“I didn’t want my enemies on the west side using my name in their lyrics, youknowwhatimsayin?” Orange asked, ignoring eyebrows that said we had no clue what he was saying. “Wiggas be thinkin’ they clever and shit. Well, I’d show those dope-ass muthafuckas … Ain’t nobody’s momma’s name rhyme with no orange, youknowwhatimsayin?”
The west side rappers MC Orange once engaged in lyrical showdowns with have all since moved on — to actual paying jobs, families, prison. These days only Von Finklesburg can be found outside the Corner Grocery waving his arms up and down, “beatboxing,” and mumbling unintelligibly into a balled up fist as microphone.
“The great ones, they always be droppin’ their own names in shit, youknowwhatimsayin?” Orange lamented. “My goal is to find a word that rhymes with orange … I used ‘blorange’ once but people were like, ‘Hold up. What the fuck is a blorange?’”
For now, the best Von Finklesburg can come up with is something along the lines of, “M to the C to the O to the R to the A to the N to the G to the E, motherfucker, THAT’S ME!”
