Yours Truly

The-Dream Shuts it Down, Then Puts it Down

Last time I saw my homie Kells was at his cousin’s wedding. It was kinda like that “cold-ass weddin’” that Cedric the Entertainer described in Kings of Comedy. The flower girl was tossing around grape pop-rocks instead of rose petals and people were picking them up and eating them. I heard one of the grandfathers yell, “These flowers keep pokin’ my mouth!” The couple walked down the aisle to “Mama’s Song” by Boyz II Men, which made no sense, and the pastor recited verses from the Bible with a cigar in his mouth. Kells was in the wedding party on the bride’s side and he was one of 3 people that were crying during the vows. He’s an emotional dude so that didn’t come as a surprise to me. What was surprising was seeing him sway back and forth, fists clenched, mumbling words like he was reciting prayers in church but after closer study, I realized that he was actually mouthing the words to “I Believe I Can Fly.” I slipped out the side door and almost fell over laughing. Fucking genius.At the reception, I met some of the family – such a loving group of people. Everyone was dancing, laughing, drinking and eating. I ate way too much food. No, it wasn’t barbecue, you dick. I had a breaded Cornish game hen with some sort of crisp, yet airy, cake-like bread, and a maple dipping sauce. Shit was bomb. But, the real fun came with the drinking. Some time between dinner and the Electric Slide, I walked up to the back bar to order my fourth or fifteenth St. Ides. And that’s when it happened. That’s when I met The-Dream.Now, if you’re not familiar with The-Dream, you actually are and just don’t realize it yet. He wrote “Umbrella” for Rihanna. That shit was huge! He also released one of the dopest hip-hop/R&B albums of the decade just last year. Love vs. Money changed my life. I bought a bottle of Andre, shook it up, and sprayed it all over the crowd at a club. I walked into a Louis Vuitton store and browsed around for hours. I almost bought something. I called up a girl and talked smoothly, only asking questions like, “Whatchu doin’ right now, sweet thang?” She thought someone was crank calling her from my phone and hung up. But still, it felt right. I felt like I was me. That’s the kind of music The-Dream makes – music that tickles your soul, makes you giggle a bit, then jump out to see the world. He’s got a new album, Love King that just dropped hard, so when I saw him standing at the bar, I got super excited and cried.The-Dream turned to me and said, “I wish you were a woman so I would care more about this question, but why you cryin’ dude?” He had a soft voice and it sounded like he was singing when he spoke.I didn’t even realize I was crying. I said, “Nah, nah man. I wasn’t. I was just…”" – Don’t trip G” Actually singing this time, he said, “These weddin’s are like lemonade – no sugar. They make your eyes water.” Somehow he made ‘sugar’ and ‘water’ rhyme. Damn, he’s good. And, I recognized those long stretches for similes in his lyrics. It was comforting to know that they’re not just on paper, but are actually used in his real life – a real-life bad poet.”What are you doing here, The-Dream?” I asked.”I’m here for love,” he confidently replied, like all of those contestants on VH1′s dating shows.”Oh, well that’s nice. Here to witness the celebration of love,” I said smiling.He looked at me with the most confused look on his face and shook his head. “Nah man. I’m here to find three girls to take home and make love to.”“Oh, well that’s cool too. You’re just going to take three girls home and have sex with them?” I casually asked.He sang, “One in the kitchen and two in the bed. Like a Daddy Long Leg, eight legs I’m gonna spread.”I was confused. “Wait, you said eight legs.”"Yeah. So what?” he snapped, a little bit irritated with my questioning.”Well, you bang one in the kitchen – .”" – I make love to her in the kitchen,” he asserted.”Right, you make love to one in the kitchen and then you make love to two of them in the bed. But, you said eight legs, which would make four girls, right?”He looked at me as if I was stupid. “I’m a married man, son. You think my wife’s gonna let me bang 3 chicks without her?”"Oh, okay. Gotcha. Class. Moving on, I gotta tell you that track you did with Drake,Shut It Down is so ill. It’s incredible.”Instead of acknowledging my compliment with a ‘thank you’ or something normal, he started to sing the song. I softly laughed a little bit, thinking it was a joke, but he continued to sing. I looked around to see if anyone was noticing this, but the DJ was spinning Juvenile so everyone was on the dance floor. Not only did he sing all of his parts, but he sung all of Drake’s parts as well. I stood there for 7 whole fucking minutes, listening to his entire a capella version of the song. I can’t describe to you how awkward it was.I stopped paying attention towards the end of it and was fixated on the ass-shaking happening on the dance floor. As I was smiling, I turned back toward The-Dream and saw that he was waiting for my reaction. I looked around a little bit, just to see if he was staring at someone else. Although confused, I started applauding him. Then he smiled and nodded his head.”That was good. I’m actually torn between that jam and ‘Put It Down‘ as my favorite song by you.”He started singing that one.”Please don’t,” I timidly begged.He mad-dogged me hard for an entire minute. But, he has a bit of a baby face, so he looked more like a baby pit bull begging for scraps. Still, I didn’t want to upset him so I was worried. But, after that entire minute of silent staring, out of nowhere, he yelled, “Radio Killah!” and then asked me if I wanted another St. Ides.”Sure, I’ll take one. Let me ask you a question though,” I said as we grabbed three St. Ides from the bartender, one for him and two for me. “What do the terms ‘shut it down” and “put it down” mean? Like, what’s the difference between the two?”He smiled as if he had been waiting for someone to ask him that all his life.He responded in song. “When I say ‘put it down,’ I tell the haters don’t come around. Like Bozo, you’s a clown. You can call me Ali, the way I’ll knock your ass out.”I stared at him blankly. “With all due respect, The-Dream, I have no clue what you just said.”He didn’t respond – just continued his R&B-style explanation. “But when I say ‘shut it down,’ like in my song “Shut It Down,” call me Ali, the way I knock that ass down.”Again, blank stares. I sighed. “First of all, you rhymed ‘shut it down’ with ‘shut it down.” I raised my eyebrows at him, as if to ask what he was thinking, but he gave me the same response, as if to ask why I was even questioning it. “Okay. Second, you, um……well, then you just don’t make sense at all. Simple as that.”"That’s the beauty of it,” he nonchalantly replied.I couldn’t decide if he was retarded or a genius. “Well, either way, I can see why you’re boys with Kells.”"Who’s Kells?” he asked, confused.”Kells. R. Kelly. That’s why you’re here, right?”“That muthafucka’s here?” he said, seeming to be a little upset.”Yeah, this is his cousin’s wedding. I figured that’s why you came.”"I told you I was here for love. Where’s that muthafucka Kells? Mofucka owes me a swimmin’ pool.” He stomped off past me to try and track down Kells. I took another swig of St. Ides and turned around to watch him walk off. I yelled, “Hey The-Dream!” He stopped and turned around to look at me, but didn’t say anything. I hesitated for a moment, but then yelled, “Radio Killah!”He stared at me for a bit and I think he was debating whether or not to respond. Then he yelled, “It’s the R&B Gorilla!” smiled, and turned back around to hunt down Kells.I turned to the bartender and, before I could say anything, he said, “Two more St. Ides?”I pointed at him and said, “You know it.”

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