Iman Shumpert Drops Track About Paying For Family Members
I have exactly one beef with pro athlete rappers, outside of the obvious "most of them suck but have the money to get their stuff produced so they do it regardless." I absolutely HATE when a guy who makes literally 100-times more money than the average American tries to flex like he's selling dope and gangbanging. No you aren't dude, so stop.
(And if you are, also stop.)
It just never seems appropriate for someone who travels around the country playing what amounts to a children's game to get credit for living THAT life we've come to associate with rap personas. I have no idea what Cam'Ron does when he's not in the studio or on tour, so I can't definitively say his hardass persona is a sham, but I do know what Iman Shumpert is doing. He's wearing lycra armbands and throwing a ball into a circle for people eating popcorn.
Thankfully, Shumpert doesn't feel compelled to misrepresent his street cred -- which is why his latest track can be taken seriously. On "290 West," Shump talks about the life of a successful kid navigating his complicated financial obligations to struggling family members. It's actually kind of interesting (at least when you consider that rapping about "health insurance" usually isn't).
Here's how he describes it...
[Soundcloud] The point of the song was to make the listener feel like they're riding with me back home in chicago as we head out west to my mother's house. This song is the conversation i would have with my audience in the sense that i'm venting to them about my everyday and on going battle of being a bread winner back home.
The flow is original, Shump's voice is B+ and the rhymes are good enough to keep you listening until the weird middle section that solely consists of wind noises, taking up much of the track's three-and-a-half minutes. Otherwise, it's pretty decent.
I be grinding like the waiter putting the pepper in the caesar salad
My mother need a palace
A family shaker booty party -- we gone get it crackin'
Since aunt joofy(?) hits the booty, dude we still laughin'
But I'm getting pulled from all over
I hear the sad stories and get long texts
Like, 'Dawg I hate to ask for it'
But who needs help
And who wants handouts
It's hard not to reach my hands out
New York burn:
Let me paint that panoramic picture
Where I march with the largest city
Oh, it's nice when they standing with ya
Strong arm till the shoulder threatens to pop out
Find me locked in
No block out
You say get your money youngin' - it's there
So sit yourself in the chair
In time it becomes a coupe
With a detachable roof
Two to three women if you're into that
I'm telling the truth
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