That’s what the cop said… By the way, we got a fresh batch of crew necks and we included sizes Small and XXL as requested. You can cop yours right away from right here. Also got two new T-shirt designs and the Mook Life T in white with black print for the summer. The rest …Read More

April was no different than any other month. I mean, how many of these fucking recaps have we done so far? Guess what motherfuckers…this one ain’t different. We are still chilling on the streets, getting drunk, getting stoned, eating too much, throwing up, breaking shit, bombing, not getting enough pussy and loving life. Fuck man, …Read More

Spring is in the air and so is the smell of a million perfumes that run alongside Halal vapors, subway drafts, rubber tires and cold steel. The Island City parks are overfilled with self conscious tourist but you can still catch a good conversation between two red-faced bums with the heavyset Brooklyn accent, sharing tips …Read More

Legendary All-City Chilling. Do a little toots, cop a little slice. Walk the long alleyways and catch a few tags. Holler at some shorties and try to powerslide into an event without paying. Classic shit that never gets old, like inappropriate jokes and loud stories that go nowhere. Michael and I have exercised our right …Read More

So, as many of you know, MC Tronel from the infamous Anticipateurs has been in jail for the passed nine months for an aggravated assault charge he caught at his last performance. This man has spent most of his adult life behind bars but it has never stopped him from making classic hits in the …Read More

Spring has finally arrived in Mooktreal city. As the unpredictable weather reaches new heights, the birth of a new season slowly comes around as our city awakens from its winter-long slumber. The neighborhoods come alive again, the mooks show their faces under the sunlight and the familiar bustle of the streets warms our hearts as …Read More

The world is my dartboard. I threw a dart and landed in Phuket Island. I threw another and it landed in the Nagev desert. Once, I threw a dart and landed in your girl’s bed. I just can’t stop throwing them. You never know where they might fall or what you will encounter. When we …Read More

This next All-City Chilleur challenge is called Three Stops On The Strip. The concept is simple: Just hit a strip that you usually would never go on and stop at three (or more) random (or chosen) locations. For this one, Tron and I chose to go on Wellington in Verdun because we both appreciate that …Read More

I can’t even front: most of the time, it’s Jesus Rice who puts me on to the new rap shit. I don’t even bother anymore. I gave up a long time ago. Jesus is my filter. Whatever he discovers, there is a good chance I will also be down. So just like any other Friday, …Read More

When I think of Vegas, I can’t help but have cliché visions of extravagant hotels covered in intricate neon lights, gigantic, lavish casinos filled with overweight Americans, old folks glued to slot machines, corny tourists, cologne-drenched ballers and hookers with fake body parts. Vegas is where people go to get married by Elvis on a …Read More

February in Montreal can sometimes turn into the same routine: staying close to home for most of the frozen month. Not this Injun. I’m finna pack up the camera, some stickers and head south. Popping Patron bottles and mooking it out on the streets of Queens with Mercer was a must. Chilling with Hip Hop …Read More

Skipping through the snow with bottles in hand, it’s the wholesomely obnoxious Mook Life squad. We dodging cops and security agents, only to enjoy what is rightfully ours. The city never sleeps and the cocaine ensures this policy stays active and running in full effect. We finna go to the museum at 2AM just like …Read More

After eight failed attempts at coming up to Montreal, Mercer finally showed up at my door, rocking a light jacket and a hot new pair of Air Max 95′s on the coldest day we’ve had this winter. Welcome to Canada, dawg. Twisted a quick dart and hopped into the van. We swerved off in a …Read More

Aww shit. We back at the border, smelling like weed, rocking expired passports, secretly hoping that someone forgot a five-piece in their jean pocket “by accident”. You guessed it: we ’bout to hit the I-87 South for roughly seven hours until we reach our destination. We will stop at a miserable rest area where acne-ridden, over weight …Read More

Hooo-ly. This month got a mook exhausted as a motherfucker. I bet many of you are heavily medicated right now, ten spliffs deep and you feel that cold running up on you, slowly but surely. I feel you, my mooks. I’m out here, chillin’ in my long johns, Kleenex stuffed in both of my nostrils, …Read More