The Bolton Boys
Hip Hop
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"I want them chicken titties in my mouf big mama! "
ATLANTA, GEORGIA
United States
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Last Login:
11/17/2008
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| The Bolton Boys: General Info
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| Member Since | 6/12/2005 | | Band Members | Lil' Bigs: producer, m.c., Casio cl 700, Alesis 16, lyrics on "bumfight" and some on "matrix".
Basehead Fred: Lyrics, m.c.
Shanks Akimbo: guest beatbox, spiritual guidence
Big Veg: executive producer | | Influences | first and firstmost god and the little baby jesus in dat manager full of hay, the fat boys, mario andretti, jesus, jones, mizz buttersworth, basehead fred and lil' biggs, moms, your mama's pussy, yo' daddy's ass crack cracker ass cracker, cracker, piggly wiggly, uncle george down there at that stop and shop on chesire bridge, canker bill, big fruity, roughhouse, T.T., juicy, wobble wobble, bim bam, my baby cousin wee wee, pootie, franky D'wan, queshawna and her sister carole, sugar pussy, "climax max", jelly bone, thumbnail jackson down at the train station, foo man tooth, big pimp trevor, benadryl benny, dimatap daryl, G.G. pootstank and her magic stinkhole, and last bust not last---God. | | Sounds Like | You know dat time last summer when fruity got the hem'roids real bad and he was laid up behind the QT for four days with nothin' to eat but some rocks and some little debby cakes? we sound like how he was moanin' all the time. --Basehead Fred //
You know that time last summer when bunkey tha thumbs was all like "i'm gonna dodge that train" an i was all "NOOOOOOO lifes too bolton!!!" but he did it anyway. than his ass got hit and like magic all his loose change and his one gold toof landed in my pocket. we sound like that kind of magic...
-Lil' Bigs | | Record Label | puddin hero records | | Type of Label | Indie |
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| About The Bolton Boys |
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Truth (chroof) n. the ability to not tell a lie.
Adj. the act of being honest
a fact
One doesn’t need “Webster’s” dictionary to come up with the perfect decription of them. One might, however, need “Arnold Drummond’s” thesaurus to even begin to try to attempt to outrhyme and outwit the phenomenon that is the Bolton Boys. A rap group that went from rags to bags to Wal Mart spinner mags all in the span of 5 months. Their story is one of inspiration, integrity and sheer unbelievability that is reminiscent of stories of lore.
In a decade when people had lofty aspirations of becoming lawyers or attorneys or doctors, the Bolton Boys has visions and premonitions of finding a pot of gold. Pot being bag. Gold being $100,000 in cash. Yet, what they decided to do with that money would forever etch their names in the history books in many childrens’ dreams for days to come. Here, is how it all began…
Lil Biggs was born Lillian Biggstein, a simple Semite from a lower middle class family in Home Park, a quaint neighborhood in Atlanta. Lillian used to get his kicks playing kickball with ten year olds in a vacant lot next to his house on Hampton St. The children used to make fun of Lillian. Not just because he was terrible at kickball, even for a 26 year old. They would also make fun of his big nose. Lillian decided then and there that he was meant for more in this world. Lillian proceeded to beat the crap out of all those kids in a unique way. With each punch to the face he would come up with a free versed rhyme, punctuated with a “douche”. That is how they mimic punching sounds in the hood. They say douche. 3 and a half hours later, Lillian was victorious and told the 4 brats, “scram!” Thus, Lil Biggs was born. His friend, confidant, pal, what have you, was not far off. In fact he was just at the bus stop, taking notes.
Freddie McAllister was homeless and had been since birth. His talents before teaming up with Lil consisted of knowing the best overpasses to live under and the quickest soup lines. He also knew how to freebase just about every drug under the sun. He would even freebase cough drops in times of dire straights. Whe Freddie (or Basehead Fred as he became know in certain circles) met Lil, he talked him into living the swank lifestyle of homelessness in all it’s sophistication and grandeur. Being so close or below rock bottom was appealing to Lil so he packed his bags, left them at his parents home and set out for eventual blindly lucky stardom, the hard way.
After 5 months of living under the I 85 overpass near the I 75 split, Lil and BHF had both been struck in the head at the same time (while sleeping together for warmth) by a bag someone apparently thrown from a car overneath them. They couldn’t believe it themselves what they discovered it had exactly $100,000 in it. Immediately they spent a grand on crack. Then the remaining 99 thousand was spent on a state of the art mobile recording studio in an old school bus.
Being mobile was essential to capturing the essence of their songs. If “Burger King” had been written in some fancy, Jermaine Dupree approved lab like Patchwerk, it wouldn’t have had the cred, the gritty, greasy feel that it actually had. It’s as if the song were written right there in the deep fryer. What no one knows until now because you’re reading this is that the song was actually about an incident that happened in Krystal, a tiny burger joint in the image of Whitecastle. When they were signed to Jef Dam Records by up and coming producer Rustelle Simonizzle, Rustelle decided that Burger King had more pop and snap to it. Rustelle was also under contract with Krystal to do commercials for them and didn’t want to get sued.
Times weren’t always paved with gold for the Bolton Boys. In addition to constant harassment from Michael Bolton to change their names, Lil Biggs was getting a lot of flack about his sexual orientation. This plus his desire to separate himself from his resemblance to his father, CSPAN C.E.O. Herb Biggstein, led to Lil getting the first in a long series of nose jobs. He also had a pact and signed contract with his penis that stipulates that it only be inserted in vaginas.
Most record label big-wigs would poo poo the blatant use of drugs by their talent. Not Rustelle. A 23 time failed rehabber himseld, Rustelle embraced and encouraged the use and abuse. This allowed Basehead Fred to finally be able to afford only the best aluminum foil and crack. He also found that when he couldn’t find any crack he found himself in search of finding the dopest rhymes which was really unfounded until he actually would find some crack. “Found it!” he would exclaim.
The multi album rap group took the nation by storm. The hooky melodies and miraculously rhymable prose produced eventually by Lil Biggs himself put the in the top tier in the lower rung of the overly saturated ladder of life that is what we still today call…rap. They began to influence the very artists they themselves could not even afford to listen to just months ago. Neptunes producer-whore, Pharrelle was quoted in Jet as saying, “..them cats can rhyme, dog.” Dr. Dre at the Soul Train awards shocked the world by saying, “ …They be all sprayin’ shit an’ fo’ sho’ thems be all like, ‘yo, we flossin’ An it’s bangin’, son. It’s bangin’.”
Even I could not have said it better myself. Sure, these aren’t real white thugs from Florida spittin’ bout ice and shit. And they certainly aren’t three crackers from NYC whinin’ in a shrill voice ‘bout waffle bats an’ beer. They’s real cats with a real message fo’ y’all. Pull out!! Cuz it’s hella more street to nut on her face than on her cervix!! And that’s a fact.
Liner notes by fellow muti albumselling rapper….
…Dr M.C. Boo Boo McBleckinfleck III
“peace!”
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