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September 08, 2005


In a perfect world, Paul Wall would do a song with my fam C-Rayz Walz; everyone would slap in their fronts, ice grill the world half-to-death, and leave the studio paid in full.

I love this fucken guy, Paul Wall, but I'm a might-bit irate 'cause I've supposed to have been-had interviewed him for this feature I'm working on...time is running out Paul! Where Pretty Todd at (damn, that name suits him) and why he forcing me to go through some hifey label publicist to get to Paul?

I could go through the Houston-to-L.A. connect, but do I really wanna pull one of the few Houston favors to get a few words from the Grillmeister on his work with the Transplants or the Replacements, or The Crammmps, or Siouxsie and the Banshees, or whoever/whatever the fruck rock shit fuck shit this guy done chopped/screwed?

FUCK ME. I swear.

I just love his gangsta grizz-ill tho...despite my better judgement. Maybe when I get my weight up I can join the ranks of the chosen few who've copped their pull-outs (and I guess, their leave-ins) from DJ Paul Wall.

PRETTY TODD. Hook it up. We servin home-cooked food out here in L.A., CA...All Day. Holla if U hear me fam. I just need to talk to this character for like, 10 minutes, then I'll let ya'll get back to sizzurup-sippin' or sideshow dippin' or candy-paint drippin' or platinum-and-diamond teeth bill collectin' or whatevs. Cool? Cool. Hollerate @ the gal...POR FAVOR!




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