Belly

Belly is not a movie. It’s a two hour long rap video. Despite dismissing Belly as cartoon-like tripe within five minutes, I did come away with some useful information from this MTV-spawned abomination. If I ever get lost in urban America and require assistance, I’ll be able to communicate effectively with the young black locals. In effect, Belly was a valuable PSA:

“Excuse me, yo! I’m lost, straight up. I’m Abe Froman, dog, the sausage king of Chicago. I move madd amounts of sausage yo. I ain’t no playa hata an’ shit, yaknowhutimsayin? I need directions for real tho.”

Word. Momma Froman didn’t raise no dummies. There are a bunch of rappers in the lead roles of Belly. How come you never see actors rapping? Probably because they can rap about as good as Nas or DMX can act. I’d pay good money to see someone like Tom Hanks on stage on the mic:

“I’ll pop a cap in that ass if you call me Forest Gump / yeah, bitch, I had AIDS in Philadelphia / does that mean you don’t wanna hump? / unleash Private Ryan from my FUBUs and roll over on your knees / ’cause I’m gonna do to you what the Academy always does to Spike Lee

If you think that’s some ridiculous shit yo, don’t ever see Belly. Let’s bounce!

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