- by Kat Brown
- Thursday, April 12, 2007
- filed in: Hip Hop
As if the transformation of two of the world’s squarest singers into writhing little fuckbeasts wasn’t unnerving enough, the fact that their Svengali has managed the opposite feat on himself makes the mind go a bit wibbly. Groaning like Fiddy with piles, Timbaland succeeds in creating an instant zone out from his rapping. He could be reciting a shopping list for all we know. Ooh yes, imagine that, and Nelly and Justin’s dutiful witterings are probably offering to run the limo through the carwash while he picks up some Hovis. Having worked miracles everywhere else, it’s incredibly unfortunate that Timbaland seems incapable of working the same on himself. Maybe get The Neptunes in next time, hey?
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