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Jamie Foxx - Unpredictable

Jamie Foxx. Yea, you know him. Super Star. Man of the Millenium. Probable Shithead. -- Now, I know this is out of format...but, if you guys don't mind, I'm gonna take this time to talk to Mr. Double X directly. Is that cool? You sure? Thanks, gang.

Ok, Jamie...It's me. Bobby. Now, I saw Ray...and you did a good job. An Oscar good job. But, for real, yo...why the album? You seriously need more pussy? I mean, damn dog...If it's your mission to make everyone else feel like lazy, sorry sacks of shit...mission accomplished, dude. But, why stop there? How about going out for The Lakers while you're at it. Or, run for President, maybe. How about a mission to Mars, you cock blocking sonofabitch?

Oh, yea...and amember that time when I saw you at the KFC on Georgia Avenue?? You probably don't, Mr. Mega Shit. But, I do. You treated the star struck chicken staff like deep fried pieces of shit. Me and my boy, Bus Stop, were seriously considering slamming your dome piece into a parking meter that night. Lucky for you we were starving, and chose wings over a face attack.

Anyway, I have no doubt that you will probably win the Nobel Peace Prize for this album, but dude...after this, just stop. No more amazing behavior. Ok?

Now, back to the script. We gotta album to review...

Ok, so first single here, and of course the shit is hot. I'm really feeling this beat. Whoa...lol. Wait a fucking second....yo, check out the opening lyrics....

1 + 1 ain't 2 when you're wit me/ C ain't after A & B when you're wit me/
It don't make sense right now, but it will/ Leave the room and you'll see how I'll make you feel

Very lame, Mr. Foxx. You're a very lame fox for that.

Warm Bed
Wow. This song sounds like a fucking space ship, or some shit. I mean, don't freak out or anything. There are drums and music and all that stuff. But, then there is this whole other element of sounds going on. Zaps, zips, and zoinks. I don't like it. Not one freaking bit. Buzz Lightyear might...but I don't.

DJ Play A Love Song - ft. Twista
Damn, man...this is the 2nd weird ass song in a row. Actually, the shit sounds like I might of made it. Jamie, please tell whoever produced this song to tune his fucking instrument. Seriously.

Also, Twista shows up rapping way too fast about fucking in an elevator. Does that shit seriously go down in real life? What about all those different floors you might have to stop on? I mean, even if you go all the way to the top without a stop...what is that? A 23 second fuck? No thanks. And, anyway Twista...no one wants to see your bare Chicago ass on the way to get ice.

With You -- ft. Snoop Dogg & The Game
Ok...Snoop vs. The Game. A Crip vs. Blood showdown. Hopefully, this track will end with both of these fuckos dead. I think I would like to see Snoop killed by buffet...and The Game eaten by a million red ants. I don't know why. I just do. [pressing play...]

The beat on this one rocks, but Snoop sucks. Snoop always sucks. Also, check out what The Gay says on his verse:

And it feels good, Baby/She looked back at me and said, 'You so crazy'/
I asked her, who's pussy is this/ She turned around and said...Jamie's!

Now yes, Jamie might be able to fuck my girl. I'm not famous. Plus, my girl ain't worth shit. But, Game? What the fuck? Dude is like a hood zillionaire.

Can I Take You Home
Can you take who home?? This is gay. I can tell. [pressing play...]

Ok, hot song though. The beat is courtesy of Timbaland, who stays with the heat. If only dude didn't have the body of Planet Saturn, I might actually want to be this cat.

Note: I've heard after this review has been completed that Timbo has lost mad weight. But, he is 5'2. Unless stilts come with the package, I still choose to be me.

Love Changes
Love changes? Fucking right...especially when you fuck my friends. And, yes Lisa...that is directed towards you. I hope you're fat and gross looking nowadays.

Extravaganza ft. Kanye West
Have you ever noticed how some words just sound gay? Extravaganza, Lavender, Kanye...all gay. [pressing play...]

Surprisingly, this one isn't produced by Kanye. He just raps. Also, Jamie explains how over doing the booze can lead to a homo ass-banging when you're already sorta gay. Listen:

Last night me and my dogs were hanging out...I had one too many drinks...it was a one night extravaganza.

Three Letter Word
Ray? Gay? Pay?...All 3 letter words. Ray...Pay...For...Gay.

This is a slow one...but pretty tight. Whoa...what the fuck?? Yo, listen to this shit ya'll...seems like there is some kind of error on this track. Like, the beat jumps around off key or some shit. And, I'm not being funny. I'm dead ass...this shit is beserk. It first happens at the :24 second mark...then periodically afterwards.

Seriously, someone that has this or buys it...hit me up and tell me if the shit is off on yours too.

Get This Money
Lol...Who the fuck is writing this shit? Jamie says...

"Shorty, trust me when I say, you're lookin John Blaze/ in your lingerie".

Really, who is writing this shit? I can do better than this shit. Check it...

Shorty....do you like Kix?/ Which kind?
Kix from a bowl?...Or Kicks from Bruce Lee, bitch?

Shorty....do you like you Crips?/ Which kind?
Crips that bang?....Or Crips wit a cane?

What ya'll think? Wack? Maybe. But, better? Definitely. Hire me Jamie.

Ok...true story...last night I was at this little club called, The Zanzibar, in Santa Monica. My man, Dale, sprung for a table, which is kinda VIPish, I guess. Anyway, the dude that was taking care of us told me, "Anything you want, you talk to me". Ok...now, I don't usually do the VIP thing, so I took dog as serious as a heart collapse. I had his ass running the craziest of errands. Napkins, limes, matches. Whatever my heart desired. Anyway, after killing about a 3rd of Dale's bottle of Belvedere, I asked Mr. Helpful for a ride home about 8 exits away. I was joking, but dude accepted. I was hammered and instantly thought he was possibly homo. I told him to fuck off and die. Shit was uncalled for. I could tell from his face he was just being cool. I didn't take it back or anything, but I felt bad as hell. [pressing play...]

Ok, ya'll gonna like this. It's some smooth ass pimp shit. To be honest....it's a hot song, but I don't know why...but, anything described as smooth pimp shit, secretly bothers the hell out of me. I'm sure alot of you will disagree with me when you hear this one, but I don't like it.

Do What It Do
Do what it do? What the fuck does that mean? Everything does what it does. Common sense will tell you that much. I mean, if you hang out with Busta Rhymes long enough, eventually he will do what he does, right? Eventually, he will bust a rhyme, right? Pot holders do what they do, no? They hold pots, don't they? I hate shitty titles.

Storm (Forecass)
Tayo = Gayo. Now, I know that doesn't make sense to any of you folk, but it does to me. My boy Tayo refuses to read my site, so I told him that I was gonna work him into the script as an ultra fag. So, there you go, Tayo. You're an ultra fag. Read my site, punk!

By the way, this song is about precipitation. A weatherman continuously talks throughout the track about what you should expect for tommorow. Tayo...it's raining men all over your fucking face, you unsupportive jerk.

U Still Got It (interlude) ft. Common
On this one some chick starts off by saying: Do I look fat to you? Shawty, the answer is yes.Trust me...if you're asking, you're a cow. Also, Common is on this, and true to form, he is talkin a bunch of righteous bullshit. Communist says: I know it's probably strange, seeing your body change/ Can't fit your clothes, nose ain't the same. Comment, your lady has nose gain? Weird.

By the way, the beat on this one is way hot.

Bitches and chicken! This song on the other hand is hell.

Wish U Were Here
I really, really hope this is gonna be about Colonel Crip, Stanley "Tookie" Williams. You kept it hood, dog. Well, at least until those comic books you started making. [pressing play...]

Ok...this one is slow, but kinda hot. It's got a gospel vibe to it. But, unless Big Tookie was really Jamie's mom, this is about something else. You can actually apply this unspecific ode to whoever or whatever you choose. I choose the old school McDonalds' apple pie. The deep fried shits. Man, I miss those. R.I.P.

Aight, that's it ya'll. I'm gone.

3.5 out of 5

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