Gettin’ Shot Is What’s Up
There’s a video of rapper Uncle Murder doing an interview talking about getting shot in the head (yup, he’s talking about it again). From the tone of the interview, he’s sounds happy to have gotten tagged. This must have earned him a whole lot of respect in his hood where decent folks work their asses off to come home to crap like this.
Yup, the hood. The land of non-working heat and hot water, broken concrete, glass where the kids play and as Ghostface put it in “Nutmeg,” it’s “where the ambulance don’t come.” There’s so much pride to dwell in such a roach and rat infested hell that you have to wonder why anyone would ever want to leave.
Think about it, the trash doesn’t get picked up consistently, the store owners sell you food that’s been sitting in their dirty stores all day and then they go home to enjoy healthy meals miles away with their families. It’s like Shangrila in the hood.
Oh, I forgot about the old people who have climb eight or nine flights of stairs because the elevator doesn’t work or they’re too afraid to. Did I mention the fragrance of the hood? My mistake. Urine, dog crap, old chinese food, spilled liquor and crushed cheese doodles add to the welcoming aroma of the hood.
This is what Uncle Murder proudly represents. There’s no explanation needed as to why someone thought he was meaningless enough to shoot in the head. Why not?
Judging by his behavior, Uncle Murder doesn’t need a mixtape, record deal, prison sentence or a hug. Dude needs psychiatric treatment. Real talk.
