Queen Bee

February 2005 (1)

Sitting downstairs in the living room with my feet kicked up on the coffee table, I had finally just put all the kids to bed after chasing them around for the last two hours, essentially begging them to just listen to me. I don't know why, but when one says no, they all just start feeding off of each other, influencing all the others to kick and scream their way to bed as well. It's hard as fuck to deal with since there's so many of 'em, and quite honestly, it gets real annoying real fuckin' quick. I still don't know how Angel managed to get them all to bed every night when I would be at the studio real late, but somehow she did, and all I wanna know is what kinda fuckin' spell she had to use to do it?! Honestly, it's like some sort of sorcery, and we've been broken up almost an entire year at this point, but yet somehow, I still don't know how to get all my own damn kids to bed. 

As my eyes stayed glued to the random TV show I was watching, I heard as Nate's heavy footsteps came from behind me. God damn it. I will bet any money in the world he comes and changes my fuckin' channel. I love the kid, but we really gotta find him his own place. "Yo." Casually jutting his chin out, he allowed himself to fall back against the leather couch. "Whatchu watchin'?" 

"It's a movie." I stated, my eyes refusing to leave the TV in hopes that he would just leave my fucking show alone. He has a TV in his room! Why's he always gotta come in here and fuck around with my shit?! 

He nodded. "Wanna see if The Girls Next Door is on?" 

Rolling my eyes, I groaned as my head pushed itself into the back of the couch. "Why d'ya wanna watch Hugh Hefner's lil' stupid fuckin' bimbos all the time?!" 

He laughed. "They're hot! They're bunnies! Fuck d'ya mean?!"

"Nate, lemme tell ya somethin'." I said sternly, my attention moving towards him. "Those bitches are the exact same as every other bitch on this planet, aight? You can find ten of those chicks walkin' down the damn street at any given time. Fuck, I've slept with more of those chicks then I can even fuckin' count!" 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, can we please just watch it?" He whined. 

As my eyes rolled into the back of my skull once more, I found the remote wedged between the couch cushions. "What channel is it?" 

"102, MTV." 

Nodding, I typed in the correct number on the small pad, and within only moments the channel popped up. "Aight, it ain't on-" I stated, immediately being cut off by the beginning of what seemed to be a music video. But it wasn't just any music video, it had Angel's name across the bottom of it, along with the title Lighters Up. "What the fuck?" I muttered to myself, turning up the volume as Katt Williams was sayin' some random shit about pimp slapping hoes who talk shit about Angel. 

"I ain't know she was comin' out with a new single?" Nate asked, confused. 

Shaking my head, I leaned forward bringing my elbows to my knees. "Me either."

As the both of us watched intently, the first scene that ran across the scene was seemingly numerous different people just talking shit about her, saying various things like they had heard she was selling crack, that I write her shit, that she went to jail, and wondering why her tits are so big. Ahh. Okay. The Katt Williams skit makes more sense now, but still, what the fuck is he doin' in the video? 

Immediately, the scene changed into what seemed like just random, home video shots of New York, probably Brooklyn I'm willing to bet, but only for a few seconds before it switched again to her, going right into her first verse. 

The first thing I noticed was the almost reggae sounding beat, as well as a slight accent she had to go along with it. It fit the beat really well, and it all sounded dope as fuck put together, but I did think it was a bit odd to hear her do something like this instead of what she's done in the past with the R&B, more pop-sounding beats. Essentially since this is kind of her come back I guess, and taking risks might not always be a good thing, but in this case, it definitely is I think.