DMX is going HAM on that other Earl Simmons over his whole child support saga. A pap caught up with DMX yesterday and threw a bunch of questions at him regarding his other namesake.
One of DMX baby mama hit the rapper, whose real name is Earl Simmons with a paternity test. The problem is the legal docs ended up in the wrong hands, another man with the same name living in Massachusetts.
Related: DMX Post Prison Interview, “I’m Just A Misunderstood Sincere Guy”
DMX admitted the kids are his but still asking the other Simmons to ante up child support. Jokingly of course.
“Why he ain’t in jail yet?” the rap legend asked. “‘Cause he clearly hasn’t paid so Earl Simmons, pay that mother*****g money. If he wants to pay some extra money, let him pay it. I’ll give him free tickets to a concert.”
It’s always funny to watch DMX speak. We could do this all day but sadly the video is only a minute and eighteen seconds long.
DMX is the letter D, the high sweeping half-moon scraping across the sky of a dark nighted mind of … cratered light synesthesiating the taste of polychlorinated biphenyls, …
DMX is the letter D, the high sweeping half-moon scraping across the sky of a dark nighted mind of a strange dream, where the moon is seen in impossible positions, facing the wrong way, violating the laws of physics, but still as you see it…you hear its wan and cratered light synesthesiating the taste of polychlorinated biphenyls, locking your skull into a barbituated thrall focusing upwards at this lofty but oddly placed half-moon. And then the man-in-the-moon is indeed seen to be the rapper reflecting down upon the night his time of greatest powers, the moonish days of his early career, when he was a deadly doodlebug dawg, rarin to emasculate his rivals.
emasculate his rivals.
emasculate his rivals.
emasculate his rivals.
emasculate his rivals.
emasculate his rivals.
DMX is the letter D, the high sweeping half-moon scraping across the sky of a dark nighted mind of a strange dream, where the moon is seen in impossible positions, facing the wrong way, violating the laws of physics, but still as you see it…you hear its wan and cratered light synesthesiating the taste of polychlorinated biphenyls, locking your skull into a barbituated thrall focusing upwards at this lofty but oddly placed half-moon. And then the man-in-the-moon is indeed seen to be the rapper reflecting down upon the night his time of greatest powers, the moonish days of his early career, when he was a deadly doodlebug dawg, rarin to emasculate his rivals.
emasculate his rivals.
emasculate his rivals.
emasculate his rivals.
emasculate his rivals.
emasculate his rivals.
He has friends in high places, why don’t they pool $ together to help him out?