When you have a song where the hook involves harems, Danny Brown is the preferred musical guest. Chicago-raised Kembe has been kicking around for a minute, but he’s barely old enough to legally drink (and maybe not even that). Last time, I saw him he was at the TDE headquarters in Carson, smoking blunts the way that farmers pitch bales of hay. Some things are hereditary.
Danny Brown has laid as low as a guy like Danny Brown can lay over the last year. He’s too smart to play himself out and is probably powering up for another album by ingesting pills, weed, women, and Werner Herzog films. This is art rap on Adderall, after all. He might be watching Game of Thrones, note the Sire reference. There’s nothing too elaborate here. It could be the kind of thing you’d hear in the late 90s, the sort of track that got a video that aired six times on Rap City, only to reappear a decade later on YouTube and be re-discovered by stoned college kids. Seeping into the tradition, DNA, genetics, hereditary, whatever you want to call it.
