I’m midway finished with Jay Z’s book Decoded. Half the book is an autobio and the other is a deciphering of his rhymes. I’m on the chapter for his hit Big Pimpin’. This is one of the closing rhymes:
Many chicks wanna put Jigga fist incuffs
Divorce him and split his bucks
Just because you got good head
I’mma break bread
So you can be livin’ it up
Shit I part’s wit nothin
Y’all be frontin’
Me give my heart to a woman
Not for nothin’ never happen’
After that last line, there’s a footnote. The footnote reads:
“Of course, I would ultimately end up doing what I said I would never do: give my hear to a woman”.
As I mentioned earlier, my former roommate (not the chick, but the mellow, mild-mannered SF native. Oh and technically we’re flatmates but I think “roomies” sounds funner) recently gave up his high-paying, jet-setting, managing-other-peoples-ass, 9-5 to start his own business.
This is the pilot episode of his news business.
We had a sitdown over cha-chan-teng the other day, I asked if he was aware that it may be a while before he sees financial returns. He replies saying: He knows. He ready. He ain’t doing this for dough.
BTW the Times Person of the Year–although a GREAT, GREAT read–is BS. There is no way Jules Assange is not the POY, talk about bowing to political pressure.