“So Warren, what happened last night?”
“Well, I was riding around town and happened upon a game of chance. Now I’ve never been able to turn down a dice game, so I decided to play for a bit. However, upon my arrival, some of the tough youth produced firearms.”
“Goodness! Nate, where were you when this all took place?”
“Well, driving through the city in an attempt to find Mr. Warren G., I encountered a sedan absolutely packed to the brim with young, seductive women. Now that situation isn’t a foreign one to a member of 213, so I continued my search, only to find Warren in a bit of a pickle!”
“I’ll say! Warren, what happened next?”
“I can honestly say that the event in question was one of the darker experiences in my life. They were absolute savages! They proceeded to take my rings AND my Rolex!”
“Not the Submariner!”
“Indeed.”
“And Nate, what were you thinking, coming across this ghastly scene?”
“Well, years of gang affiliation has left me with above-average tactical skills in the urban environment. Upon doing some light reconnaissance, it became apparent that rather than try and engage them one-on-one, I would have to pull out my strap and lay them busters down.”
“Fascinating.. Now Warren, I know that your emotions must have been running high. If it’s not too much of a burden on you, can you walk us through what you were feeling?”
“I-I-I…”
*pauses, then regains composure*
“They had a gun to my head. I thought I was going down, no lie. In my line of work, death is a constant presence. Yet, you never consider that it can happen in your own town.
*pauses again*
They say a man becomes self-actualized in the moment before he dies. Not sure how true that is, but I can tell you that I visualized growing a pair of wings and flying away from the entire situation…Did either of you ever hear that song “I Keep Forgetting” by Michael McDonald?”
“Naw, not familiar”
“I remember it, why do you ask”
“This may sound weird, but I heard it in my head during the whole ordeal. Anyway, I got off topic. So, I’m kneeling there. Out of the corner of my eye, I see someone approaching us and reaching towards his waist.”
“And that mystery person was you, Nate?”
“Wasn’t nothing mysterious about that shit, man. I was about to make some bodies turn cold.”
*Warren and Nate break into laughter*
“Nah, but for real, I shot a few of them.”
“So then what happened?”
“Well, after fleeing the scene, I was in no mood for anything other than a cold St. Ides and to listen to Pioneer speakers bumpin’ while we smoked on a pound, but Nate had other ideas.”
“Oh?”
“Hell yeah! Remember that car of girls I was talking about earlier? Well, I told Warren about them and we drove back down that street and they were still there! So we pull up offerin’ them some help. One of them comes over, real beautiful Puerto Rican chick, says her cars broke down and we seem real nice…can they ride with us?”
*Nate nudges Warren, both start snickering to themselves*
“Yeah, so these girls know what the drill is. The next stop?”
*Warren looks at Nate, who smiles huge*
“was the East-siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide…”
*finishes the sentence* “MOTE-LLLLLLL-ELL-ELLLLLLL”
*Everyone laughs*
“Wow. Just wow. That has to be one of the more interesting artist profiles I’ve ever done. Now, tell us about your sound a bit more. What exactly IS G-Funk?”
“I’m happy you asked that. (To Nate) See, didn’t I tell you he was paying attention? Listen man, G-Funk is funk, but on a whole new level.”
“The rhythm is the bass, and the bass is the treble”
“We’re talking chords. We’re talking strings. We’re talking MELODY. I was telling Nate the other day, that if G-Funk were a corporation, it’s motto would be “Where rhythm is life, and life is rhythm”
“That’s pretty passionate. Whoops! I’m getting the high sign that we have to go. Before we leave, is there anything you two would like to say?”
“Yeah man. G-Funk. Step to this, I dare ya.”
“No doubt. Also, if yo ass is a busta, 213 WILL regulate”
“Fantastic. Ladies and Gentlemen, Warren G and Nate Dogg!”
*standing ovation, hoots and cheers*
