So you know those promotional posters for the new soul-centric black film I Can Do Bad All By Myself stuck to every subway station in Brooklyn? As if the sight of Madea with every stop wasn't deplorable enough, I could not ride the damn transit without getting Biz Markie's “Bad By Myself” stuck in my skull. It kept me from pulling the classic “catching zs on the train” move, but it also tormented my days as it's just an awkward song to hum in public.
I know there's an unspoken no eye contact rule, but what's the ruling on singing Biz Markie softly to yourself?
For good measure here's another gem from All Samples Cleared, which I find to be an unjustly ignored record.
This weekend be sure to never get the girls (or boys) with the under arm odor as a tribute to the Biz.