Friday, December 03, 2004


Lloyd Banks has clearly overdrawn at the S.T.M. (Simile Transaction Machine):

"Got my dick hard as a missile"
"My heart's colder then ya sandwich meat"
(Karma by Lloyd Banks)

Granted, when I was listening to this song last night I had to admit that, indeed, a missile is pretty hard because it's made out of solid metal, and that yes, if you keep it in the fridge, sandwich meat can become very cold. But come on, Mr. Banks, this is just getting silly.

Regardless, I must give credit where credit is due. So bravo, sir, on the following:

"N i pop in a listerine strip before you get all up on a bitch face"

I think I know what you're trying to say about someone who's dealing harshly with you—that's what "get[ting] all up on a bitch face" would be, right, like someone yelling, like a female yelling?—and I definitely relate to needing a listerine strip in moments of high stress with a member of the opposite sex. That is no time for bad breath. Yuck! You've captured the essence of the human drama in your floetry.


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