If you walked by my Canton house this past weekend, chances are better than good "Purple Swag" was blaring out of the living room. Harlem's ASAP Rocky has a steady-climbing buzz thanks to a small sample of woozy, drugged-out bangers. His songs have a bender quality — the low-end knocks off a listener's equilibrium, the slow vocals swirl the mind and Rocky's assured delivery somehow stabilizes the whole thing ...
just enough
. The white girl mouthing the lyrics (including an "N" word, while golds sit on her bottom row of teeth) and a "F--- SWAG" T-shirt are discussions best left to the hip-hop pundits who get off on that sort of thing. I'm too busy vibing out over here.