For about a month, I ignored Bishop Lamont songs because I mistook it as music from Bishop Don Magic Juan. I have no beef with green suits and pimp chalices, but I could care less about rapping from a person sporting said attire.
Turns out Bishop Lamont is a Dr. Dre protégé, which I wish was a cause for relief, but then I think about Aftermath's proposed releases.
- Rakim solo? Fat chance.
- Stat Quo? Keep eating off mixtapes.
- Eve? Try Playboy, or back to stripping while you can still afford to pamper that body.
- Detox? Release date: go f*** yourself to The Chronic
When are young rappers going to learn that Dr. Dre is a witch? It is OK to take his treats (beats), but do not go into his house, he will just plump you up and eat you alive.
All the more depressing is the greatness of “Grow Up,” with its chilled out acoustic strum, echoed hand claps and airy harp sample. Lamont reminisces about growing up hard for a verse, then turns his message towards men dressed as children: “Think your Chris Brown but you look like Keith Sweat / ain't you got kids to raise? / Instead of acting like them, act your age,” or even worse exotic dancers, “[gay ninjas] pull up your pants / got your drawls all out / what you wanna strip dance?”
From the looks of Lamont's mixtape Pope Mobile (see below), we do not need to pray for a debut album. God is his bodyguard!
Bishop Lamont, “Grow Up”