Best Radio Station (2005)
It costs only around $10,000 to buy a transmitter, wire an antenna atop the Norfolk Island pine in your front yard, and transmit your jams to the world. But the FCC will hit you with a $100,000 fine if they catch you. So you've got to admire the tenacity of our local pirate/underground stations, whose proprietors risk ruin to bring you the finest in gangsta/crunk. When your boy Mark T. and his crusty partner-in-crime, Smiley, start kickin' it, good times follow. Listeners from the nine-five-fo', the three-oh-five, and the five-six-one flood the station's telephone lines nightly, calling to participate in a "freestyle session" in which amateur rappers test their flowage. Mark either gives participants a thumbs-up ("You were fingerin' the beat; it sound good!") or shuts 'em down hard ("Aw, you got played! I ain't feeling that. Keep your day job!"). It's unmediated, raw, and totally live.