Mike Tyson pulled a genius move for his last fight. He decided to get wrecked by a tomato can in the nation’s capital. It is your right to lose. At least Roy Jones Jr. traveled to the other end of the earth to get beat down by a nobody. It’s two days from now in Australia already.
“Damn, son! You got knocked the fuck out!” “Man, you’re living in the past. I’m on some other shit right now.”
Jones traveled to Sydney to fight Australian Danny Green for some belt. It’s supposedly called the IBO world cruiserweight title belt. It’s probably made out of Aborigines and gold. I’m having a title fight for my belt in Vanuatu next month. The belt’s composition shouldn’t matter to Jones because he didn’t make it out of the first round. See for yourself. It’ll save you the trouble of watching Versus.
Jones should go back to rapping. He’s no worse than most rappers from the South. He can fight Soulja Boy over who should be called Superman. He should win that fight.
Let’s not be too hard on the former champ. He didn’t make any excuses for his performance. However he has to feel terrible that he lost to a guy who came out to Down Under by Men At Work. That should signal the end of a career especially one as great as Jones’.
An alarming trend is increasing in English soccer. We’re not talking about roasting. That goes back to the days of the Magna Carta. We’re talking about players getting on the mic and thinking they have skills. We last brought you the manatee-ish warblings of Cristiano Ronaldo covering Julio Igelsias. Don’t worry, Man U fans. You still have Rio Ferdinand. He may be shit on the pitch lately but at least his skills on the mic haven’t faltered … Um never mind.
Fergie should bench him for this abomination. Never mind his crap form for United.
Speaking of Ronaldo, we can’t leave you without letting you know about his new collaboration. The Portuguese walrus of love is reportedly collaborating with Joe Jackson to put an end to George Foreman’s reign as the king of grills. The two are teaming up to release a line of grills shaped like soccer balls called “Goalie Grills”.
If there’s anyone who knows how to work a grill, it’s the guy pictured above. You know I could go with the boxer but I’m gonna go with the effeminate soccer player with the short shorts and pink shirt. Hopefully the grill plays his new jam whenever it’s opened. How long until your guests find a way to impale you with a spatula or spork?
Joe Jackson is claiming this story is true so it’s probably not since we haven’t heard from the tikka-tinged one. If this project is legit, it’ll end with Joe beating Ronaldo to a pulp. “Always be selling, fancy boy!” Tito will be in the corner crying, “That’s what daddy did to Michael when he took my syrup! Mama, make him stop!” while Katherine screams, “Joe, stop beatin’ that girl! Joe, stop beatin’ that girl!”*
Unlike other athletes-cum-rappers, B. Lloyd is all about being the sensitive playa while keeping his game tight like a virgin if you will.
“‘She All Mine’ is about a man who feels that his relationship with his lady is about more than the lovemaking.” Lloyd said in a statement. “I knew Bobby Valentino’s voice would be a perfect fit for the song and he blessed me by being willing to grace the song of an up-and-coming artist. Not everyone is willing to do that.”
R. Kelly took time out from pissing on a schoolgirl to laugh at B. Lloyd’s silly notions about love. I guess that makes him better than Musiq Soulchild who seems to think he can get the girl by going into the friend zone. Great strategery.
His album Masters of Ceremony, which is complete according to his website, will be out in February of next year. You can pick up the single on iTunes. You know George Michael loves him some B. Lloyd and probably picked the new hotness the day it was released.
I don’t know if this measures up to Dana Barros, Cedric Ceballos and Sadat X. Who knows if he ranks with Shaq, Prime Time or Tony P? He seems to think so. Wrappin’ up your dome like Osama as one does.
He also eats chicken cause that’s how Surinamers do. With rhymes like those, it’s no wonder Liverpool’s Ryan Babel is in the fat Spanish waiter’s doghouse. He can’t get a start and if he wants to know why, he might start with his rapping.
He’s not mumbling. He’s rapping in Dutch. Here’s your translation:
Rapping is my hobby Rappers don’t want trouble I’m the Liverpool star those bitches are loving I know what time it is – I’ve just bought a new watch I’ll give you a punchline: eight seconds, you’ll be knocked down Towel in the ring My family in the V.I.P No caviar for us, Surinamers eat chicken Ya’ll know nothing: this is the Premier League Representing the G You can see this nigga with number 19 Ya’ll can fuck off, I fuck with a whole team Ya’ll can talk, but you don’t get anything with it Ya’ll can’t be like me, my status is too high If rappers come to close, I have to take space People watch YouTube to learn my actions I have those skills, try some tricks I was a poor nigga Now I make fucking money I went from the Euro to the English pound I put money in my pocket, now I spend money on nothing I like it this way, I’m sure you like it If somebody want beef, well come on I like it with some pepper, homie I’m sure in my life Give me the fucking ball, you lose both legs And now my competition is past If you hate me because of that, I say you’re right If I was you, I would hate me too I have the shit homie I can’t even spend all my money Keep your daughter in sight. or you will be my family I’ll take your daughter and let her make clean 101 Barz – this is the first time but I came hard! I came alone, I don’t have a back-up I came because I mean it Check it