Man I’ve always felt bad for Nick Cannon. Poor Nick Cannon. He summed it up perfectly: “collateral damage.” Nick Cannon was one of the most brutal cases of collateral damage in rap history. I mean this guy Nick Cannon just wanted to marry the woman of his dreams. The love of his life. His queen. And like 30 seconds into the marriage he’s got the most vicious diss track rapper of all time playing her phone sex voicemails and talking about cumming on her stomach and watching it curdle while she puked. That’s just wrong man. And when he says he and Luis were putting their “CDs” in her “slot”? They’re talking about their dicks bro. They both had their penises in your wife, at the same time, is what they’re saying. Horrible.
I mean the hardest part of a new relationship is trying not to think about all the guys who have already banged her before you. If you’re super secure with yourself you’ll get over it pretty quickly, or else you just gotta go all-in on the ignorance is bliss approach and convince yourself she’s a virgin who has been saving herself for you, and only you. Resist the urge to scroll through the old Facebook albums and read into every arm-touch. You get there eventually.
What you don’t have to deal with is the most popular rapper on the planet telling his 1 billion fans worldwide about how he nutted early on your wife ’cause he ejaculated prematurely and busted all over her belly and she almost started hurlin’and said he was gross, go get a towel, her stomach’s curlin’.
So what did Nick do when he heard that? What any self respecting man would do: called every manager he knew to try and track him down and kick the shit out of him.
Well actually, no, the first thing he did was probably the most Nick Cannon thing ever: he wrote a letter.
“I wrote a letter first…I wrote this long ass letter saying I respect you as an artist, I’m a fan, you one of the best to ever do it, but from man to man, you talkin out of pocket to my wife, you gotta be held accountable – I need to see you face to face. Face to face, let’s get to it. Whatever happens when we face to face? Happens.
Writing letters really is a lost art.
But THEN, AFTER the letter, he did the self-respecting man thing:
“I went lookin for him…I called managers…50’s manager….If I need to come to Detroit, you done disrespected my wife – I gotta show my wife I’m a man! He said my name…I know I ain’t gon outrap you, but I will whoop yo ass!
…They like to build up these superhero characters, but if you ever seen Marshall Mathers in person, he’s not someone who looks like he really want the smoke with most.”
Good. Good for him. He SHOULD want to punch Eminem’s nose through the back of his skull. He should stand up for his woman. And he should stand up for himself. He got name checked 7 times in the song. He got called the F word! What was he supposed to do, say thank you sir, thank you Mr. Mathers, you’re right, my wife really is a whore, sir?
As if I didn’t already respect Nick Cannon from “Drumline,” his response to The Warning just made me even more.
When a honky rapper calls your wife a slut-bitch-cunt who made him put up with her psycho ass for 6 months but only spread her legs to let him hit once, so you call up the boys to take care of business, street style:
T.I. had the sneaky highlight of this whole thing:
“That Mariah pussy…wooooooooE that shit BITIN’!”