I never touched so much ass in my life–no, no, don’t worry, not on purpose.
I was at Fat Beats LA’s Last Stand farewell concert a few days ago, and it was so packed no one barely had room to move. This was not the place for someone who is claustrophobic; and mind you, this was on the balcony alone. At that moment, I understood why Bambu left.
After I pushed and shoved my way inside the establishment, I realized that I arrived just in time. It was worth the wait and all the body heat combined. With the restricted confines of the space, people still managed to jam to the lyrical skills of Xzhibit, Kurrupt, Ras Kass, Planet Asia, Volume 10 and many others.
It was like the hip-hop gospel was preached and the Fat Beats’ patrons were the congregation; testifying with hands up in praise as the west coast ministered. As you can see the sauna-like temperature in the room did not steal the joy of the fans.
Eventually, I had to leave because I would have passed out if I didn’t. With blurry eyes I bobbed and weaved through the crowd to find my way out. As I exited the room I heard HouseShoes tell one if his buddies, “I created monster”.
You are damn right buddy, damn right.