Back in the days of The Duke's youth, I was rather fond of a recording by the name of Santa Claus, You Cunt, Where's Me Fucking Bike?, a gloriously foul-mouthed festive number. Throughout Greatest Hits, that's the kinda shit I was reminded of. The kinda stuff you pass around in primary school and then you listen to at night with the headphones on and maybe your folks find it and you have to say a bad boy made you listen to it or else he was gonna fry your face in month-old gravy. Those CD-R's were most likely handed around in such a fashion, except now The Duke looks upon it all with a disdainful glare and probably some yacking about motherfucking kids nowadays, what a bunch of bastards they are, listening to songs about a woman with a penis.
This sense of uncovering something illicit, something dangerous, is lessened somewhat by the fact that these goons are now staring out from every damn record store in the land, although thank God it's not really them, usually just a poster saying about "This here record is available. It has songs about your mother has a penis."
Also, turn on the radio most days and you'll be treated to the hit single, Guns Don't Kill People, Rappers Do, a fuck-laden ditty regarding the perils of the hippin' and hoppin' on the Nations Youth. Don't tell anyone, least of all the cats involved, but this track is indicative of the kinds a brain-workings going on behind the faux-moronic facade.
Guns Don't Kill People… is at one level an incredibly witty satire, and on other, probably more interesting levels, an excuse to yack about bongs and "fuck" and so on.
"Guns don't kill people, rappers do,
Ask any politician and they'll tell you that it's true"
They then go on to illustrate the point with any number of harrowing episodes; "It's a fact that MC Hammer left me bleeding", for example, and also "Cypress fuckin' Hill taught me to make a fuckin' bong."
Sometimes the juvenile nature of the proceedings (imagine, The Duke, of all people, talking about folks being juvenile) verges on the genuinely offensive. You Knows I Loves You may be a much-deserved spoof of sentimental R-Kelly esque balladry, but the line about "My love is waiting like a rapist would lurk in a bush" still leaves a nasty taste in the mouth.
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