Welcome folks to our latest AVR competition! Up for grabs this month is Samsung’s all singing all dancing YH-J70 portable media player.
So, how do you enter? Well, this being a device at the cutting edge of the digital music revolution, we've decided to honour our street poet (though admittedly not the highest of fi) heroes such as The Streets and Goldie Looking Chain with a Crap Rap Comp. Just come up with a few lines of rhyme about your 'hood and the best/funniest/most bizarre will win the prize!
Sounds easy? Don't you believe it - have a look at some of our pathetic efforts:
Dave Oliver: Tough enough is my ’hood in Hornsey London town as far as the eye can see If you ever cross me you’ll be on a free -way to nowhere, like the pier goes to the sea
Al Rothwell: Down in Brighton you see 'em all Fatboy Slim, Eubank, Zoe Ball But drunks and townies often give you the fear Screwin' up your day on the Palace Pier
Oh dear, they're really bad aren't they? Judging by your imaginitive efforts in our previous competitions, we're certain you can do better. Just post your entries on the forum thread below.
So you want hear 'bout my hood, Cause it keeps me dry where ever I'm stood, It sits on my back when not in use, Hangs round my neck like a noose, When it starts to rain I pull it up, Leave it down in the rain and it catches water like a cup.
In my hood I look so fly, With it's bright colours, It catches your eye, Always on the back of My coat, Even when I'm sailing on my boat, I don't need no silly umbrella, Who'd you think I am, Cinderella?
Why is it, your 1st effort always seems the best.. But here's No. 2, and most of it is true...
Now I live in a place know as Stoke, Most people laugh and think it's a joke, Famous for Nick Hancock, Robbie & Sir Stan, Oatcakes, Pottery & me Nan's apple flan, But because of the latter - I am now alot fatter, So I need to win this wonderful prize, to listen to on the treadmill and lay off the pies!!
Yo, Yo, Yo Bromsgroves got the flow If y'all looking for some flavour Your shabby town's won't save ya' Give my streets a try "Ya'll Bitchin'" I hear ya' cry My man Guy Faulks got into some boffa Now we be respectin' this mutha!
Ramsgate’s a place where the kids sniff Mace and They ain’t scared o’ nothin’ but their mom’s hairy face When it ‘pears at the door yellin’ “Why you puffin’?” And they say “Coppers comin’, but I ain’t nicked nuffin!”
The “Mum's gone to WHERE?" man’s run off his feet Busy dropping off the bags full of pseudo meat Two minutes in the microwave, just thaw and eat Don’t matter that it’s made of what cow’s excrete
But hey, summer’s coming, everything’ll be right, “What’s wrong with you dude? It’s a pikey campsite!” We could lay on the beach in the bright sunlight If there’s space to put the towel down amongst the dog sh… YO!
Penarth's the place, right by the sea, It's really the only place to be. But things are changin,' with old folk comin.’ They’re taking over, ‘n’ the whole place aint hummin.’
But we're hitting back, teaching them to rap, Now they all wear hoodies or a baseball cap. When they go to the shops, there’s such a lot of fuss. They just won’t let them in, we’ve the whole place just for us.
But they’re causing lots of problems, they’re ruining the streets, Wherever we go, there’s dog mess ‘neath our feet. We’d hoped to turn the old folk into rappers, But they’ve all got dogs, so they’re really only cr******.