(Only available on the Special Edition 8-track "PK 27: Funky 4 Plus 4 More," to be released in the fall of the year 49311. Order now from Amazon and receive a fossilized replica of my tortured soul, replete with kung-fu grip.)
I dedicate this to sports analogies, doppelgangers, and redundancy (write that on my epitaph!).
As though explanations were necessary,
(where were you last night when my refrigerator, disguised as a refrigerator, bit me and stole three of my golf shirts?)
I don't even like Buck 65. If there's a sub-genre of rappers whose fanbase considers themselves neo-intellectuals because their favorite poster boy for watered-down angst delivery doesn't shave, is white, and employs a rhyme scheme reminiscent of the Beastie Boys' MCA with autism, Buck 65 might be their rhyming hero. To me he's just a so-so MC with a funny Nova Scotian accent who looks extremely constipated when he spits (an incurable disease for white Canadian MCs, it appears).
That said, don't dismiss '463' or Buck 65. The kid's got talent. He keeps working on his swing, he's finna do some damage in years to come. With some polish, a call up to the majors might not be far away.
American Grafitti End Credits: Since the '463' video, Buck has continued to play in the minors, though he did compose and perform a rap song on Sesame Street, and for that I am -- honestly -- extremely jealous.
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