Small Pro sagely declared: there are two kinds of people in the world—those who know "Black & Yellow" by heart, and those who know "Black & Brown" by heart. Not to disparage Wiz Khalifa’s ode to Cliquot and yellow diamonds, but its intentions are clear—fluorescent pop-rap for the charts, steel city rap turned soft and colorful as a care bear.
That transformation doesn’t fly in Detroit. The gravity and cold are omnipresent and no one’s cars are getting hover conversions any time soon. Like their names and the song’s title, Black Milk and Danny Brown are all earth-tones, somber menace, and "blades on me homie, mask on me like Shinobi." With its kick-in-the-door Dilla drums and swooning Mafia strings that sound like he stuck up the RZA for his record collection, Black Milk creates the blueprint for the plot, but Danny Brown is all execution.
Gotty transcribed the lyrics for me and as witty as Brown’s punchlines are, you need to hear them delivered. Brown raps like Ryu, a sturdy but agile flurry of roundhouse kicks and fireballs. More than just technical skill, he’s full of odd character details. Eating on pierogis, dropping old Noreaga ad-libs, references to arcane Nintendo games, and smoking weed out of turkey bags. Even if the rest of the world doesn’t know it yet, Danny Brown is a star. If you never knew me, then you’ll probably never know me…
Black Milk & Danny Brown - Black & Brown