GZA has one of the largest vocabularies in hip-hop. A 2014 analysis found 6,426 unique words across his first 35,000 lyrics, ranking him #2 among the artists studied.
Y el Team de lujo que me acompañó, mi carnal @bekaesh eres un máquina, siempre un honor trabajar contigo y @jaimemellado_ wow! Durísimo hermano, lo dejaste todo 🫡 Máximo Respeto
Millones de gracias a todos por los mensajes de cariño 🥹❤️
@bekaesh y @SerkoFu son unos putos animales de presentadores y me lo han puesto muy muy fácil.
He acabado sin voz pero con el carazón llenito. Como siempre @IbaiLlanos es la puta cabra y se supera año tras año 🐐
¡Wow! Aún procesando lo de ayer, La Velada del Año ¡literal! Que energía, que pedazo de evento, gracias infinitas a @IbaiLlanos a los competidores y a todo el equipo que lo hace posible 🫡 ¡Felicidades! #LaVeladaDelAño6
USA. A Mexican restaurant. We had not yet ordered anything, and the food was already arriving.
Chips. Salsa. Unrequested. Free.
I stopped the waiter. "We have not earned these."
"They just come with the table, man."
They come with the TABLE. In my land, hospitality is a debt. Every gift creates an obligation, weighed carefully, returned in the proper season with interest of feeling. Here, the gift arrives before you have even proven you can pay for dinner.
This is not an appetizer. This is a declaration: we trust you. Eat.
I ate with the gravity the moment deserved. And then — I must report this calmly — the basket emptied, and a new one appeared.
"Did we…?"
"Refill," the waiter said. "It's bottomless."
Bottomless. They have wells of salsa. The supply lines of this nation are beyond anything my ancestors imagined.
My friend warned me. "Don't fill up on chips, dude."
Too late. I had accepted three baskets. Honor demanded each one be finished — an unfinished gift is an insult. By the time my actual food arrived, I was a ruined man.
I was not hungry. I was not comfortable. I had been defeated by a courtesy.
Generosity that arrives before the request cannot be repaid. It can only be survived.
I know the rule now. I have made my peace with the basket. One basket. Two at the most.
Who am I deceiving. There is no number of baskets I would refuse. The trust of a nation is in that salsa, and I intend to honor all of it.
Rob Base owned the summer of 1988. The music was undeniable If there's a Mount Rushmore of early foundational Harlem recording artists, he's on there without question. The physical is temporary but the music is eternal. RIP Rob Base. 🕊️