Hey there hep cats and kittens! They call me Papa Jim and I'm here with a groovy offer for all you rap-ers out there! Now I know what you're thinkin': "Hey! What is this kooky square a' hip-hop-hollerin' about?" Well, let me give you the low-down on my down low. Right on!
I invented Hip-Hopping after taking a bullet in the keister courtesy of Charlie during Operation Pegasus. Me and my platoon buddies would lay in the infirmary and "rap" about our war wounds while smoking hashish and "shooting the breeze". After good ol' Dick Nixon shipped me home before my goddamn job over there was done, I found myself on the streets of San Francisco with no money, no job, and no direction in life. But I had a dream.
A groovy "hip-hop" dream.
Back then, I didn't have any of the fancy equipment rap-ers like "Fifty Cents" or "Bell Biff Devo" had. We didn't have drumming machines or Pro's Tools. If you wanted to make a rap song, you had to splice together Grand Funk Railroad tapes and rap over the instrumental parts. That's some heavy stuff, man!
Funky as it may seem, we still rap-ed about the same thing these new "brothers" rap about: cars, girls and drugs. Specifically, Trans-Ams that got 3 miles to the gallon, womens lib chicks with knockers that resembled half a tennis ball stuffed inside a tube sock, and our PTSD meds. Can you dig it?
Sometimes, the journey was harsher than a bad acid trip at a Foghat concert, but I still managed to pull myself up by my own bootstraps, and now I'm living the hip hop-ing American dream! I own both a grand piano and acoustic guitar. You see this record on my wall? Grade-A silver leaf plating. I may have mine, but don't let my paradoxically conservative voting record fool you groovy kids: Papa Jim is all about sharing the gift of hip-hopping with everyone! That's why I put together this swinging instrumental for you rap-ers to rap over.
So c'mon, "dudes"! Lay down your best rap-ing over my happening instrumental and send them to Papa Jim here in Sugar Hill, GA. Yes, Sugar Hill. Just like the Gang of the same name. Papa Jim "keeps it real" all day long!
Peace out, and remember to always follow your Hip Hop Dreams!
" Is papa jim related to papa john? If so he should stop making this rap shit and bake me a goddamn pizza."
"My name's Poppa Jim and I'm here to say,
I really have no idea what rap music is can you explain it?"
"It's like George Carlin if he was nice, awkwardly painfully white and was interested in making shitty rap via Youtube."
Are we not allowed to be real parents anymore? We may have feared the CyborFreaks, but we damn well respected them and learned about boundaries.
A thousand years ago, dudes were dying from splinters, but now the wizard potion that cleans our light wounds costs less than a Dr. Pepper in 1994. I love this medicinal 7up.
Ron Paul spins in his chair, trying to grab his decorative antique musket but Freddy gets it first.
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