Sullee and the White Rapper Show at the Greatest Bar

We’re tired already of those vapid hacks on MTV’s I’m From Rolling Stone — y’know, the rockwrite kids who’ve never heard of Roskilde, who don’t know who George Clinton is, and who pepper their prose with phrases like “cherub-faced scenester.” Joe Levy and that double-stuffed suit Jann Wenner can have ‘em.

For our money (which, granted, there’s not a lot of) the best music-themed reality show going airs a notch or two up the dial on VH-1. ego trip’s The (White) Rapper Show is a funny, unpretentious blend of low-brow humor and serious questions about race and rap. And its contestants, living together in the South Bronx are more compelling and likeable — by far — than the wannabes dwelling in midtown corridors of power.

There’s Brit bombshell Misfit Dior; drunk-punk good ol’ boy 100 Proof; Dirty South spitter $hamrock; pint-sized Vanilla Ice fan G-Child; brassy Rockaway queen Persia, and ever-so-slightly-insane John Brown (King of the Burbs, yo! Ghetto revival!).

And of course there’s our boy Sullee, who, three episodes in, is doing as well as we ever could’ve hoped — and not just because he managed Young Heff his way into the lower bunk with Misfit (who was booted off the show at the end of episode two).

Just prior to that sad turn of events, the Hingham rhyme slinger was forced into an elimination challenge that asked him to freestyle some verses poking fun at himself.

He killed it. Removing a gold tooth for dramatic effect, he stepped forward and let fly:

Sullee a grown man, even though he act childish.
Got a big dick: three inches, that’s huge to the Irish
Ballin’ chicks without a condom, just realized now that’s a problem
Go to take a shower, my dick starts dissolvin’
Yo, I just keep it real
I slept with Misfit for three nights ain’t even closed the deal!
Anyway, what can I say
I guess I like it the raw way
Someday I’ll learn my lesson, but that day is far like Rockaway

Also sprach Prince Paul: “Sullee nailed it point blank.”

Last week, however, was not so smooth. Our man’s team lost a Family Feud style game show about racial stereotypes, and he was this compelled to do the winning team’s laundry while the victors supped and sipped with Juelz Santana.

Later that night, it was down to the wire again. This time, facing elimination, he flubbed his verse (subject: white power). There was an agonizing, lengthy silence as he wracked his brain to find the words. To no avail.

Sage sachem MC Serch informed Sullee that he was a grave disappointment — precisely because his talent was so profound. As the young Irishman hung his head, the word came down. For this week, at least, he would be spared.

G-Child, teary-eyed, was asked to hand over her scribbled-upon sneaks. Her fellow contestants wept with her.

So now a new week and a new episode. And tonight Sullee’s namesake father, Bob Sullivan, is hosting a viewing party at the Greatest Bar downtown. In attendance, in addition to the man himself, will be past Sullee collaborators Joe Budden and Billy Squier. [Ed. note: Yes, our crack research team confirms this is merely the second time in the history of the English language that those names have ever appeared in the same sentence.]

In a recent interview with Sullee (after which our tape was eaten) he was sworn to secrecy about how far he makes it on the show, and weather or not he’s sitting silently on a cool hundred grand. Safe to assume, however, hey wouldn’t be making such a big deal tonight if this was the episode he was told by Serch to step off.

But even if/when the worst case comes to pass, Sullee’s still flossin’. He’s at work on a new album and a few mix tapes, he still keeps in touch with his friends from the show (including Misfit), and word came down today from the elder Sullivan that his son will soon be jetting off to the Far East to help judge the Miss Teen China contest.

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