Suprême NTM
Suprême NTM

THE REVIEW

- Available on Cd & Cassettes - .
Cassettes. Burner. A decidedly unfair fight.

It seems like a century when it's not even ten years. Lately, I find it quite amusing when people say things like "but if you've never bought a cd with lire!" or "but if you don't even have a cassette!" to respond to the usual kids of the newgeneration-know-it-all crowd.

I obviously-who-cares-well-didn't-you-see-it-coming bought a lot of CDs in lire and had tons of cassettes, obviously-who-cares-well-didn't-you-see-it-coming.

Somehow, I hear more and more people who, when saying "cassettes," always add "who knows whatever happened to them." I'm one of those. This record is one of them. Dubbed as soon as it was released (crew buddy returning from the standard high school trip to Paris). Consumed. Studied. Memorized. Who-knows-what-happened-to-it.

Damn, who knows what happened to it. More Internet, less Cabernet. Oh well, might as well just bring it down. Re-listen. Re-remember. Re-consume.

Damn, but how beautiful it is.

I even re-dig up the VHS from '98 and find the videos again. That's My People. White Wall. Crew. Canisters. Aerosol Art. Dogs, cops, getaway.

Damn, but how beautiful it is.

Screw Your Mother, not beans with the peel. Supreme Screw Your Mother, not Caparezza. The two Ringo Boys with Champagne. Two tastes are better than one. Hip Hop at Rochefort. Nouvelle Cuisine of rhyme.
Always preferred White, as per the Physical Law that says "rap is black but when a white does it, it kicks everyone's ass" (see the entries Zack De La Rocha, Mario Caldato Jr, B-Real... and Screw Your Mother).

The American, the American, the American. Excuse me? We were saying Back Dans Le Bacs, Laisse Pas Traîner Ton Fils, That's My People, Seine-Saint-Denis Style.

Alright, fine, even French... well, yes, fine, even French. Take out the "even". French. So before spouting nonsense, breathe... yèh yèh yèh.

Breathe. Yèh. Yèh. Yèh.

It's no longer happened that the American was afraid. This is the last time. If you don't have it, you're gay. Enough.

Breathe. Yèh. Yèh. Yèh.