shit I’ve heard to this day muh’fuckas! Skeeeeeet!

Ahhhhh, and the grand finale by big JuJu and Psycho Les. C'mon they don’t need to do shit but step on the stage. Stone Crazy! One of the first albums I bought when I got back to Dortmund in '97. For reals muh’fuckas.

Peace,
Schmiddinger


PS: Congrats on your offspring, Remington!

PPS: Muh’fuckas, I just wish I had some Bobo’s Chicken honey right now.