ORANGE BEACH — Afroman rode in on the wings of a silver-over-black Rolls Royce and a joke.

That’s not a joke.

Or is it?

The jokes started on the front bumper, noticeable as he crossed all five lanes of Canal Road and eased the Rolls into the Undertow Bar and Grill’s rear parking lot. Up front? An enticing photo of a slice of lemon pound cake dripping with white icing.

As the night went on, the jokes and the music continued with a slice of Americana that is riding a wave of publicity over parody songs delivered by the iconic rapper riding a second viral wave of his career by joking about a failed police raid at his home in Adams County, Ohio.

“I went too many types of viral,” he joked. “I went virals. I’ve got trembling old white-haired ladies coming up to me at Cracker Barrel and be like ‘Afroman, can I get a picture with you?’”

The joke that started with millions of views of his song “Lemon Pound Cake” is also where it abruptly stopped. An invasion of his home in June 2022, door knocked off its hinges, front gate guarding his property’s entrance mangled and thousands in cash missing.

And zero evidence found.

That’d be funny if it wasn’t.

“My story was an American wakeup call,” Afroman said, lounging in a makeshift greenroom with his delightful show girls gathered around the table. “It’s something we can all watch and get an example. The lowest lows will bring you the highest highs. Every good movie is going to give you a sad part. But it has a happy ending.”

And we can all watch.

Afroman had his extensive network of home security cameras rolling as deputies barreled through the door, weapons at the ready, looking for drugs and evidence of kidnappings that has yet to be found.

What he was able to salvage from the cameras he turned into a series of music videos that have received into the millions of playbacks online. A female deputy, later memorialized in one of his songs, cut the feed mid-raid. On camera.

“Good times, man,” Afroman said, raising his American flag goblet and taking a swig of Colt 45 poured from a 40. “I think I taught the world how not to be crybabies.”

He has the world laughing now, that’s for sure. With each play of his hilarious videos constantly streaming.

“Hey, look at me, world! Look at these dudes,” he laughed. “They kicked down my door, they stole my money, they disconnected my cameras. I cracked a joke and oooooh look how mad they got at the joke. Oh, wow, ooooo, the whole world’s watching this joke. Oh, ho, ho. I wrote songs about ‘em, I made money off of it. Look at ‘em coming at me. I’m like a matador with a bull.”

The girls giggled. The goblet was raised again followed by a rolling belly laugh from Afroman as he exhaled a billow of smoke.

It’s a story well-known and reported in the media. Deputies offended by his parodies — I bet one wishes he’d never taken a gander at the lemon pound cake on Afroman’s kitchen island — filed a lawsuit claiming defamation and seeking a lot of money.

“This song almost cost me $4 million,” Afroman said before unleashing the scathing humor of “Licc-em Low Lisa” on the deputy who cut security system cords.

But Afroman won when the jury sided with him in a March verdict saying his satire was protected speech.

“Thank God for the First Amendment,” he told the crowd.

RIDING THE WAVE OF VIRAL HUMOR

Back to the highest highs. Way back in 2000, Afroman exploded on the scene with the smash hit “Because I Got High.” It was released on several albums in short order, including the most popular and last of them, “Good Times,” in 2001.

Songs on it, led by "Because I Got High," became anthems on college campuses, and fans at the Undertow were singing with him word for word. Even on the parody songs.

That high — that explosion into pop culture — was yet again different than the wildly popular, rollicking Afroman adorned in the USA flag suit, prancing, marching and spoofing deputies as he exploded onto the scene a second time.

“'Because I Got High’ was good. It was a trip,” he said. “But this time around it’s got crazy. ‘Because I Got High’ was an audio file. It was a soundwave. It was like people knew my song and didn’t know me. They would play my song next to me in an elevator. They knew those soundwaves, but they didn’t know me.”

America can see Afroman on this wave of the “virals,” including nearly nine million views alone for “Lemon Pound Cake.”

“It’s different now, man,” he said. “The video helped a fraction of humanity know me. This whole case here, this time around, is not a soundwave. It’s a whole court case with all the comedy you’ll never forget for the rest of your life.”

Riding the wave, Afroman will be rolling the Rolls to a month-long set of dates ahead of him around the Southeast, including past dates in early April in Jackson and Hattiesburg, Miss., and others coming in May in Mississippi and Kentucky. The night before the double Undertow show — the first sold out in a day, so a second was added — he was onstage at the Merry Widow in Mobile.

All in support of his new album and tour titled “Freedom of Speech.”

What’s the joke now? The album drops on April 20.

“Even if it’s a sarcastic joke, it’s just a joke,” he said. “I stop at the gas station, and people, about 200 people, just popped up. You go for it. Deion Sanders don’t know when he’s going to intercept the ball; he just knows he’s going to do it. I didn’t know how big it was going to be; I was just going to try to make the biggest splash that I could.”

Well played, Afroman, well played.