Keith Bibbs

"16 Bars For 38 Stars" reveals the exciting beauty of basketball viewed through a Hip-Hop lens. This groundbreaking book is for lovers of roundball, rap music, and movies. An opus for the fans who spring out of their seats when hoopers perform that magic. Lyricism for Hip Hop fans who marvel at metaphors that make jaws drop. Bars so witty you still quote 'em years later. This is artistry brought to life with vivid and colorful wordplay that speaks to your creative soul. "16 Bars" is the intersection of Hip Hop and Hoops. Here's the roster in no particular order:

 

1. ​ JAMAL CRAWFORD                   11. CONNIE HAWKINS                     21. ROD STRICKLAND                      31. SHAWN KEMP

2.  JA MORANT                                 12. RONNIE FIELDS                          22. EARVIN JOHNSON                      32. LAMELO BALL

3.  ALLEN IVERSON                        13. ISIAH THOMAS                           23. VINCE CARTER                            33. DAMIAN LILLARD

4   JULIUS ERVING                          14. KYRIE IRVING                             24. KEVIN DURANT                          34. TIM HARDAWAY

5.  BARON DAVIS                            15. CLYDE DREXLER                        25. BILLY HARRIS                             35. SHAQUILLE O'NEAL

6.  GOD SHAMMGOD                     16. RAFER ALSTON                           26. STEPH CURRY                             36. DERRICK ROSE

7.  DOMINIQUE WILKINS              17. STEVE FRANCIS                          27. EARL MONROE                           37. KOBE BRYANT

8.  PETE MARAVICH                       18. RUSSELL WESTBROOK             28. STEPHON MARBURY                 38. MICHAEL JORDAN

9.  TRACY MCGRADY                    19. MAHMOUD ABDUL-RAUF        29. RAYMOND LEWIS

10. DONOVAN MITCHELL             20. JASON WILLIAMS                       30. BRYAN LEACH

 

-Also included are bonus bars for one of my favorite players and the "Day One" Gil's Arena crew for re-igniting my passion for the game.
 

*KLAY THOMPSON

*GILBERT ARENAS

*RASHAD MCCANTS

*KENYON MARTIN

*BRANDON JENNINGS

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Please remember, these are 38 OF the most exciting hoopers ever. I am not saying these are THE 38 most exciting hoopers ever. Although the title is "16 Bars", a bar being the length of a rap verse, it's much closer to 64+ for each man. And the bios are the exact opposite of your typically dull Wikipedia page. But don't take my word for it. Here's a snippet of Michael Jordan's and Mamba's bars, as well as sample of Ja Morant's bio. The grammar is intentionally incorrect. Talkin' my shit how we talk that good shit in the barbershops, on the courts, in the parks. On the porches, at the cook-outs, in the whips, etc. The commas are intentionally incorrectly placed in some instances. Thus, allowing everyone, while reading it, to break the bar off at the proper point and maintain the proper cadence.

 

MICHAEL "AIR" JORDAN

​

BOLOs out.

Betta know them whereabouts when that terror's out. 

Labeled "The Dark Immortal."

Struck fear of them shark dorsals.

Doing them "Mid-air impossibles."

Them bad Opps' opticals.

Flight like when Mike, was back fuckin' with follicles.

Not posters.

Prints of "God shit" from The Prince of Darkness.

Mike's dopamine for the scoring fiends.

Voorhees pedigree.

Slashing. Primal weaponry of that young Michael Jeffrey.

The G.O.A.T. God

Wet jumpers hunted by Coast Guard.

Smoked 'em Two-Guards to Dumars.

Opps talmbout, "I'm not crying. YOU are!"

"J" aiming. Dunk maiming.

MJ facing arraignments. 

Feds with RICOs on Mike, Phil and Naismith. 

Mike's "Blood Hustle."

"Hops Nosferatu." Dunks seeing red corpuscles.

Corpse hustle.

Not touching Earth. Losing the "Put 'em beneath dirt" struggle. 

The high IQ killer. The "Gym Jigsaw."

Jordan carrying 4 niggas, like Mike was rickshaws.

Middies tighter than the Saran, on that purest brick'a raw.

"Down on the Farm" SZN

Reason? He G.O.A.T. and the "Cash Cow Demon."

How Jumpman, made White men, richer than they ancestors' slaves' semen.

"All-D First Teams" suffering that Jordan fatigue.

The generations later, Jamie and Hildy Von Shaft's super seed.

Drags guards.

Past tense. Drug czar.

Plug Star. "Hook 'em up" ways.

No-look, over-the-shoulders thrown like bridal bouquets.

Air lethal as Cuban Pacino on that bad high.

Drop 40 in yo' building. "Say goodnight to the bad guy."

Chapel Hill's Chapo heel.

Driven to succeed. Chapo's will.

Bumbaclots' stomachs knot.. Ya dun know da G.O.A.T. news, mon?

Bron's "White Boy Rick" to this chocolate Joaquin Guzmán.

Rook rocking the red an' black, banned Nike tings.

Put a league on notice, "Red Bull gives you wiiiiiiiings."

Post J-5 mindset, when he set to score.

Like Mike, Mike like, "Fuck I need 4 other brothers for?"

But turned the error of his ways, into the Era of His Ways.

"If I could be like Mike", the worldwide united in its praise.

Hops went from lifting off pavement.

To cops getting "Victim statements."

Mike's Hall of Fame speech beginning ...

"This is a call from a Federal prison."

Snuffed enemies.

Cheating on Juanita. Tendency to fuck empathy.

Play son for the dunk? Same result as feeling, that "Under the titty lump."

Foolish as Mike with no pre-nup.

D-Boy with nothing for lawyers and re-ups.

Put a flamer to the city, like he Mrs. O'Leary's cow.

Teammates see the penchant for killin'. Like Easy was leery of Mouse.

A whole mystique at his peak.

Made an entire league turn the other cheek.

From baseline tomahawks, to RIP Patrick Ewing viewings.

First time Opps was heard uttering, "Oh! So that's what we doing?"

Other end, locked in. Mike made star guards bow.

Master of Champion-ships, like stern to starboard bow. 

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KOBE "BLACK MAMBA" BRYANT

Ain't sayin' he The Greatest.

But G.O.A.T. adjacent.

Hunt like Jason.

Messiah in Isolation.

The 6'6" God of Improvisation.

Jump Shot Prophet. Fuck them stoppers.

"D'd up", by helicopters just to stop him.

The non-Bron. Don't need hella rosters.

Weapon of choice that fadeaway hoist.

Mad combative.

Brashness of young Cassius.

Fadeaway smooth. Shea butter tactics.

Buffalo Kob. "It puts the lotion in the basket."

Tell Dr. James Nais., Opps need grave space.

A young cocoa Frodo, on a "Five Rings Chase."                          

Traded poster phase, for "Post up" ways.

Killed more little ones, than Roe vs Wade.                              

What Mamba done in that "1- 4 flat?"

Drake/Dot. Hate Opps. Tear-drop, face tats.

Morgue viewings.

Not humans.

His hoopin' dinner.

Mentor to them Michael B, inhuman sinners.

Fuck tryna "Slam it!"

Wanna "Son of Sam" it.

"Silence of the Lamb" it.

Queen & Slims of the gym, way them moves ran the gamut.

Opps waving off help. Ain't no accounting for brothers.

Knowing Kob's body count, topping them "Accountant" brothers.

Opps swear. Not fair. He too true a shooter.

Bodybag Job Fair. Kobe. Zip Recruiter.

"Bigs" devoured from Yao to Howard.

With malice of bigotry, savaged bigger trees.

Darkroom status? We both developing bad habits.

Him? Weakness for heater flashing, off fingertip muzzles.

Me? Smashing fat asses on them lovely weave Rapunzels.              

Opps is biker gang, vs the onyx Bronx Tale savage.

Why a muhfucka beloved, as that re-up Barksdale package.

Ayo!

81 out the Toronto Draco.

Eyeing Wilt. Surpassed using a mag and clip.

North of the Border thug. Ringo was the plug.

"I knew GODDAM WELL, Mamba was smuggling in drums!"

Laser making, "Kill that piece'a shit", Manolo sounds.

Kob put a dot on baskets, like they's OVO owls.

Footwork equivalent?

Cullinan. Onika Tanya sittin' in it.

Aesthetically pleasing.

Demon to them athletically beatens.

Testing himself in heaven. Challenging God to "Best of Sevens."

Transcendent powers.

Constantly clutch.

Constantine with a touch.

Why Jeannie Buss, greenlit The Demon Genie's bust.

Granted five "Chip wishes."

Latter-day Liston, of that "Belt To Ass" business.                  

Brushed off Irving's 1-on-1 challenge. No need to wonder why.

Liable to gone Cobra Kai, on a yung cobra Ky.

Lying cats, Kai Cenats, spinnin' them whoppers.

Twenty times, averaged 29, on the self-proclaimed Kobe Stopper.

For them GOAT convos, acronym decoded fast.

M.A.M.B.A.

Maaaaaaaan. A. Muhfucka. Betta. Ask.

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JA MORANT BIO EXCERPT

But let's hit that backstory for a minute. Ja Morant's an "Out the mud" baby from Dalzell, South Carolina. Not that "Sonny Corleone born into privilege and fulla hype", type nigga. He a "Brasi made his bones the hard way" type figure. None'a that Diaper Dandy lingo or Jordan Brand swag. This muhfucka's McDonalds's Classic was a Quarter with cheese, extra ketchup, off the grill. While most high school PGs was on they Iverson emulate. Ja studying that Soze "Have the last laugh" template. Son got his schollie offer off'a being peeped by a Murray State Assistant Coach. While Ja was playing three-on-three on some side basket shit. You feel me!? The killin' part? Fam was there scouting another nigga! C'aint make this shit up.

 

But I know exactly what that coach had to have seen.

Son hitting head on rims like them dunks got autistic needs.

A flamer going off, like them shits tornado sirens.

Handle had Opps. "Cellie vibrating across a table" sliding.
Crossover spreading legs, like it was "The Art of Seduction."
Ja, St. Helens and Vesuvius. All ruthless with them eruptions.
Not postgame interviews. Ja murder testimony recordings.
Get in air and block, like he come with UV warnings.

Beneath him to even dunk it. Son wanna "Brace for impact!" it.
Must was stranded. Way he sending up them "Flairs for the dramatic."
 

Ja was a dropped winning lottery ticket that stuck to fam's shoe. And Murray State? Their lucky asses got to cash in. The Future of Hoopin' was named a consensus First Team All-American by his sophomore season. Set school records for single points and career points. Also, became the only hooper in NCAA history to average at least 20 points and 10 assists in a single season. Told you. Got all them key components.

Never dunks.
"Enter morgue" metaphors.
"He the new Iverson" mentions.
Eldest son of The Mother of Invention.
No covering him with these "New-ass" defenders.

No rock, paper, SZAs.
Killing with controlled chaos.
"And one!" Contact from the dead. Not foul. More seance.
Ja head to the bench. Now niggas euphoric as Zendaya.

Collegiate's ain't fuckin' with, this Dalzell "Dunk-n-dish."

Equal parts dunk punches and assists.
Soon to be "Welcome to Memphis."
Dunks punching harder than men's fists.
Muhfucka get in air, like Thanksgiving fixings aromas.
"Early entry" searching for Wembys ... this nigga fixna "Coma."

Ja relapse to rehab status.

Hops addicted to that need to embarrass.

Six days in total, and God created Earth.

Six ways Ja told God, he'd make 'em touch it first.

Ballhandling answers creating Flamenco Dancers.

Slay mantra.
"Onward Rudolph, Blitzen, Vixen and Prancer!

I tell you, Ja, the type nigga, project that "Actions not talk" vibe.

I tell you, Ja, the type nigga, to "Die a tribe" 'fore he diatribe.

 

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You get the idea. Even the bios have bars on bars on bars! Order a copy for yourself, a friend, or a family member who loves and appreciates Hoops and/or Hip Hop. This also serves as a perfect, and unique, Father's Day gift. Three-hundred pages of napalm. And, unlike most books, each hooper's chapter is a stand-alone story. So, you can put it down and pick up whenever you want without missing a beat.

I had to charge $30 because, after printing and distribution, I only make $11 per book. Yeah, table scraps. I could have put a regular, cheap looking, paperback out there and made more. But I went top shelf to give you your money's worth. A product I can be proud of. Glossy cover. Treated pages that feel like lamination. Full page photos proceeding every players' bars and bios. I stand on my bars. I stand on my product. Get at me and tell your friends.