Boosie, Bomaye!

Setting dope moments in history to hood classics, old and new.

Everyone knows Muhammad Ali was a bad motherfucker.

Still, we don’t give the champ enough credit for losing years of his prime over his refusal to enlist.

In ‘67, Ali was stripped of his title for refusing to enter the draft, citing religious reasons and dropping the classic bar “I ain’t got no quarrel with them Viet Cong. No Viet Cong ever called me nigger.”

He had his license stripped, was fined $10,000 and was sentenced to five years in prison by an all white jury.

The ruling was overturned in 1971, and after two classic fights with the great Joe Frazier, Ali regained his title, as he KO’d noted grill enthusiast George Foreman in the eight round.

If you’re anything like me, you spent more money on Clue and Whoo Kid mixtapes than lunch and haircuts during high school. If this is true, I know you’re wondering:

What ghetto shit would best accompany this bit of history?

Wonder no more, fam.

I struggled a lot with this pick. Before I settled on it, there was the obvious choice, and this choice. While they’re both great songs, of all of the songs that probably capture much of what Ali felt, Boosie’s is the best pick.

Ali was born and raised in Louisville, and did a ton of training in Florida. He was a country boy, through and through. Boosie is a legend south of the Mason-Dixon; he’s never got to do another show north of Virginia to keep food on the table and gold in the grill. Not only that, the legal case against him was extremely iffy, as it relied heavily on some questionable tactics employed by a shaky informant. Most importantly, if you sent Ali to the barber and faded his sides down, he’d have orignated the Boosie fade.

Ali got his spot back and Boosie’s back home, free to get the ladies jiggalatin’.

That’s justice, bruh.