i, connor macloud, am pleased to deliver to the world a revolution in rap philosophy: the scottish mobb.
many of you yankee wankers believe that there is no such thing as scottish hip hop. the very thought of scots rapping away in their plaid kilts as they guzzle down their twenty-fourth beer of the day makes you giggle, does it? well, you won't be giggling no more, lads and lasses. when a seven-foot bearded rapper from space comes crashing into your club and starts throwing chairs at your googly heads, you will see that scottish hip hop is truly a force to be reckoned with. and if ye don't, plaid maggle will straight up kick yer arse.
with the power and sheer lunacy of a violent hurricane, mc's sionnach dhu and plaid maggle shred their way through thumpin' hip hop beats accompanied by traditional scottish melodies produced by esteemed masterminds of modern scottish music, mr. money madne$$ himself, karen mcdougal (playmate of the year whose career fell to a turbulent love-hate relationship with crack cocaine, found herself in scotland and started working with the scottish underground hip-hop scene for absolutely no apparent reason at all whatsoever), and yours truly, connor macloud.
we are a tribe that hails from the Shire, a self-proclaimed dangerous ghetto where wyverns and gryphons terrorize the skies and angry scottish people drink mad shit and get into fist-fights, attack unsuspecting donkeys and wreak havoc on neighboring villages and towns. people who come to the Shire run away in mere minutes, because around here, there's always someone hiding in the bushes waiting to kick someone's arse. guns, lad? what a bonnie laugh. in the Shire people eat glocks for breakfast. we'll catch your bullets with our strong, proud scottish teeth and spit them back at ye. avast, silly yankees. the battle from overseas has begun.
