And I will live [richer dinna mug] until I die:

Matthew Knowles, the manager and father of the pop star Beyoncé, is not the kind of guy who needs a handout from Uncle Sam. His daughter and her husband, the rapper Jay-Z, are reportedly worth $265 million, his record company has sold 200 million albums, and his investments include an entire city block near downtown Houston.  Even so, Knowles is in linefor a lucrative taxpayer-backed bailout. A federally-funded disaster relief program is set to purchase his home in Galveston, Texas, which was rendered nearly worthless by damage from Hurricane Ike, for something close to its original value: A cool $425,000. 

I think I found out why Tony stopped calling...

Nah... There's definitely something wrong with his phone... To be on the safe side don't sit by yours waiting for it to ring. For good measure, I'm gonna ask Brandy Jesus to take the shopping cart wheel.

This post was almost a "Lost In Translation" exclusive, but I don't even understand the Creole Dynamics anymore...

"Then I remember being 16 and being like ‘Okay, I can still be smart and I can still have the same beliefs that I have, but I did not have to have red Rasta braids. I can do that with straight hair. I can do that with a ‘fro. I can do that with a weave down to my butt.’ That was when I first cut my hair off. When I was 18 I got a hot flash because I was pregnant with [Julez] and I was like ‘It’s hot as hell so I’m cutting this shit off."

[-SOLO DA DON]

You lucky motherfuckers got to live to witness, yet another, B'Day! You better drop to ya knees and arch ya back and praise whomever you answer to on the Sabbath.

If you weren't aware, Friday, September 4, 2009 Tee-Tee turned 72 (to some people). And since it fell on a Friday this year we had to do it big! Now when you're a rich ass Creole family with a galaxy of haters and checkbooks, doing it big is bigger than just doing it big.

WE DO IT BIG, NIGGA!




Originally, we weren't sure how we was gon' do this, because no one in the Killa Knowles Klan shares the same views on "doing it big". When you're Kelly Rowland, doing it big is throwing your fiesta-fiesta overseas and having it a bigger success than it would be if it were held in the states. When you're Michelle Williams, doing it big is dropping down low and sweeping the floor with ya FACE at the local Negro complex for coon dancing and dutty whining (on Tuesday nights). When you're Cousin Angie... doing it big is whatever Tina Knowles, swag effervescent, thinks doing it big means. And Tina Knowles, swag effervescent, thinks doing it big means ordering a couple pounds of crawfish and sitting 'round playing spades and tonk out in the front yard in a gazebo tent you bought at Wal-Mart... And before you sit there and talk yo' shit, those tents are ideal for southern summertime activities because these Wig Crypt MOSQUITOES ain't no joke.

Pop-Pop's theme song.

Can somebody tell Kelly that I'm not speaking to her and that she's been blacklisted and that she is a big, dumbass because we are going through economic hardships and the Wig Crypt's production is down 64% and she ain't going nowhere until she give us back everything WE paid for:

1. The wigs.
2. The quick weaves.
3. The tits. (Better show me some tits or die*)
4. The Corolla that my momma been letting her drive.
5. The career that we gave her and she lost.


*Name that movie

Tomorrow is Judgment Day. No, God isn't about to smite that ASS for buying up the bar til you can't no mo' at the Red Rooster on Two Dollar Drink Night and not putting no money in the collection plate the following morning. Tomorrow, Billboard may or may not acknowledge my momma's new COASTER.

Being Knowles, we don't stop... we don't quit. We have to put y'all up on game for the next release...

So my Granny got a HOT NEW CD coming, right? It's gon' be bigger than Rasputia drawers. Here's a cut from the record that didn't make the final tracklist.

My daughter's really different
Sometimes I think she's a goddamn fool
I made her stay in the kitchen
And help Kelly serve us food, ooh
My firstborn she's the breadwinner
The other one helps fix bread for dinner
Go head BABY! Go head baby
Just don't break my new stove...

Celestine "Big Red" Knowles - I Decided

Something like that...

ATTENTION: This is in no, way, shape, form, fashion, or fabrication a swaggerjackeration of Beyonceitis' Wig Crypt... I just got bored and thought some shit up, while I was listening to I Decided from my brand new copy of Sol-Angel & The HadleyStreetDreams that I just bought. (SHEEEEEEITTTTTTTT)

Now I ask: What will you be doing today?

Is yo' favorite rapper a fake? Is they pumpfaking? Did they get a nursing degree? Did they push drugs inside the pen before they clocked in and open and close cells for the man?

Are you tired of these fugazzi ass niggas?

Including the The Little Creole Pimp Formerly Known As Baby Daniel's version to "A Milli"...

A millionaire
I'm that Dereon millionaire
With the soft Creolian hair
My granny so unfair, she'll beat my ass anywhere
I shank anyone I please... Lil' Rock tryna creep on my steez
Don't waste my time 'cause I won't hesitate to blow ya mind
Shank 'em or shoot 'em? There is a thin line
All my seconds and big faces go to the almighty dollar
And the almighty Power of Celestine & Matty
LaTavia, LaToya, LaKelly & other lames hoes
You'll get nowhere in this biz without the last name Knowles
Tell Ashanti ha-ha-ha-ha
Nelly won't let you see plat'num
He go by Uncle Joe's rules
So why the fuck did you get at 'em
You need to boss up ya status
Or at least switch to acting
Or marry a Creole... but I ain't tryna get atcha
NOT SOLD IN STORES!

Millie, who the hell told you to venture outside the House of Dereon campus? Why'd you think we bought you all them Tab soda and Word Up! magazines? So you can stay yo' ass where you belong!

You got 24 hours to hightail it back to the premises because around here you don't get the LAST LAUGH. And I know you been drinking my DANIMALS!

Millie, if you don't get your ass back in the wig crypt I know something.

I don't know where you at or what you call yourself doing, but if you don't get back to the headquarters I'm be all in yo' shit like Steve Wilkos.

Play with me.

Folks runnin' around here, yapping at the mouth talmbout my Tee-Tee finna up and quit.

Is Beyonce ready to retire?

The diva is currently working on a new album, but her cousin Angelica Knowles tells our source that it will be her last. Instead, Beyonce plans to spend her days scouting talent for new hubby Jay-Z's upcoming label, The Carter Music Group.

Beyonce's first protege is rumored to be an R&B artist named Chelsea Thomas. Her reps couldn't be reached for comment.

SOURCE

Let me go on record as saying:

-This is the first time me or any other Knowles/Dereon/Carter/Smith/Rowland affiliates have heard this news. So you know what that means.

-If she were to quit, she'd throw a humongous party/concert/wig convention first. It would be held on Mars and the after party would be in a parallel universe. You'd need to ride the Space Shuttle to get there but you'd have to get your own ride home. They'd serve plenty of gumbo but make you sign a waiver before you eat it in case you found stray wig hairs, flies, or Millie's toe nails in yo' soup and try to sue.

-If any of the Undesirables, Lil' Rock and/or Lil' T.I. showed up they'd be SOS'd. Shot on sight.

And futhermore, who is Angelica?

This kid:

Lately, a pimp has been getting a helluva 'lotta flack from his peeps. Why? Because I been so tight-lipped 'bout my Tee-Tee's wedding. Folks be running up to me asking questions like: "Baby Daniel, what color was the dress?" "Baby Daniel, what song did they have to first-dance of off at the reception" "Baby Daniel, was Mama Tina really so sloppy drunk that she slapped the fire out of LaTavia for sneezing during the exchanging of vows"

Answers: Freakum beige. Tootsie Roll. And HELL YEAH!

But for my peoples still left in the dark, it went a lil' something like this:

12 NOON - Beyoncé arrives at the venue.

12:26 PM - Jay-Z arrives at the venue smelling like Armadale & Newports. Matthew requested that the guest please excuse this because they were just getting back from the bachelor party.

12:34 PM - Granny burns Millie with a cigarette for asking can she go to the bathroom when she was supposed to be on wig brushing duty.

1:06 PM - Solange is frantically dialing every number in her Samsung B'Phone trying to call Kizzy (who was AWOL). She even calls Lumidee (remember her) and cusses her out for having a Rhianna callback tone. Don't nobody got time to "Mamasay Mamasah Mama Koosa" when they trying get a signal.

1:32 PM - Pastor Gitya Munny Wright arrives and blesses the altar with his holy annoitnedness. He then sees one of the bridesmaids and demand that she "drop and give him fifty"

1:33 PM - One bridesmaid quits on the spot claiming the Pastor told her to "put her right hand in the air, put the left one in her underwear and tickle her cat".

2:03 PM - The church starts to fill as guest arrive. I, Baby Daniel, had to be there fashionably late so people could see the new spinners I bought for my tricycle. I enter the church and start to fulfill my usher/ringbearer duties.

2:10 PM - Usher shows up and replaces me as the head usher.

2:12 PM - I phone Brooklyn Beckham and Jaden Smith (Will Smith's son) and tell them to egg Usher's car before the ceremony is over with.

2:15 PM - Granny comes down the aisle wearing her turquoise/lemon-lime freakum short set and her Applebottom Jeans and boots with the fur. The whole congregation was looking at her. She sat in the front pew. Next thang we knew... she turned to Jay's family and said fuck you and you and you and you and you and you etc.

2:30 PM - The organ begins to play the wedding march.

2:36 PM - Zahara comes down the aisle throwing rose petals.

2:37 PM - Millie comes down the aisle throwing maple leaf branches.

2:38 PM - LaTavia comes down the aisle tossing cactus parts.

2:40 PM - Grandady throws his left Stacy Adam at LaTavia for poking him with a cactus "accidentally".

36 seconds later - Kizzy shows up with a bottle of Mad Dog in a brown paper bag wearing a tye-dye tube top singing "Stop In The Name of Love". I "quietly escort her back into the wig crypt. See what happens when you let laborers out.

I sorta fell asleep in Granny's lap afterwards. By the time I woke up Tee-Tee was already at the altar wearing a veil that was appropriate sized to cover her head but too short to cover her wig. The nuptials and vows and what-have-you's took place here. Tee-Tee said something about brushing Uncle Jay's fur everyday and how much she was gone love him until the end of time. She even broke out into song. Uncle Jay said something about buying her a lifetime supply of Popeye's and hitting her with that camel hump on the daily. I still don't know what that means.

And there you have it. Any questions?

So I'm at my Tee-Tee and Unc's funer... wedding. I meant wedding. And everything was going smooth...

Up until the point where I had to cut the shit outta Superhead? No not like that. Even if I didn't think she had cooties (b/c she totally does) I wouldn't go anywhere near her to "cut". What I mean is I literally cut her. Bitch stood up on the "if anyone think there's any reason this couple should not wed part" she gone stand up and bring up Uncle Joe's illegitimate churren. I dragged her by her Yaki and beat her ass down the church steps. Bitch spit on me. I don't want what she got. So I cut her ass.

Problem with it?

I mean, I didn't come to the wedding to act no fool. I was just bearing the ring and then I was gone get busy at the reception. But now... I gotta go to trial. Excuse me while I hustle up the rest of this bail money for my money. Y'all know she ain't making no real money no way.

My girl is a dime piece right?

The chick in the pink. That's my main thang right there. The girl in the back with the stanky dreads, she my sideline. I holla at her when my main thang ain't acting right. The lil' white girl... she mad 'cause I stopped calling her.

Big shouts to Tee-Tee for doing me this favor and hooking my chicks up with a photo shoot.

Momma! I can't bump this in my Big Wheel? What I look like coming to the playground holla'n 'bout some "running me, running me, down"... when Dreamgirls dropped they clowned the hell outta me. Now I gotta relive it. I ain't saying it's wack now. It is different from the mess on the radio nowadays (a thug can only crank that shoe polish remover so much)... BUT... Nevermind. I've said too much already.

Let a thug know what y'all think... Talk ya noise.

PS

Pharrell, when y'all gone come through the studio and lay a track down with me for my album.

Why the freak was I not alerted of this nonsense. According to my Ex-Bust It Baby, Fresh the dookie-breath medical team that came to see 'bout my Granny is full of shit. They act like my Granny wasn't sick or something. Short of breath? High blood pressure? Wig falling out? Y'all better do something to help her. AND QUICK TOO. Before I start pistol whipping lames. Talmbout it wasn't so serious that they had to rush her to the hospital. What kinda tomfuckery is this?

I'm so mad, I won't attempt to find a pic to complete this post. I'm emotional right now so don't expect to see me on the playground tomorrow.