Gucci Mane - Weirdo (1017 Brick Squad/Warner Bros, 2010)

So, this video is just awkward, right? Gucci spends most of the video laying down on a slab in his orange jumpsuit while some girl dressed as a nurse playing a tattoo artist rubs his face down presumably finishing up that ice cream tattoo despite the fact that it’s clearly been done for an extended period of time as it features no swelling or redness. I don’t fucking know either; the other half of the video is just Gucci kinda slowly bouncing around while looking very unflattering in his aforementioned jumpsuit. This is part three of the videos that leaked earlier this week, those being Mouth Fulla Gold and Burr Burr. Those videos were a lot better. Weirdo’s still a great song, though. Mr. Boomtown is once again uninteresting.

Gucci Mane - Nickelodeon (So Icey Ent., 2008)

If someone were to come up to me and ask me what my favorite song is, as difficult as it would be to conjure up an answer, as many spectrums as I’d have to cover, I think I could rest assuredly by answering with Gucci Mane’s Nickelodeon. For close to three years, I’ve been absolutely infatuated with this song, finding something more interesting about it each time I listen to it. Even though rappers like The Last Emperor based entire songs around battles between rappers and comic book characters long before Nickelodeon was conceived, and plenty of rappers (including Gucci himself, on more than one occasion) have tried to incorporate cartoon imagery into gangsta rap, none have ever succeeded on the level that Nickelodeon does. It’s only appropriate that Gucci himself is a walking embodiment of this very song; a rapper who is equally cartoonish and animated in personality, but sharp-witted and physically imposing due to his past and stature.

There are so many quotables present - from the ridiculous the Grinch Stole Christmas, Gucci just stole 80 pounds! line that inspired a rather entertaining track on Waka’s original Salute Me Or Shoot Me to the three X-Men fell victim to my .40 cal triple-entendre that just effortlessly rolls off of Gucci’s tongue (along with all those x pills). There is never a dull moment here; Wonder Woman bracelets, He-Man watches, Batmobiles, Spider-Man kush, references to being observed like Underdog and even paraphrasing Elmer Fudd when he utters a shotgun like Elmer Fudd to kill dese dirty wabbits, this may, to this day, be the most clever song Gucci has ever written.

I think Gucci’s probably the only rapper genuinely capable of releasing a song about cartoon characters, and having it play in traps, strip clubs, dorm rooms, and D&D sessions alike. Gucci always had this strange nerdy-side to him - a product of the fact that Gucci clearly watched too much television and ate too many generic Fruit Roll-Ups as a kid - and even though he later went onto rap about Robocop uzi’s it was never more prominent than it is here. It’s a testament to his ability as a storyteller, artist, and above all else, personality, that he managed to touch so much ground without ever being labeled a sell-out (pre-Warner, at least). The fact that this virtually flawless, damn near impeccable track was left to languish in Gucci’s large mixtape catalog with very few words written about it (a severe tragedy) is equally disappointing and telling - telling because Gucci had so many more songs at the time as capable at crossing over as Nickelodeon.

Although Gucci says multiple times on this track Shawty Redd is behind the production, it’s long been disputed whether Shawty or his associate D. Rich produced Nickelodeon. I believe most are leaning towards the latter, due to the fact that D. Rich pretty much co-produced most of Shawty Redd’s tracks post-2007, and he headed in a more bouncy direction once D. Rich. Regardless of who should be given credit for the beat, it’s really a piece of work. The scale is epic; yet the light-hearted overtones of a song called “Nickelodeon” do immediately shine through. When listening to Nickelodeon, half the time I imagine Gucci cruising around East Atlanta with Pinky and the Brain in a Ferrari smoking purp. The other half of the time, I imagine a bunch of strippers dancing to this at Magic City. Either way, it’s always enjoyable imagery.

I could write about this song for ages - there’s just so much to cover, words simply can’t do it justice. If you ever, for any reason, missed out on this marvelous track, do yourself a favor; grab your best pair of headphones, and crank that fucking volume up. Maybe grab some Cap’n Crunch and throw on some old Rocko’s Modern Life episodes - make sure that shit’s on mute though, and just enjoy the bass and cartoon-antic being pounded into your eardrums (ayo).

Gucci Mane - Hella Ones (Atlantic/So Icey, 2007)

Sometimes my Gucci fanboyisms really shine through; I’ve written some journal-length entries in the past on certain songs with little to no artistic merit, I’ve found hidden meanings that may not even exist beyond the bubble my critical mind tends to bounce around in, and I have defended him for nearly five years, even when songs like this one were some of his peak lyrical moments. There are a lot of songs from the past five years or so I’ve always wanted to write about - half of them are Gucci’s - but never had the proper outlet until I stumbled across this platform. It would take forever me to cover each individual one that pops in my head (and I honestly remember most of them at work, before proceeding to forget them ten minutes later), but I’ve tried to dig up some personal favorites from my (iPod) vaults over time, accounting a few really interesting posts.

Hella Ones is one of my favorite Gucci songs; it was the nursery-rhyme/strip club hybrid he was always destined to make. His voice is perfect for this slurred, hazey little venture; he lets his usual croak extend even further, providing a melody that can simultaneously put infants to sleep and cause titties to pop (just, hopefully not at the same time; be a responsible parent and leave that kid home alone!). It’s just absolutely hypnotic the way he weaves in and out of one of Zaytoven’s finest moments, an instrumental that is equally as dirty and harmonic as Gucci’s flow. Zay’s signature horror-movie synths are present, adding another layer to this already proactive songs. To the average person, Hella Ones may sound rather minimal and dense; to the trained ear, Hella Ones is like a mass-organized symphony created solely for ass clapping (pause).

Lyrically, Hella Ones is one of the worst songs Gucci has honestly crafted - there is little to no wit here, almost everything delivered with a snide sense of superiority, like Gucci’s on such a higher pedestal than these strippers than he doesn’t have to be anything other than blunt. This was a trademark of Gucci’s music around this time; somehow, he almost always managed to pull it off, perhaps due to the sheer arrogance he possesses. His lyrics ooze confidence; he’s got a Rolls Royce, why’s he gotta rap well? These bangers’ll allow him to buy more of those yellow-hued diamonds he’s so fond of, and all he’s gotta do is smoke some joints at the strip joint in the process. His hustle’s on another level; he can spend a whole day making it rain at the club all day and then leave with twice as much as he came in with.

Hella Ones, along with Iced Out Bart and My Kitchen, was supposed to find its way onto Back To The Traphouse (which is classic, as far as I’m concerned), but for whatever reason was left on the cutting room floor (new renditions of Pills and Freaky Gurl with superstar rappers found their way tacked on the album in their place). Admittedly, Hella Ones doesn’t really fit the tone of BTTTH; it’s far too complacent in its simplicity, and would’ve felt awkward placed in between songs like 15 Past The Diamond and I Know Why. So, it found its way onto the horribly lo-fi No Pad No Pencil and we’ve never gotten a quality MP3 of it to this day (unless you count the video rip of this, which is difficult)

Alley Boy - Pocket Full Of Money (Duct Tape Ent./Atlantic, 2011)

BAIG BOOTEH STRIPPAHS