#rappers in court

[yamnbananas]

Rapp Snitch Knishers - MF DOOM 2004

[todayinhiphophistory]

Today in Hip Hop History:

Queen Latifah released her fourth album Order In The Court June 16, 1998

[the-meme-monarch]

dumps these three in your inbox and runs away

THE THE THE THE. TH. hey why are their names in the undertale logo font. hey that. that’s not the deltarune logo font that’s the undertale logo font. you fuckers know things i know you do you Do you know undertale things. anyway it is incredibly cute to me that capn is the only one with hearts in their name. i know this is just how the font is but it’s very charming to me. i think he’d like it. ALSO K_K BREAKING IT DOWN FUCK YES FUCK IT UP K_K

anyway im Assuming this is also japan exclusive. hell world that i can’t have them but it makes me happy they Exist at all

EDIT these are part of a Bigger collection including Many Other characters so my Focusing on the font is kind of A Nothing Topic !

[turbomnstr]

FREE NBA YOUNGBOY !!!!!!

[solstic13]

Some Ptr and Ujl incorrect quotes: Part 1 of many

I will be posting a lot all day today! this is the first of an entire storm.

[ausetkmt]

According to a spokesperson for the San Diego County District Attorney’s office, rapper Boosie Badazz was arrested today. The spokesperson claims that Boosie was appearing in court for a recent gun case. The gun case was dismissed, however, Boosie was later arrested by federal agents outside of the courtroom. It’s currently unclear what the cause for Boosie’s arrest was.

Boosie pleaded not guilty to his gun charges last month. He was facing up to three years in prison for the four charges. Boosie was charged for felon in possession of a firearm, concealed carry weapon in a vehicle, possession of ammunition by a prohibited person, and unlisted owner of a registered firearm. After his initial arrest, he was released on bond. He later performed in San Diego, where he encouraged fans to chant “f*ck San Diego police.”

Read More: Boosie Badazz Says Kanye West Doesn’t Like Black People

Boosie Wants To Study Law

Boosie also recently shared his interest in becoming a defense attorney, after he attended YNW Melly’s double murder trial. He wrote on Twitter, “IM NOT MISSING NO MORE RAP MURDER TRIALS‼️” Also adding, “THIS SH*T IS EDUCATION NO [cap emoji] WATCHING THE DEFENSE N PROSECUTION DROP BARS THEN LOOKING AT THE JURORS TRYIN TO READ THEM IS CRAZY‼️I WANT TO STUDY LAW ,I WANNA TRY IT ,I THINK I CAN BE A DEFENSE ATTORNEY R AT LEAST HELP SOME ATTORNEYS OUT‼️IM MOTIVATED.”

What do you think? Make Sure to Let Everyone Know Down Below

Read the Comments

The father of one of YNW Melly’s alleged victims also tore into Boosie for speaking out on the rapper’s behalf earlier this week. “Y’all are b*tches, man. Boosie down there supporting Melly — he flaw as f*ck for that. He don’t even know that n***a Melly,” YNW Juvy’s father claimed. He then went on to say, “He talking ’bout, ‘I want Melly free ’cause that n***a bought me snacks and a magazine at the airport.’ What? Man, go to Marlo Mike’s trial, n***a. Fuck you at this n***a trial?”

Read More: Boosie Badazz Appears At YNW Melly Trial, Gets Annoyed With Man Sleeping During Testimony

[Via]

[reasoningdaily]

Boosie Badazz Arrested by Federal Agents ... After Court Appearance

6/14/2023 11:46 AM PT

While he may have cleared the air in one case, Boosie Badazz was dragged back into another legal mess, getting arrested by federal agents ... TMZ has learned.

A spokesperson for the San Diego County District Attorney's office tells us Boosie was in court Wednesday for an appearance in his ongoing gun case. The good news -- the case was dismissed. The bad news -- he still had another pending legal issue.

We're told Boosie was arrested by federal agents outside the courtroom as soon as his gun case hearing wrapped.

We don't currently know the circumstances that led up to the arrest.

As for the gun case ... reports say Boosie was involved in a traffic stop last month when officers discovered two handguns.

Story developing ...

[1000-year-old-virgin]

Iggy Azalea - Woke Up (Diamonds)

Okay, I totally slept on this song

[kevindavidday]

love that moment when anyone writing kevin day smut has to. must. compare it to his exy skills. phenomenal experience to read such a thing. y'all don't know how much you are catering to kevin himself by saying he fucks like he plays. rappers put him in their songs like: fuck the mission, i say abort; she give head like kevin on court

[turbomnstr]

Brokeasf

[solstic13]

i am the only person in the world who cares for food court. So i made lore!! Ill make a google doc for them soon :]

[ausetkmt]

A basketball court recently unveiled and donated by NLE Choppa via a charity organization for the Memphis community was reportedly destroyed by fireworks just days after it was built.

WREG-TV reports firefighters responded to a call on June 4 about a fire at the Raleigh Community Center in Tennessee. Upon arrival at the scene, they discovered the basketball court was destroyed by fireworks that went off at the center court.

The Memphis Fire Department reportedly stated the court was covered in flames and that fireworks were the cause. While making the generous donation, the Memphis rapper said the court was meant to inspire and motivate the youth.

The court was created in partnership with Nancy Lieberman Charities at the Raleigh Community Center in Memphis. It was completed on May 24.

[sexyheretic]

Mr. Lanez, 30, was convicted of three felony counts: assault with a semiautomatic handgun, carrying a loaded, unregistered firearm in a vehicle and discharging a firearm with gross negligence. He faces more than 20 years in prison and could be deported.

The case, which played out as both a tawdry tabloid narrative and a weighty referendum on the treatment of Black women in hip-hop and beyond, was closely watched for both its famous characters and what it said about the recent adjudication of alleged abuse by notable men, such as Johnny Depp and Harvey Weinstein, in court and in public.

Mr. Lanez, though not a household name before the case, has seen his celebrity profile rise since the shooting, earning explicit and implied support from various corners of the hip-hop universe, including influential blogs, social media accounts and the rappers-turned-talking heads 50 Cent and Joe Budden.

[leclsrc]

a charles drabble with love language/s pls.... its all i want its all i have ever wanted

real love baby – cl16

You express love differently, but it’s love all the same.

genre: fluff

auds here... i hope you enjoy it! this is a scheduled post – my brain is so wonky and i absolutely needed to get back into writing before my hands atrophied and i wasted away into dust …. so i worked on a months-old req that i previously scrapped. am i happy w this? well i’ll answer that honestly and say

It happens first when you’re still friends.

Charles gets off a late meeting that’s wormed its way into the late hours of night, costing him hours of rest or training, and the paddock is empty save for staff members setting up for Sunday. He’s still got Sauber merch slung over his arm when he clicks on his car keys—when the lights flash, he notices a shadow by an adjacent car. “Hello?” He calls out, apprehensive. They let anyone into the area these days.

“It’s me,” says your voice, amused at the clear nerves his voice exhibits. “Why’re you leaving so late?”

“I couldn’t leave without making sure everything was set for tomorrow.” There are circles under your eyes, obscured by the lens of your glasses, the ones you wear when you’ve been staring at text or a screen for hours too long. You work a lot in the crux of a season, coordinating investors for Mercedes and making sure money is where it’s supposed to be every single day. “We’re getting budget breach accusations.”

“I planted them,” he jokes half-heartedly, leaning his side against the trunk of your car. You laugh, rolling your eyes. It’s not the funniest joke in the world—it wouldn’t pass at all if he did that at an open mic—but something makes it easy to do so, to throw your head back and affirm his attempt at comedy. 

Charles is so tired—from driving in the morning and results in the afternoon to a meeting that lasted hours and discussed basically his entire fucking future—but he enjoys having you laugh at something he’s said. He doesn’t really know why, just savors the way your necklace glints in the dim light of the parking lot and the leftover lighting from the paddock several metres away. 

“Funniest joke I’ve heard in a while,” you say mutely, sarcastic. Your car is on but you’re not getting in.

“Does Henry not entertain you with jokes of his own?” He asks lightly, smiling. “Henry? Harry? Or is he busy with… what was it, an online rap career?”

“Harvey.” You’re not laughing, and in fact displaying some expression that’s half amusement/disappointment, but he can spot the beginnings of a smile on your lips. “You knew that. And he’s not an online rapper.” Anymore, you leave out.

“Oh, that’s good. Was worried he was out to get Drake’s career.” You raise a hand to threaten him playfully, a genuine laugh escaping your lips. Your teeth flash and your eyes crinkle and his head doesn’t hurt so much anymore. “Appreciate the jokes while you still can,” he says anyway. “My migraines lately have made me very sluggish.”

You blink, reaching into your patterned handbag and producing a tiny bottle of Advil. “Take it,” you tell him, lips pursed. “Can’t have this year’s best rookie having chronic headaches.” You push it into his hand and smile tightly.

“Thanks,” he stutters, his throat dry. “I’ll see you around. With Harvey, maybe. You could introduce us.”

“Hah. Not sure that’s something I’d… I’d really want,” you dismiss quietly, watching him round the space to open his car. Louder, you add, “Let me know when you’re okay.”

He looks at you then downward. Then at you again, smile on his face. “I will.” He raises the Advil and gives it a shake. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” you say, grinning. 

—

The next time it happens (the next time you can both remember well, at least) you’re in the sweet little in-between of being friends and something else. He calls it his courting stage; you, your begrudgingly allowing it stage. At that point things had gone awry with Harvey, since he’d decided to jump back into his pursuit of Soundcloud fame.

“Hey.” You duck into the gym room, your head just in between the door and the frame. Seb sees you, bumps his teammate to catch his attention further; Charles jogs to you and leans against the wall, crossing his arms to hear you continue. “I’m leaving early today. No money issues.” You nod squarely. “Parce que I stole the funds.”

“I warned you. If you keep talking about embezzlement I’m going to have to kiss you,” he whisper-jokes, smiling.

He watches you hide a laugh, visibly flustered and stuttery, and he swears his chest hurts from how much it affects him, how strong his attraction is to you. He’s almost terrified of it, comforted only when you open your mouth to respond: “Are you gonna be in early tonight?”

“I, uh—” He turns to Seb. “We’ll be done in an hour, but I’m driving so I’ll wait around ’til later. Just… I’ve been too sore to properly get these moving for long so I need to rest for a bit.” He wiggles his arms and fingers. “It’s, well. The price you pay for being very muscular.”

“Jokes write themselves with you,” you scoff, cocking your head. “Okay, then. Um—I’ll see you.”

An hour later he leaves to take a piss and dick around while waiting for the dull ache at the nape of his neck to relax, and instead finds you in the Ferrari motorhome, close to sleeping. Your eyes snap open when they hear the pad of his sneakers against the floor. “Oh.” 

“Oh?” He smiles, his heartstrings tugging. “What’s… what are you doing here?”

“Waiting.” You mirror his expression with quiet grace. “I can drive you back, Charles. It’s—you shouldn’t be driving yourself in this condition. I got Andrea to drive your car to your hotel.” 

Despite his protests, he does end up becoming the passenger, and by extension the navigator and deejay, queuing up songs for you both to sing along to. In the unfamiliarity of the city and the dull exhaustion seeping into his bones, though, he’s asleep to a Police song before long. His hand rests softly on the centre console.

At the red light right before the hotel, you interlock your pinkies to wake him up. “Mmmff?”

“We’re near,” you notify, smiling at his sleepy expression.

“Thank you,” he yawns. Then for good measure, “Didn’t know I was in such good hands.”

“You ever gonna stop with the jokes?” You ask amusedly, turning right.

“Not if they make you laugh.”

“They do,” you murmur, fond. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” he says quietly, holding your hand fully.

—

Life became a blur of little moments like those after that night.

Sure touches, words of assurance from Charles; little deeds from you. Whispered in French or Italian or English while he wrapped you in an embrace on bad days. A spout of cheers on the better ones. A water bottle with a Post-it: Finish before noon!!! when he’d gone to bed mouthing off about being thirsty. A cup of coffee on the counter the way he liked it on days you both had the time.

Sometimes it would switch: that time you were sick and he showed up to the Mercedes motorhome, Evian and meds in hand every six hours to make sure you were up to sched with your cold medication. That time you wrote him a letter for your third anniversary and watched him wipe tears off his face before he even made it halfway. Another time he organised your flat’s entire bookshelf according to all your standards (only to ask you to move in a week later and redoing the organisation at his place). And another time you gave a speech on Charles at a gala and he accepted the award, again, tearily.

But every action, every word, every joke, every hug, has always been motivated by love. The kind of tender love, that was unfamiliar in the same way it felt so much like home. The kind of love you read about or your parents would send you off to sleep talking about. Love so foolish, but so sure—neither of you have ever needed to doubt for a second. The kind of love so big it should be confusing, but you’ve both come to find it’s anything but, that you always seem to be on the same page, or at least capable of getting there. Closeness, intimacy, friendship—that’s all it’s ever been.

And everything, punctuated with the same sentiment, the same words, ever since the first time:

“Thank you,” he says in one breath, his voice heavy with love, with overwhelm. “Thank you, thank you.” He finds your ring finger and slides the diamond atop it. 

“Anything,” you say, smiling in-between kisses, “anything for you.”