My Two Cents on Fiddy

Last week, I was working on a television spot for an unnamed client and an unnamed agency. I can't say anything more about it because of NDA's and such. And frankly, it's not important.

The spot was retail in nature.

I'm at a point in my career when I'm asked to do a great deal of retail. That might have bothered me in the past, it doesn't bother me now.

I'm not above writing anything. Mostly because I'm writing endless checks to the University of Washington. And next year, probably the University of Colorado as well.

"Oh and Daddy I need $120 to buy a new digital spectrographic confibulator for Chem class."

Since it was a retail spot, I thought why not cart out Fiddy Cent as a spokesperson. Hell, his name practically screams RETAIL.

Not knowing much about the man from South Jamaica, Queens, a short bike ride away from Flushing, where I went to elementary school, I decided to check out Fiddy online.

Holy Shit, what a potty mouth!

I can't understand a word he says when he "sings" but his lyrics leave little to the imagination.

My lust on level 10
I'm tryin' to get in
I'll have you cumin down your candy walls
Get it wetter than Niagra Falls

That's from one of his love songs. Here's another:

I got half a mil deal with no diploma
Ice so blind it give your ass glaucoma

The imagery is a bit stretched, but the man can rhyme. And finally, there's this one:

She in the Gucci tights and Findi high heels
Baby wipes and cans of Infamil
Motor bike and grams of fish scale
It's a 9 to 5 niggas with no frills

No idea what that means, but it comes from a song titled "I Smell Pussy".

What's amazing is that I found all these snippets within seconds. I didn't have to cherry pick or do any digging. I simply went to a catalogue of his songs and found these so-called lyrics. Ok, the last piece I picked specifically because the title caught my eye. And my nose.

But the point stands.

His music is out there. And he is just one of what seems to be a million other rappers trying establish their street cred. So the airwaves are teeming with this bile about n*ggas, triggas, glocks and cocks.

Which makes it a little difficult for me to sit with a straight face and listen to Mr. or Ms. Client tell me they're not fond of a headline that starts with the word "don't."

"Maybe it's me, but it seems a little negative. We don't want to be negative."

By the way, the idea never made it past the junior, junior planner.