This doesn’t feel right. It just doesn’t feel right. Long after Don Imus gets his show up and running on a newly consolidated satellite radio company, Hip-Hop will still be put through the ringer over comments similar to “nappy headed hoes.” An art form, put under pressure to censor it’s expression due to an inappropriate comment made by a sacrificial lamb in order to bring about the true prize in this whole fiasco: the muting and spading of Hip-Hop.  Imus has a long history of these kinds of sensitive remarks. He’s been making them for longer than I’ve been alive. He’s presumably an intelligent man, you don’t survive in the radio medium by not being able to read and interpret people and being able to build and serve a captive audience. Imus had done that in spades (no slur intended). Now we are to assume that this man who is a leader and a trailblazer in talk radio is naïve enough to not have known the significance of what he was saying? I don’t believe that. However I also don’t believe that a man should lose his job because demagogues are campaigning for his slot (and presumably the money that comes with it). Hip-Hop doesn’t create ho’s. W#### is a biblical word. It’s older than print. Is Jesus responsible for the “nappy headed w#####”? They do say “hair of wool.” But I digress. At the heart of this matter is not a cultural condemnation. My issue with Mr. Imus is that he commented on children. Make no mistake, college age “adults” are still children regardless of the age of majority. They still have boy trouble, they still have pimples, they still have an exam to take in the morning, and these children had an even bigger hurdle.   They are athletes. Not the ones driving booster-bought SUVs with rims bigger than their age, but the D-1 athletes that actually have to go to class, because there isn’t anything on the other side of the NCAA plantation. Oh yeah, under D-1 rules these girls can’t even get a real job if they’re receiving a scholarship during the season. They play for pride, they play for dignity, they play so an organization with a 2 Billion dollar CBS contract can continue to make money off the sales of their games, the use of their image, the sale of jerseys attached to their performance, and additional alumni moneys and associated revenue. All for a scholarship.   Maybe that’s where the w#### part comes in. But then that would make the colleges in Utah, and New Hampshire, and every other team with a significant amount of white players nappy headed hoes too. Also include the football and baseball and hockey teams as well as those Duke Lacrosse boys (recently exonerated from being accused of raping their nappy headed ho…no really. (Would that have been ho on ho crime?) Make no mistake Don Imus was wrong, but not why you think he is. He was wrong because his comments, which were stupid (as opposed to ignorant because Imus knows better) and wrong, and because he slandered the reputation of our children. Those players bust their ass for everything they get and don’t deserve that kind of attention, especially in the midst of a dream run in the NCAA tournament. He should have been sued for slander and hit in the pocket where this would really hurt him. This just frees him to take his act to the haven for this behavior, satellite radio. And god speed. Censorship, and the fight against it make strange bedfellows it would seem. This isn’t about Don Imus. It’s about the power of our music and culture and the attempt to nullify it. It’s like pork barrel projects. Attach a ridiculous notion that you know no congressman would risk political suicide voting against so that you can get your wish and the support of unwilling allies. Make this issue about the denigration of women and everyone is on board. Find a big target and even the occasional blind dart will find its mark.   Find the right circus huckster and step right up to see the strong man, the bearded lady and the all-powerful, influencing men who have been in media longer than it’s existence and the scourge of black women everywhere even though it was Co-founded by a woman (Shout to Herc’s sister who threw the back to school party that set us off): Hip-Hop. Feast your eyes on how we turn an agent for social change, and a contributor to Tibet Freedom, Farm-Aid, Live-Aid, lemonade and all other forms of world music causes into a hulking monster of rape, murder, and misogyny. Without gamma rays, no less! Watch as a movement with the balance of a Common and a Kool G. Rap makes one half invisible and be only known for bullets instead of ballads! Impossible you ask? No. That’s exactly what is happening to the perception of our movement and culture. You’ll find no shortage of people who want to make Hip-Hop better, or remove it. You’ll find even more who want to protect good will towards women. The question is twofold. One, is it right to pin a gender war that has raged since we looked down and saw one had a plus and the other a socket on something that’s barely 30 years old? Secondly, is it patronage to come to women’s rescue with our capes flapping like Dudley Do Right as if they were incapable of protecting themselves? And you thought chivalry was dead.   Women run Fortune 500 companies, they go to school in larger numbers than men, they graduate at higher percentages than men, and one is even running for president. What makes you think they need someone’s help to protect themselves? Can’t they just stop buying albums, stop dancing, and support something that makes them feel good? Do we need laws to help them do that? Do we need marches? They […]

Not Tavis, Not Reverends Al or Jesse, but a sports reporter out of Kansas City will lead Black folk to the promised land. Or, at the very least, save us from rap music. At face value, Jason Whitlock appears to be a very intelligent, thoughtful, and charismatic individual genuinely concerned with the Black American crisis. His platform for reaching the masses has not been through protest or pulpit, but through the sports pages. From playoffs to unwanted pregnancy, lewd touchdown celebrations to lewd rap lyrics, Whitlock had it pretty much covered. But even ‘Big Sexy’ can get ugly. For a while now, Whitlock has a had a running feud with Hip-Hop culture, particularly its music. He has referred to rappers as thugs, coons, and bojanglers on a regular basis, and has even gone far enough to refer to specific rap artists as “the Black KKK.” Now he’s set his sights on the Don Imus situation, and the heavy involvement of Rev. Al Sharpton and Rev. Jesse Jackson. In a recent interview on MSNBC, Whitlock referred to Sharpton and Jackson as “terrorists,” and accused them of “starting fires and creating divisiveness” with their involvement in this incident, and in the Duke lacrosse scandal. Not an outrageous claim in the least bit, but from a man who was fired from ESPN after criticizing a fellow African-American broadcaster in Michael Irvin, and an African-American sportswriter in Scoop Jackson, well, you know what they say about kettles and that pesky color-complex they can have. Whitlock has made a career on analyzing, dissecting and elaborating on points that go against the general consensus. Anyone can be a contrarian, but it takes a special talent to make a living off of it. Now its putting him at the national forefront as a leading voice on America’s Racial Problem. While Jason Whitlock is a master at eliciting thought and emotion at the same time, what he has not mastered is giving considerable thought to his own arguments, particularly in regards to the hip-hop culture and the generations living in it. Much of Whitlock’s angst against Hip-Hop is that there is little to no responsibility in its misogynistic and violent lyrics. B###### and hoes, gatts and blow, that all a young brother knows in the African-American community, according to Whitlock. Single moms, delinquent dads? Yep, that’s hip-hop’s fault. More Black men in jail than in college? Yeah, mixtapes have been known to have an adverse affect on decision making and SAT preparation. But what about the deeper lying aspects of these problems? They don’t call pimping and hoeing the world’s oldest profession for nothing. Materialism and greed? Mostly American ideals that our folks just happened to pick up when we didn’t have much else going for us between slavery and Ronald Reagan. Broken households, a lack of value on education and a reliance on crime? Institutionalized for much longer than it hasn’t been. Surely no one can expect hundreds of years to be undone with less than 50 years of “equal rights.” Or maybe we’re supposed to. While Whitlock’s perspective is easily understood, and can even draw a certain level of acceptance, it’s completely unfounded, and he’s smart enough to know that. In his position, with his level of experience, I’m sure he knows that he’s vainly rallying against symptoms, and not actual problems. As a football aficionado, I’m quite certain he wouldn’t look at a quarterback with a broken wrist throwing interceptions, and say he’s unable to read coverages. So why is it so simple to assign blame of the crisis of our culture to one singular aspect? Oh, I know, because it comes on TV and makes millions of dollars. Something I’m sure Whitlock wouldn’t mind doing. Could you really blame Whitlock if he found a path to getting some of that action, particularly if the folks mostly interested in his views are nervous, conservative White folks willing to pay him to keep it up? Interestingly enough, rappers and coons have probably made more money off shucking and jiving and have fed more folks through their buffooning then he ever will criticizing them. Let’s face it, Whitlock is capitalizing off this moment in the sun like no other. I’m not saying his views are totally wrong, I’m as conservative a brother as there is for someone who uses the term “n*gga,” and listens to rap music. But I’m smart enough to know that in the blame game, nobody wins. I’m not making excuses for hip-hop and the problems that it has with denigrating women, worshiping material acquisition and celebrating violence. But if Italians don’t have to worry about Tony Soprano representing them, and Jewish brothers and sisters don’t have to worry about Larry David representing them, I’m not tripping off anyone who looks at me and hears “Straight Outta Compton” in their minds. I respect Jason Whitlock’s attempt at trying to help our people. He deserves attention because, in a distinct and peculiar way, he’s just trying to help. Still, you wouldn’t walk up to a screaming child and call it a S#### for being so loud. The problems he is addressing as the ills of the Black community are symptomatic of a true American crisis, and his brash and undeveloped approach to discussing it makes him as big a terrorist as Rev. Al. A big, media-sexy terrorist.

The recent media frenzy around national radio and talk show host Don Imus’ sexist-racist comments about the women’s basketball team at Rutgers University (New Brunswick) is one more item in the evidence column of how women are regarded by men. With a natural fluidity, Imus casually referred to the Rutgers players as nappy-headed hos. Two days later (Friday, April 5), he read a statement that was supposed to be an apology. Today, he extended his apology by saying "I’m a good person. I said a bad thing." When I first read the news, "What the hell…?" was all I could muster. Blood rushed. My heart ached and I lamented for Black women. Then I went back to doing what I was doing. It was surreal to not be surprised or outraged by his comments, but I wasn’t. From what I know about Imus, which is not much, he’s a veteran offender of everybody (except White men, I suppose). That men, be they Black or White, see women through idealized or dehumanized lenses, is not new. That Imus, in particular, would make ignorant comments, is status quo. So "shock jocks" are not shocking any longer. Perhaps the hardening began as I was growing up in Los Angeles in the 1980’s. LAPD’s death grip of choice for Black people was the choke-hold. That was one of my first understandings that some white people with authority had it in for Black people. And some non-authorative white people too! In 1998, James Byrd of Jasper, Texas was murdered by three racist white men. They hitched him to the back of their truck and dragged him for 3 miles. It’s believed that Byrd was alive for some of the time he was being dragged. A fast forward to recent times would bypass countless other racist murders and hate crimes, but it would bring one up to speed with Michael Richards’ rant about n##### at the Laugh Factory, as well as the NYPD murder of Sean Bell in New York, among other maddening things in this so-called civilized society. No doubt my hardening is also cemented by the current all-time high sexist state of affairs of today’s hip hop. Grown Black men, aided by white affluent male financiers, over-saturate our multi-media landscapes with sex, sex, and more mega sex fantasies – which do an excellent job of animalizing women or only presenting them, as Dr. Beverly Guy-Sheftall so eloquently states in Byron Hurt’s groundbreaking documentary Hip Hop: Beyond Beats and Rhymes, as "objects to be f#####." But Black sexiest men, whether they care to admit it or not, take their cues from White sexist men. They reinforce each other and form unspoken alliances – all at our expense. But oppressed anybodies take their cues from dominating forces. It’s universal, scientific, and is part of the reason why women accommodate injustices from men. Some Good Men "If men had to go through what ya’ll go through today, the movement would have been started a long time ago. We couldn’t endure all that you put up with." A male friend’s comments one afternoon as we discussed a few sacrifices that women make in order to please men. Our rituals around hair, make up, and body, mostly, not exclusively, have their origins in our desire to indulge men.Another friend, who is also regarded as an anti-sexist male, told me that his activist work is largely inspired by a woman in his life who was killed at the hands of an abusive husband. "When I first started challenging men about our sexist behavior, I was very nervous." He confided. "I never knew what I was going to say, let alone how it was going to be received. But I woul conjure up Tara (not the woman’s real name) and she would "talk" to me. She would guide me in taking up her cause. I felt like I was defending her and other abused women. I was glad to do it and I became less and less nervous over time." I know plenty men who understand that the discussions about gender must involve men. I’m baffled that I know many men wise enough to stand this ground. They are a rare breed and I don’t exactly how they arrived at this place in their lives so securely…there’s nothing in our society that nurtures such thinking. — The thinking that gets upheld in this country is the normal Imus, he and his bashing kind – Black and White (Howard Stern; Starr, formerly of Hot 97 and Power 105 in New York; and others). More often than not, these men get rewarded by default. Their sexist-racist views are not eradicated, but are suspended, as if in mid-air, for the world to behold and publicly criticize…for a time. They have jobs to come back to…somewhere in the entertainment field, no matter how irresponsible and violating the comments. So cozy is the old-boy network, Imus doesn’t have to pause from his job right away… even his suspension is held in suspension. There have been meetings, marches, and mea culpas for a few days now. Imus’ firing has been called for by Jesse Jackson, Rev. Al Sharpton, Brian Monroe, president of the National Association of Black Journalist, and many others. Despite my hardening to these sex-race fests that pop up on the national scene every few months, I am still jolted by a glaring factor. The Mule of the World The exclusion of Black women weighing in on this controversy is thunderous. In the immediate aftermath of the comment, I never got the impression that "the media" was even remotely interested in feedback from the young Black women hit, or from any other Black woman for that matter. The respondent faces of this controversy have been predominately male. In fact, the one woman who was given a national platform this night on CNN’s Paula Zahn was a white woman – an enlightened, well-spoken, and progressive one – but a white woman nonetheless. The by-passing of Black […]

By the mid 1990s, Mayor Giuliani had already begun his mission to clean up Times Square. A few p### theaters and peep shows remained (Show World Center hadn’t yet been turned into a comedy club), but the remnants of the world depicted in Martin Scorcese’s Taxi Driver were swept away. Grindhouse (Dimension Films), the new double feature from Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino is not a “perfect” cinematic experience by any means, nor is it suited to all tastes. That being said, it was still a ton of fun to watch. The film begins with a phony trailer (directed by Rodriguez) featuring Danny Trejo as the title character in revenge flick called Machete. Remember those crappy revenge/action pictures from the 80’s that littered the isles of your local mom & pop video store? The Machete trailer captures the spirit of those B-movies so completely it’s a little scary. Everything from the Death Wish style one liners to hilariously bad FX. It begins the film on a perfect note. After that, we hop into the Rodriguez half of the double feature, Planet Terror. An intentionally schlocky Zombie/action flick. The first two acts are a blast, and easily more entertaining than just about any of the recent wave of zombie movies.   The creative centers of Rodriguez brain seem to be running on overdrive, as nearly every frame seems to contain some kind of gimmick, gag, or in-joke. Zombies are torn to bits by gunfire. Squibs explode with tons of obviously fake blood. Innocent victims are ravaged by zombie hoards. In one moment, El Ray, the hero of the piece played by Freddy Rodriguez, lets loose with a martial arts display that would be right at home in a late 80’s Golden Harvest production. For the first two thirds of Planet Terror, this approach is highly entertaining. By the final act, however, it grows tiresome. It also has the unintended effect of revealing Planet Terror’s major flaw (If you want to call it that): It resembles a grade-Z straight-to-video 80’s splatterfest more so than a 70’s Grindhouse flick. That said, it winds up being entertaining despite the fact the third act could have been scaled back a bit. Then we have three more fake trailers as sort of an intermission before Tarantino<@sq@>s offering. These trailers are so amusing that they almost end up stealing the show from the main attractions. Death Proof, Quentin Tarantino’s slasher flick/car chase movie, stars Kurt Russell as a stunt driver who uses his souped up ride to kill women after he stalks them. Immediately we realize that Tarantino seems to have a better understanding of what a “grindhouse” film actually is. Everything about the opening credit sequence from Death Proof would be right at home in the bell bottom era. Due to the length, audience members may have issues with the pacing. Tarantino uses the dialogue as sort of a strip tease before the big reveal. He knows that we are getting restless, and frustrated. He knows that we know that something is coming.   The car chase in the final act is the a pitch perfect pay-off for the deliberate pacing and build up of the first two acts. It’s evident that Death Proof is the leaner, better executed half of this double feature. It made Planet Terror seem overdone and excessive by comparison. It achieves its thrills by avoiding most of the modern tricks that Rodriguez seems all to eager to use, namely CGI. Grindhouse will give fans of both Tarantino and Rodriguez exactly what they have come to expect. Don’t be surprised if it ends up spawning a whole new generation of grindhouse aficianados and filmmakers.

  If ever it were possible to use the words “underrated” and “overexposed” to describe the same person, Marques “MH” Houston would be the strongest example. MH has been entertaining us since he was 12, and still his level of skill as a singer and songwriter remains in question. Veteran (Universal Motown) is his attempt to finally prove himself to those that have slept on him, by reminding them of his consistency and demanding their respect. For a man that refuses to wear clothing, this could be asking too much. However, with an album as persuasive as Veteran, it could very well happen. Marques was involved in writing at least half of the 12 tracks. Other contributors include Bryan Michael Cox, The Underdogs, Chris Stokes and Tank. The result is a beautifully written, sensual album without an overkill of graphic and sexual lyrics. The only exception being “Kimberly,” a song rumored to be about a certain young model, further adding to the speculation about their relationship. He brags about their supposed activities with the pride of a kid that just got back from summer vacation. The track comes off as weak and out of place, but may stir up the controversy that has led to hits for other artists. Yung Joc is a huge attraction with his raspy, chopped up vocals on the club track “Like This.” An almost immediate single, this song will draw even more attention to the Atlanta rapper. Mya and Shawnna both have spots on “Hold N’Back,” which will be one of Mya’s first musical appearances in almost four years. All gimmicks aside, this album could stand on content and quality alone. The lead single, “Circle” is vivid and dramatic. It is easily understood why this song was chosen as it gives listeners the clearest picture of what to expect from the rest of Veteran. Follow that up with tracks like “Always & Forever” and “Exclusively,” and see the growth of a man who once proudly wore the title of Immature. Filled mostly with mid-tempo songs and ballads, it is ideal for the listener that is more interested in content than what will be popular in clubs.

  Many may assume that Keith Robinson’s first taste of stardom came from his role as C.C. White in the Oscar winning film Dreamgirls. However, Mr. White aka Black Keith’s resume is far more extensive than that. The Kentucky-born singer-turned-actor made his way to L.A. from his hometown in Augusta, Georgia. Despite his success in landing some major TV and movie roles, he continued to pursue his initial passion: music. Now armed with two singles, “The One” and “Red Eye,” Keith Robinson sat down with us to discuss his achievements and future plans in acting and recording his debut album. AllHipHop.com: In the beginning of your entertainment career you started out as a singer, but ventured into acting. What was your original plan? Were you interested more in acting or singing? Keith Robinson: Definitely more singing. I was in a group. I met a couple of homies in college and we formed a group; me and two other guys. We were just tryin’ to get a deal. We had a deal for a little while with Motown at one point. I don’t know for like a half hour…somethin’ like that. We got out of that deal and then basically we just moved out to L.A. to try to, you know, get a record out there. So definitely it was always music was my first love. AllHipHop.com: What was the name of that group? Keith: The name of the group was Bliss, and then we changed it to State Of Mind. AllHipHop.com:  Having gone to the University of Georgia, it must of been hard to balance entertainment and education. What was your major in college? Were you planning to venture out into something else if music and acting didn’t work out for you? Keith: I always had the entertainment bug, and the major that sounded most closest to being in the entertainment field was marketing, so I was going to be a marketing major. I went like two years, and that’s when we kind of landed our deal and we left school. I didn’t know how you could translate [entertainment] into a college major, so marketing seemed like the likely choice. I just ended up going head first into show business once we got a little daylight. AllHipHop.com: And how did that whole thing start for you? What prompted you to move out to L.A.? Did you have an offer, or was pretty much taking a risk and venturing into the entertainment industry on your own? Keith: Nah, we got out of the deal. We was out of the deal for like a year or so. We just loaded up the car. I saved up enough money telemarketing. My homies saved up some money however they were doin’ it. We just took a gamble and rode out here, living in hotels. Finally, [we] found a place. We just kinda did it from scratch. AllHipHop.com: So you basically risked it? Keith: Yeah. Just loaded up the car and mobbed out. And before that I was comin’ on weekends, when I had free time hustlin’ around town and meeting people. Tryin’ to ship demos and get my demo heard by whoever I could. And once I felt like I knew my way around enough to move, we did it; we just made the jump. AllHipHop.com: So basically your whole move out there was to promote your singing career? Keith: Yeah, Yeah. AllHipHop.com: So how did you switch over to acting? Keith: I mean pretty much when I got out there I met a little shorty, a girl. I went to acting class with her just to see what it was like, ‘cause that’s all about the extent I knew about acting and Hollywood. Teacher didn’t have enough students so she let me get up. She let me read with them and she thought I was good. I was like whatever. I left, and she called me back a few weeks later and said I should go read for this role which was Power Rangers, kids show, and I ain’t even know what it was so I was like, aight whatever. I went in and did my thing and then you know four, five auditions later they kept callin’ me back and they were liking me and I got the gig. So I was like, I’m just gonna role with it ‘cause I was able to pay the rent and fund the demos and get some studio time with the money I was making. So it began to snowball after that, and then kinda ended up here. AllHipHop.com: Was it a lot of hard work for you when you got into the acting or did it pretty much come natural to you? Keith: It was real natural for me. I guess because I had basically been performing for most of my life. I mean it’s a definite craft you have to work at but I think you either have it or you don’t. I had the basic knack for it. But I began to really study really hard about the technique and the do’s and don’ts, and really how to perfect it, get better at it, which I still do. But I think basic instincts, kind of already were innately there because I was already a performer at some level. AllHipHop.com: You have starred in a diverse array of roles. What was your most favorite role to play? What was the most difficult? Keith: My favorite was probably C.C. from Dreamgirls, ‘cause he’s most like me. You know, young singer/songwriter kinda comin’ in the music business naïve and thinking that it was gonna be all good – kinda getting the firsthand look at the school of hard knocks, which was kind of a lot like my introduction to music business. And I loved this character I played called Angel. He was on this war show on Epic called Over There that I played for like a year. Which was [this] deeply spiritual guy but yet […]

APOLOGY: a·pol·o·gy (_-p_l’_-j_) pronunciation 1. An acknowledgment expressing regret or asking pardon for a fault or offense. An apology can mean so many different things for people, both the giver and recipient(s). So, I’ve been thinking a bit. I believe it’s high time that Hip-Hop offered an apology to its women, in particular the females of color. Here we are in the year 2007, a pivotal year for our culture. Music sales are down while criticism of Hip-Hop is up. The culture is under attack, at a creative crossroads and it appears people are acting crazier every step of the way. We have outright, bold misogyny and rampant sexism in our Hip-Hop culture as if it were indigenous to our people. We have our music, which can barely find a commercially viable female rapper. Meanwhile, a host of talented female emcees cannot get a fair shake even in the underground. We’ve watched the culture transform from one that was inclusive of WOMEN to one that resembles a gang initiation just to attend the party. Now consider the parallels in society; because Hip-Hop is nothing but a microcosm of a bigger picture. Congress, one of the U.S. Government’s celestial bodies, seeks to apologize for slavery (not without opposition). After 140 years after the Civil War, the government body is considering offering a national apology to African Americans for the racial catastrophe that enslaved millions of Africans and institutionalized racism into our societal fabric. Now, slavery not only oppressed a class of people, but it economically raised another’s class and their businesses, aspirations and dreams. With rap, you have the men – typically Black men – who are using this art for economic gain and then you have the women – typically African American women or women of color who are relegated to the most base role in the culture. I think it’s for men this collective apology could mark the beginning of a healing with women and as importantly, themselves. For women, this collective apology could mark the beginning of the mending relations with its men and, most importantly, themselves. Lets be frank. The masses of people – male and female – hunger for more sustenance from its Hip-Hop. Now, think about this situation in terms of food. When you eat your typical fast food for an extended period of time, you experience a number of adverse affects. Initially, you might simply gain weight, something remedied with exercise and change in dietary habits. However, if you continue to ingest the bad food, you will begin to suffer ailments that are much more difficult to fix. (Think high cholesterol, obesity, diabetes, cardiovascular disease.) I view the music we consume in a similar way. If you listen to music that is always violent, persistently misogynist, you could assume the negativity as your own and over time, it could become a shaper of your perspective. These images are conditioning the way boys see women and the way girls see what they will become. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy that writes and re-writes itself in a vicious cycle. The blatantly, degenerate music is the food we masses feed our minds in every medium that means anything – online, television, musically and print. I understand that there will be people that will inevitably disagree with my thoughts and even blast the mere thought of an apology. Hip-Hop is unapologetic by nature. Hip-Hop is a victim itself in many ways, if you know of its origins in the Bronx of the 80’s. It was considered Hell on Earth. So, in theory, one’s environment could be the “fast food” and harsh urban terrain never apologizes. But, playing victim is played out. At some point, mentally we have to raise up and move forward. Who can disagree with that? An apology is also an admission of guilt, wrongdoing, regret and if properly executed, suggests strongly that the apology marks a imminent change in behavior. Remember the forced apology when you were a child? You didn’t want to do it and furthermore you probably didn’t know why you were saying sorry. You just did it and it really didn’t mark any sustained change in habit. From that point of view, it’s probably too soon to expect an apology from Hip-Hop, much less a change in behavior. The change is the key… Take Common as an example of a person that hasn’t made any recent apologies to women. He’s done something better, he’s evolved as a man and a human being. On his first album, Can I Borrow A Dollar, he penned a song called “Heidi Hoe,” that was an abrasive (and clever) dismantling of the “scallywag.” I loved that song too. But, what I can appreciate about Common is he didn’t feel compelled to stay there in his reality or his music (regardless of what public demands were). He would go on to write songs like “A Song For Assata” and “Come Close,” among others that examine the wide range of experiences men have with women. So, while the Chicago MC didn’t necessarily apologize (or need to), the end result is the same. He kept making music and behaved in a manner than was consistent with evolution, the aftermath of any sincere apology. He simply altered his approach. Jay-Z, Nas, T.I. and others like Ludacris have been liberated from their former selves and still managed to stay relevant and successful. Over the past 20 or so years, Hip-Hop has devolved from a revolutionary form of art that saw the rise of street intellectuals, rappers erasing racism and others proactive behavior to one that caters to the very base in humans. I see women all over Hip-Hop, but I still miss them. Salt-N-Pepa, Queen Latifah, MC Lyte, Monie Love, Lauryn Hill, Rah Digga, Jean Grae and a plethora of others have offered their version of real womanhood. They were not a byproduct of a male rapper’s negative experience with a few bad apples. In many ways, these femcees’ messages balanced the men […]

I know it’s been a minute since I added an entry to my journal, but there’s been a whole lot going on lately, and I’ll admit I got a little bit caught up. Right now I’m caught up in crunch time. My second mixtape comes out on March 26th, which is less than a week away, and there are all sorts of last minute things that need to get handled. It’s like being up to bat with two outs in the bottom of the ninth inning, game seven of the World Series with the winning run on third base. By the way, as I’m writing this, I’m listening to one of only two copies of the CD…one of the products of crunch time. More on that a little bit later. Since this journal started back in October, going on six months ago, there’s been a whole lot that’s happened in my career. I’ve had the opportunity to be on national television, national and local radio, national magazines, websites, mixtapes and shows. All of that was off the response to one mixtape. So now, with all of those things under my belt, I have to follow up the first mixtape with something even bigger and better. See it’s easy to win the first time around, because no one has any expectations. But once you start being received well and see a little bit of success, all the sudden the gloves are off and people start thinking that you can’t do it again. On top of all that, there are the expectations of the “sophomore slump” that so many fall into, which can happen when you start believing your own hype and getting gassed. With all of that pressure on my shoulders, I went back into the studio and set out to outdo myself, and to product of that is ESSObama: The Champagne Campaign. If I had to try and count how many people have asked my why I chose to name my mixtape ESSObama I don’t know if I could do it. So let me take a second and explain where that came from. As anyone who’s turned on a TV in the next two months knows, Barack Obama has announced that he’s running for the Democratic nomination for President. The main weakness that political commentators see in Obama’s chances are his lack of experience. Now I’ve only been involved with the music industry for about two years, close to the same amount of time that Obama has been a senator from Illinois. So I thought it would be kinda crazy to use Obama’s Presidential campaign as a metaphor for my “campaign” to make it as an artist. Obama wants to be President of the United States, I’m trying to make my mark on Hip-Hop music…the two aren’t as different as most people would think. Just like Washington is political, the Music Industry is political. The same way you have local, city, state and national offices, you have local, city, state and national artists. So lets say the City Council is the hottest artist in your city. The State Senate is the artist that’s starting to get some love outside of their city and they making some progress. The Congress is the national artist that’s signed to an independent or major label. The Presidential Cabinet is your team, and the fans are the voters…along the way you have to kiss babies, shake hands, debate (appeal to the women, get respect from the streets, battle)…starting to sound like it kinda makes sense doesn’t it. So ladies and gentlemen, without any more delay The Champagne Campaign is here. Barack ESSObama…vote for me! GONE. www.essomusic.com www.myspace.com/esso talk2esso@gmail.com

  In 1986, Dennis Hopper’s Colors depicted gang violence in gripping terms that made people far removed from south and eastern Los Angeles see the microcosm of the ghetto. Although it introduced the world to today’s stars Don Cheadle and Damon Wayans, the film bent to fit the heartstrings of a Hollywood audience. Cle Sloan may be in Hollywood, but he’s hardly of the stardust. Instead, the Athens Park Blood gang-member got his starts calling shots and accumulating stripes in the streets of Watts. This character came to surface on the screen from Sloan’s charged and real life role in Training Day. Now a successful actor, Sloan produced Bastards of the Party for HBO. This documentary film motions towards armistice from Crips and Bloods by celebrating their rich histories in a city which may have pitted them against one another. With teary-eyed gangsters confessing their emotions and convictions on camera, the film has become the talk of the community. Upon its release, we spoke to Cle Sloan on his intentions and the state of the union in Los Angeles. AllHipHop.com: I’m stunned. Your film is very powerful. You mention it a bit in the film, but what was the specific point that led you to making Bastards of the Party?Cle Sloan: After I started to learn the history, I started to get obsessed with it. I’m a very passionate person, an extremist – even if I’m dealing with negativity or positive stuff. So I started learning the history, and I started talking to my homies about it everyday. They basically said, “We’re tired of you talking about this, go out and do something. Write a book or something.” My ongoing joke is, I said, “I ain’t gonna write a book ‘cause I know y’all ain’t gonna read it.” So I thought the easiest way to do it for my homies was to put it on film. That was a natural segué for me, ‘cause I was a student of film and loved the whole process of film. AllHipHop.com: About 10 minutes into the film, you look at the camera dead-on and admit to destroying your community for a number of years. That kind of accountability and sincerity is something that people will see and appreciate. How hard is it for you to look at millions of people and admit something like that? Cle Sloan: You know man, I’m a pretty high-profile cat, unfortunately, out here in these L.A. streets, and my hands are dirty. I’ve been involved with what I call participation, I’ve condoned a lot of stuff I shouldn’t have condoned, I’ve green-lighted people I probably shouldn’t have, and…it wears on you after a while. You walk around with layers and layers of semi-guilt on some of the stuff you did. As you get older, you start looking back on some of the stuff. People start telling you the incidents, and it crushes you. I had a homie tell me he dropped out of school ‘cause of me. I didn’t understand it. There’s so many stories like that I hear about stuff I did, and I just really wanted to come clean. I’ve been doing some terrible stuff and I want to stop. If I want it to stop, then I’ve got to come clean about my participation. This film is about criticism and self-criticisms – all the way around. AllHipHop.com: You’ve got Flipside in the film speaking on behalf of the Bounty Hunter Bloods, who some of us may recognize as a rapper from the ‘90s group O.F.T.B. Hip-Hop and gangs have such an interesting relationship. Being somebody of your figure, have gangs made Hip-Hop worse, or has Hip-Hop made gangs worse? Cle Sloan: I think it’s a little bit of both, man. That’s another reason why I wanted to do the film, for the sobering effect. Now it’s glamorized and it’s spreading across the country. Every time I get off a plane, I’m running into a Blood or a Crip, and it really saddens me, man. They are the first generation of Bloods in their city. That’s setting up for years and years of self-destruction to come about, and it saddens me. I wanted to come with the film as a sobering effect of what things is about. It’s like what [one of the interviewed gang members] says, “Bangin’ ain’t a lifestyle, it’s a death-style.” In no way can I blame Hip-Hop for the violence or makin’ people join gangs – it’s definitely not to that extent. But I will say, with every movement, positive or negative, there’s always a musical background. In the positive sense, when Black Liberation came about, James Brown was the musical movement to go along with the political movement. That got everybody goin’. In the same sense, that negative effect also. Me, when I was out there bangin’ real hardcore, of course I’d put on an N.W.A. album. You’re hearing these words put to music as you’re livin’ that life, it enhances it and gives confirmation that what you’re doing is [cool]. Music solidifies it. AllHipHop.com: What do you forecast will be the reaction from your peers or former peers when this film gets its exposure through HBO? Cle Sloan: Most of my peers have seen it already. I made sure got in the street and had grassroots screening with homies, with Crips, with Bloods, I called it my L.A. snip-test. I had so-called enemies sitting in the same theaters watching it, and after it, it was all [good]. We sat around and talked for hours after. Out here, everything is based on climate. Right now, the climate is right for change. So many of us are dying out here; we’re getting weaker and weaker. We’ve got a whole other movement that’s pushing us right out of the city, basically. We realize we have to come to come together or we’re gonna perish; it’s a wrap for us out here. Bastards of the Party will help define that. It was perfect timing that the […]

“Nowadays, rappers are comin’ half-hearted / Commercial like Pop, or underground like Black markets / Where were you the day Hip-Hop died? / Is it too early to mourn, is it too late to ride? “ – Talib Kweli, “Too Late” (2000, Rawkus) Less than a month after Little Brother moved away from 9th Wonder’s innovative but marginalizing sound, I just got the news that one of the core groups of my youth, Jurassic 5, has disbanded on some seemingly unfriendly terms. It surprised me how much more the former meant to me than the latter, and I got to thinking of the overall state of underground Hip-Hop as we once knew it. Earlier in the week, I was going through my collection of CDs and LPs, deciding what to keep, and what not to – a daunting task that I perform several times each year, and always before a change of residence. In the shuffle, I pulled out the Dilated Peoples’ album The Platform, something I had previously held on to since I purchased it moments after the record store turned its keys on Tuesday May 20, 2000. After a nostalgic listen, I threw the CD on Amazon, and let it go for three dollars. This action hurt me in a number of ways, mostly because of what it showed me about myself seven years later, and the demise of the Hip-Hop I once loved. Looking back at the late ‘90s underground glory, I often debate which is a better, more archetypal single, Black Star’s “Respiration” or Dilated’s “Rework the Angles.” Both of these records combined perfect sample-based sound compositions and pointed lyrics using urban and celestial images. I adored this brand of Hip-Hop, and so did the check-writers. Priority backed Rawkus, as Interscope signed Jurassic 5 and Planet Asia, while Dilated joined Capitol/EMI. MCA would scoop the Quannum label, and Dr. Dre would sign the Cinderella-story of all back-packers, Eminem. Meanwhile, the veterans wanted a taste too. Kool G Rap re-traded the fedora for a hoodie, aligning with Rawkus, Zev Love X reappeared as MF Doom, and The Freestyle Fellowship made an encore album. The expectations were big, and despite some hit, heavy airplay singles from J5 (“The Influence”), Pharoahe Monch (“Simon Says”), and Royce Da 5’9” (“Boom”), nobody besides Marshall Mathers (five million sold on his debut) appeased the labels as seemingly intended. No, this was a culture that lived and subsequently died on the twelve-inch singles that stores today refuse to carry and profiled DJs refuse to play. From 1997-2001 though, it produced legions of fans – a whole generation of teenagers in the suburbs, in the cities, of all colors – perceived as White, who had much more in common with J-Treds than Jay-Z. Five years later, and partly due to better music from the Jay-Z side, could these emerging young professionals still relate to Del’s metaphysics, to Pacewon’s riotous antics, or to The Beatnuts’ sophomoric humor? Perhaps the same audience that knew every word of Kweli’s “Manifesto” grew to memorize Pusha T and Malice’s punchline swagger in their upper twenties. I write from experience. As a working music journalist, I’m inundated with mail everyday. I could have told you that El-P’s I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead was dope, three months ago, but I find myself waiting for the DHL deliveryman to bring me Timbaland’s Shock Value, which drops in less than two weeks. Underground Hip-Hop is always there, in vast abundance. Have you ever seen Kool Keith’s discography? Just as much as it infuriates me that The Dipset has a release of some kind every Tuesday, it’s troubling that The Bronze Nazareth really expects me to go to the store three times in less than two years to spend my money. Whereas we welcomed the quality-over-quantity twelve-inch singles of the late ‘90s with open tone-arms, 2007 is a time of, “Here, buy my mixtape of 27 fillers.” Unlike 10 years ago, the junk that comes out allows my pockets to stay fat and not flat, relatively speaking. Who’s to blame? In one part, I blame myself, for owning and working as a part of the Internet. The web not only hurt all of Hip-Hop with its file-trading, CD burning, MySpace self-promoting, and kiss-picture-leaking technology. Al Gore’s illegitimate brainchild also created a perception that underground Hip-Hop was corny. Talib Kweli said it so on “Some Kind of Wonderful,” “My rhymes be blowin’ up in chat rooms all over the Internet / and causing collisions on the highway of information.” At a time when we value jail time, tight lips, and street-earned stripes, backpackers got vic’d for theirs, and were too busy blogging about other stuff to care. Then there are the labels. Jurassic 5’s disbanding makes it highly implausible that Charli 2na or Zakir will hang around Interscope with solo deals. Pharoahe Monch’s Desire was being promoted when Universal let Chamillionaire release his last album, let alone his top-priority follow-up. I’d also venture to bet that if Ghostface and MF Doom make that collaborative album, it’s more likely to sport a Nature Sounds label than the promised Def Jam Left jacket. Even Consequence is offering refunds on the consumers of his recent album, which total a smaller number than the attendance of a Tampa Bay Devil Rays’ home game. In the same breath, I commend Stones Throw, the Def Jux, the Rhymesayers, ABB, Duck Down and other labels who adapted brilliantly to the independent possibilities of the times. Those times is hard, but are today’s talented voices of the movement suffering from the mistakes made by the suits at the top of the millennium? I’d pass partial blame. If Nike hadn’t thrown Kanye and Nas on “Classic,” would KRS-One and Rakim still really be getting the love? If The Black Eyed Peas hadn’t added Fergie, would they still be on a major? Aren’t there more J Dilla tribute shirts in print than copies sold of Fantastic Volume 2? Lastly, there is us – the consumers. […]

If you get a room full of Black folks together to talk about the condition of our community, you can bet that the hottest topic of the evening will be “What the heck is wrong with Black leadership?” Many would probably argue that all Black leaders need to be but put on the unemployment line, quick fast and in a hurry. But at the end of the night, the question is , “If all the high profile Black leaders packed up and moved to a small island in the South Pacific, then what? Who would take their places? Who you gonna call when you get fired from your job at Mickie Dee’s for jackin’ up a customer for callin’ you the “N” word because his fries were too greasy? Who you gonna call when lil Tyrone gets expelled from school for tellin’ Mrs. Horowitz that Columbus Day is a freakin’ lie and ole Abe Lincoln really didn’t free no slaves!” After all the complaining, you can best believe that if you ask for volunteers to step up and solve the 99 Problems facing every brother and sister in America, you will hear a pin drop. That is why we are starting the first reality series in search of new representatives for African Americans – “America’s Next Black Leader.” If you aren’t satisfied with the current condition of Black leadership then “you” have the opportunity to become Until I figure it out, read yesterday’America’s next Black leader! Many of us truly believe that we need a regime change at the top. Real talk, how many more times do you really want to see “Count Coolout” show up to accept the apology of a racist bigot on behalf of 12 million angry Black folks. How many more conferences do we really want to see on C-Span with the same ole folks complaining about the same things that they were whinin’ about since before your mom was born? At some point, the testimony that “I marched with Dr. King” stops being a badge of honor and becomes a strong indicator that you need to sit down somewhere. Based on the condition of the Black community , our movement is sick but instead of the doctor suggesting that the heads of the movement retire, he just prescribes some “Civil Rights Viagra” so they can keep marchin’, singin’ and prayin’ till the cows come home. Don’t get me wrong, I am not disrespecting those of the Civil Rights era but they really don’t seem to be reachin’ this “Hip Hop Generation.” And since some of today’s hottest rappers are now knockin’ on 40’s door, if you ask a young Brotha about dissin’ the elders watch him say, “I do respect the elders, Jay-Z’s my dawg!” Times have changed and the idea of a multi-millionaire rap artist in 2007, riding a round in a $1000,000 luxury jeep blasting “We Shall Overcome, one day” just seems kind oxymoronic. Although many hate to admit it, the NAACP has been in need of a drastic make over for decades. Excuse my language but that group has been a perfect candidate for “Pimp My Civil Rights Organization” for years. And although the old guard Civil Rights leader’s always challenge the young folks with the cliche “no one is going to hand you the mantle of leadership, you have to take it,” you can believe that if you ever got close enough to lay a finger on the scepter, they would be hollerin’ for security! While age may be an issue, it is really about old ideas that need an update and just because a new face comes along, it does not mean that he/she will effectively deal with issues disproportionately affecting Black folks…Even Obama, with his message of “one America inclusiveness” has yet to prove when it comes down to it, will he rep the Hamptons or the hood , Harvard or Howard, high dollar estates or high rise tenement buildings. But the question remains, although you may be able to stand on your soapbox and complain about Black leaders, can you do any better? On the surface, being a Black leader seems to be a cool job. Look at the fringe benefits, wearing thousand dollar suits, riding around in stretch limos and rubbin’ elbows with the rich and famous. But leading Black people ain’t no picnic. Can you imagine having hundreds of angry Black folks blowin’ up your Blackberry, everyday, with their personal problems. Just think about that lady that sits next to you at work and her Monday morning drama. Now, multiply that by a thousand…Get the visual??? But if you feel that you are sharper than Sharpton, bring more action than Jackson and create more drama than Obama, this is what we need you to do…Go to our America’s next Black leader site and upload a video of yourself explaining what you would do as America’s next Black leader. You can post a speech, rap, poem or better yet, a video of you actually doing things in the community which you believe a real Black leader should do. People across the country will vote by “favoriting” who the next Black leader should be on youtube. The winner will be announced April 4, 2007, the anniversary of the assassination of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Now, I know some of ya’ll are saying that you don’t have the time to upload videos and stuff , but if you could take time to upload that video of Tina tha Tacky Stripper for that new BET reality show “Hot Ghetto Mess”, then you should have no problem taking part in “America’s Next Black Leader.” But even if you can’t post a video, you can participate in the discussion section. It’s 2007, Brothers and Sisters and we don’t need another Hot Ghetto Mess, we need Black leadership at its best. TRUTH Minista Paul Scott represents the Messianic Afrikan Nation in Durham NC. For more info about “America’s Next Black Leader” […]

The situation with the murder of Sean Bell by the NYPD has been a serious topic as of late. I am sure, for many Americans who are not minorities, this case means very little- emotionally speaking. Most of White America seems to feel that the topic of police profiling and physical abuse by police in the African American community is widely over exaggerated. However, the book Lest We Forget: White Hate Crimes by Alphonso Pinkney outlines in depth the systematic racial violence and judicial bigotry that gripped the 1980’s. Remember, that songs like N.W.A.’s F**k tha Police”, Ice T’s rock song “Cop Killer" and Paris’ “Coffee, Doughnuts and Death” all came from this era. In his book, Pinkney states, “These people [the police] are employed to protect citizens, but far too often they murder the people they are supposed to protect. Individuals sworn to uphold the law are now breaking the law. Under these circumstances, citizens rightfully fear police.” While speaking to a friend from New York, he asserted that he felt that the city might erupt in riots if justice is not served in the courts for Sean Bell. Together, we theorized that New York has never really gotten closure over the murders of Michael Stewart, Yusuf Hawkins, or the case of subway shooter Bernhard Goetz in the 80’s. Situations that are more recent include the murder of Amadou Diallo and Sean Bell. Collectively we concluded that New York is smoldering with decades of unresolved racial injustice, and that Sean Bell is the tipping point that could lead to statewide violence. I told him that I did not believe the National Guard could effectively lockdown all the boroughs of New York should there be a riot. I also told him that if that happened, it could spawn nationwide uprisings. Down in Atlanta, the police shot an elderly African American woman to death a few months ago. Los Angeles and the Bay Area have historically been hotbeds of conflict for African American youth and the police. I also think there are many disenfranchised Latinos, Whites and Asians who are upset with the system. Even if they were not in full allegiance to what started the riot, they could exploit the chaos in the moment. Then my friend said something that really shook me. He said that one of the things that is making young Americans feel more confident in rioting, was the effectiveness of the guerillas that are combating U.S. forces in Iraq and Afghanistan. He said that their small victories have created new hope in young people of all races who feel ostracized by the American system at home and abroad. The young people believe they can potentially win big, with violence as an option. In a documentary about conflict between lions and hyenas called Hunting with the Moon, there is a clip of a young lion cub growing into adulthood. He is gaining in size, but still a bit awkward in his step. During a skirmish with hyenas over territory, the young lion shows a level of courage previously unseen in prior clashes. The narrator stated something like “Fear has been replaced by hatred.” Sadly, young American minds have been led to this warped thought pattern. I reflected on the bizarre predicament America finds herself in. For the last 30-40 years, she has preached justice, harmony and peace. At the same time she has sown the seeds of violence, bigotry and war across the planet. One only need place the outline of the Weinberger Doctrine against the military operations in Lebanon, Central America, Panama, The First Gulf War, Somalia, Bosnia and Kosovo to see my point. Virtually every operation was an outright failure. Many times the justification of entering the clash was flimsy at best. The military campaigns were not always strategically clear and the diplomatic follow up was rarely thorough. Under the guise of championing “freedom”, we have alienated ourselves from much of the rest of the world. The United States claiming to be about these things in the face of such hypocrisy makes our country appear to many as a Goliath. We look like a huge bully. Everybody knows that nobody- likes a bully. The American Goliath towers above, domestically. Look at its failure to provide quality education for the youth, the rampant police brutality, an uneven job market and a rapidly growing prison industrial complex (which is a ripple effect from a failing educational system). Few trust their vote matters anymore. The rise in home foreclosures highlights the rapid erasure of the middleclass. Others can view America as a Goliath internationally. It comes with false hunts for WMD’s. It comes when President Bush enshrouds the invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan with Crusader fantasies; attempting to install surface democracies while these countries fully embroil themselves in civil war. It seems, as though, America has become in many ways the very thing that it says it hates. No matter how rosy the sunglasses we might put on are, America now stands as a country that is very openly racist, very class driven, highly bigoted, spiritually hypocritical, and socially, culturally and morally bankrupt on many planes. Now let us look back at that bully, Goliath. In the Bible it says that after David hit Goliath “the stone sank into his forehead and he fell on his face to the ground…When the Philistines saw that their champion was dead, they fled.” David then took the sword that Goliath brought to battle from his hand and cut his head off with it. I find it interesting that the weapon Goliath brought to the field of battle was the weapon used for his own destruction. Ironically, Saul originally told David that he should not go fight with Goliath because “you are but a youth, and he [Goliath] has been a man of war from his youth.” Alas, it was a young man, using what appeared to be inferior weaponry who won the day on that battlefield. Such is the case in […]

It has become an annual ritual. Every year around March 9, the rap world honors the late Christopher Wallace, better known as the Notorious B.I.G. But are we celebrating Biggie’s life, or his death? This year, that question is more relevant than ever. On the tenth anniversary of his murder several rap mags and other music publications have marked the occasion with splashy covers and heartfelt stories. Mick Boogie and Mister Cee have compiled mixtape tributes. Numerous websites offer stories explaining why many consider Biggie the best MC of all time. And on March 6, Bad Boy Records released the Notorious B.I.G.’s Greatest Hits. Christopher Wallace was born on May 21, 1972. In two months, he would have been 35 years old. But that seems of little interest to us. Instead, we use March 9, 1997, the day he was shot down in a hail of bullets, to commemorate one of the greatest MCs who ever lived. It marks the moment when he transformed from an amazing artist into a martyr, a symbol of unrealized potential. We can’t get over the fact that he’s dead, so we use his demise to mourn what we have lost. One would imagine that journalists and rap industry veterans would act responsibly and choose Biggie’s birthday as a more appropriate time. Aren’t they concerned with the image of Notorious B.I.G.’s as a ghostly figure that haunts us every year, instead of a great man who once blessed the world with his music? Perhaps Biggie would have enjoyed the sick joke we play by honoring his death day. On his classic 1994 debut Ready to Die, he metaphorically blasted himself on the album’s final track, “Suicidal Thoughts.” That disc went platinum, and its many singles sold enormously well. But Biggie didn’t become a multi-platinum superstar until after he was assassinated in Las Vegas, just before the release of Life After Death on March 25, 1997. The tragedy seemingly helped make the album one of the biggest-selling rap recordings of all time. If some weren’t convinced that Biggie was the best when he was alive, many were won over by his murder. Then there’s Tupac Shakur, Biggie’s onetime rival and another frequent candidate in the “greatest of all time” sweepstakes. Last fall, two months after his death day on September 13, Amaru Entertainment released Pac’s Life. No disrespect to his mother, Afeni Shakur, but how ironic is that? Other icons that are no longer with us draw tributes on their birthdays. Bob Marley’s February 6 birthday, for example, was commemorated with concerts and parties around the world. Unfortunately, hip-hop is locked in a death culture. Our artists claim invulnerability by cutting down rivals with taunts and bullets, and then offer their own to the society that made and eventually annihilated them. They’re like suicide bombers who make videotape confessions before detonating themselves. In this toxic environment, Biggie and Tupac made the ultimate sacrifice. We refuse to deal with the violence we create, so we venerate the two men whose outsized legends seemingly make all the crap worthwhile. After all, if they talked about killing people and subsequently died as heroes, then the bloody rap world we’re stuck in will eventually redeem us, too. Next year, instead of reminding ourselves of Notorious B.I.G’s senseless murder, we should honor his life and make May 21 a date for our annual celebrations. It would not only be a more appropriate way to remember this musical and cultural giant, but it would also be a first step towards combating the negative elements that are killing hip-hop culture.

“So you wanna be hardcore, with your hat to the back, talkin’ bout the gats in your raps?” – Notorious B.I.G., “Machine Gun Funk” Despite Kobe Bryant’s changing his number from 8 to 24, and a whole portfolio of clippings on Lebron James, there will never be another Michael Jordan. It’s sinful media hype to make the short-thought comparison the sports cliché that it’s become. As another cliché blossoms in bringing New York Rap back to anything more than mini-“movements”, dumb rappers need teaching. You can aspire to adapt the block-meets-business acumen of Jay-Z, the resiliency and unpredictability of Nas, but leave Christopher Wallace out of your wildest dreams. There will never be another. Today’s rapper rarely speaks on behalf on the have-nots, let alone the unwanted. It’s an era of “Make it Rain,” “Diamonds on My Chain,” and claiming, “I’m everywhere you never been.” Although Biggie would eventually acquire a braggadocious style for Junior M.A.F.I.A.’s Conspiracy and his own Life After Death, the centerpiece of his catalog, and perhaps ‘90s Hip-Hop, came by way of Ready to Die, an album that was anything but proud. Instead of lying about how much his jewelry cost or the cars he owned, Big bent the truth on “Juicy” to appeal to his audience. “Birthdays was the worst days” and “sardines for dinner” were not real accounts, according to Biggie’s mother, Ms. Violetta Wallace. Rather than focusing entirely on crack sales and catching bodies, Biggie’s exaggerations were bold left turns in the face of a Hip-Hop audience that had grown accustomed to hearing how its heroes spent their hundreds. “Juicy,” if nothing else, is the most linear rags to riches rap song that ever existed – outdoing Biz Markie’s “The Vapors.” Biggie tells you how bad it was and how good it’s gotten. Whether it was Wu-Tang’s “C.R.E.A.M.” and “All I Got is You” basking in the humility of poverty, or Jay-Z’s “Money Ain’t a Thang” or “You Don’t Know” opening up bank statements, Hip-Hop never likes to mix the now and the then. Biggie took it there. Biggie wasn’t just broke; he was “Black, and ugly as eva.” Few rappers today will ever admit to getting the Heisman from the ladies. Instead, we’ve got numerous ‘80s babies claiming to be blowing backs out since Reagan was prez. The closest to Biggie may’ve been Mike Jones, with his 2005 “Back Then,” admitting to be shunned in the past, only to be desired now. Unfortunately, while Mike managed to convey this message with a downright unforgettable hook, the verses did little to reveal any pain, emotion, or poke any fun at the artist saying it. Jay-Z, who admittedly studied Big’s blueprint, attempted this on “Song Cry,” stating, “Used to tell they friends I was ugly, wouldn’t touch me.” Still, neither Mike Jones nor Jay-Z ever showed the kind of routine vulnerability that made Big feel like your closest friend, if not yourself. A clown by nature, Biggie may’ve been hard on Kwame, Della Reese, and a certain vic in that 1990 Bed Stuy battle footage belonging to Mister Cee, but he was always harder on himself. Presumably, he had to be. Within his similes and playful jabs, Biggie showed his knowledge of Hip-Hop history. Name-checks of Rappin’ Duke or Oaktown’s 357 revealed that Biggie wasn’t just listening to the radio, and had he lived in these times, his iTunes Playlist would be something worth looking at – sorry E-40. Recently, I was interviewing an unnamed rapper signed to a major, who told me that “Kool Herc mixtapes were dope,” an indication to how fraudulent today’s stars’ sense of history has become. The closest talent, in this regard, we have to Biggie is The Game, who’s been scrutinized for his own name-checking, mostly because they rarely leave the vicinity of Aftermath personnel and Dre-relations, particularly on The Documentary. To his credit, The Black Wall Street CEO did hip some young’ns to MC Eiht and Kool G Rap. But Biggie took it one step further, and as Kwame will tell you, looking back at the mid ‘90s, those messages had impact. Biggie not only represented the poor getting rich, but he also embodied the rap fanatic getting put on, and making the dream album – with beats by Easy Mo Bee, DJ Premier, and Lord Finesse. Agreeably, it’s hard to look at 2007’s Diddy as the same Puff Daddy who put Biggie on in 1993. Still, for a man so associated with his dapper image, Puffy may be the one executive who consistently ignored the standards for image and marketability in his roster – even in recent years with Black Rob or Eightball & MJG. However with Craig Mack and Biggie, Bad Boy’s first two artists, that statement’s never been truer. As 50 Cent claims he put M.O.P. in the gym, Nas got his chipped tooth fixed, and Lil’ Wayne inks his body and ices his teeth, we see the value of image. Aside from expensive Gucci sunglasses, Biggie was carte blanche. Whether it was donning Coogi sweaters on MTV or wrinkled tees in other photo shoots, Biggie had a style, but hardly a marginal image. There was no such thing as camera-ready, and even the Barron Claiborne photo session, which presently appears in The Source, despite Diddy’s dissatisfaction, is the Biggie image frequently used on t-shirts and art prints. This was the artist how you would see him on the block. Although suits and colorful jackets were featured in his last days, Biggie was always palpable – on records and visually. No artist can ever equate to Biggie, because the Hip-Hop audience will never trust another artist the way they trusted him. The leaps that Biggie took between 1994 and 1997 would be unforgivable in today’s climate. The artist went from the king of the corner freestyle flow to somebody with “mo’ money, and mo’ problems.” In many ways, “Suicidal Thoughts” marked the death of Biggie Smalls. Moments later, the Frank White character was born, […]

You know it’s time to evaluate our collective selves when we have ‘other folk’ speaking sensible truths about the plight of our culture. More to the point, when a website such as ALLHIPHOP.com posts an interview with Gene Simmons of KISS, a White ROCK band, who effectively tells us that we need to watch the direction of our music lest we find ourselves by the wayside… we’re in trouble! First Bono addresses the audience of the NAACP Award Show by challenging us to help our own people in Africa suffering from AIDS (leading by example, mind you) and now this! Agreeing that the era of Punk Rock has passed, we may want to beware the Ides of March when such an icon of a once flourishing and now decayed phenomenon sees the same landscape on Hip Hop’s horizon. Recognizing the signs of an industry plagued by mimicked gimmicks and theatrics, Simmons can see the writing on the wall for the generational bridge that is our music. Out of the love and respect we claim to have for it, we have to retag the history of our culture lest we all suffer the irreversible consequences. Life is about (r)evolution, people – change or die. “The Manifesto” We’re suffering from indigestion and massive attacks waged in he(art) beats From the ingestion of half-masticated and charred beef. I’m just indignant enough to suggest we’ve exasperated he(art) disease by feeding into the frenzy. I’m forced to lead an insurrection with flags wavin’ To fight this normalcy with crisp inspection activated… This misdirection isn’t exaggerated – rap is leading into misery. It’s the greed of the industry – you know companies must love it. Misery loves company and companies love the budget. Execs hug when we’re fussin’ as we line corporate pockets. Meanwhile, this weak mentality infiltrates artists That dip into sets just to instigate arguments… This insulated market’s an insult to a paying audience – too blind and absorbed to stop it. But I can see! – I meet such septic wisdom With the hindsight of separatism. I check blindsides with skepticism – despair is a radical threshold! So if you’re tired of this regulating pomposity And ignorant folks celebrating it with pompoms and screams… Separate from this monstrosity – declare a manifesto! If you’re tired of matchin’ up the phantom menace That just got clapped up in a stanza or sentence, Don’t stand for it, end it – the artists will change if no one listens! If you’re tired of average emcees bringing stereotypes to life With their battle MP3s soundin’ as rote as Karaoke night… They’ll barely promote the plight if enough of us strike the mission! Otherwise, the writings on the wall. Others will rise if we reach the height of our fall. Others thrived but in spite of it all, they were @ssed-out once their bridges crumbled. When cleptos run records to the tune of sells, Left exposed and un-refreshed, stale music will get shelved… Once fruitful units will fail as cash crops crash from the drought of witless muddles. So if you’re tired of characters addressin’ their insecurities over mics Or caricatures stressin’ their immaturity vocalized, Put up a fist of fury, convince the jury to VOTE OR DIE – Hip Hop’s life is at stake. It can’t happen overnight, I’m no aficionado of instant change. I just know I’m sick of this Hip Hop of bravado and insipid gains… It’s better to have a tentative delay than to miss the game once its cycle is played. © 2007 Reggie Legend Steel Waters, Inc. reggielegend@hotmail.com

  When AllHipHop.com heads down to Las Vegas twice a year for the MAGIC Convention, we like to find the hottest and newest fashion trends amidst the sea of celebrities and “who’s who” of the fashion industry. When we heard that rock legend Gene Simmons would be at the Dussault booth in the Street Wear section of the convention to launch his own line, we were intrigued. Canadian designer Jason Dussault, the creative mind behind his own Dussault Ink line and business partner for the Gene Simmons Money Bag line, spoke with us about the inspiration behind his mesh of rock and Hip-Hop style. Having hot girls alongside Vancouver, BC Hip-Hop MC Prevail of Swollen Members and KISS founder Gene Simmons certainly helped the hype of the MAGIC booth, but in the end it was the quality of the clothes that got our attention. Jason explained the concept and details behind his very successful custom clothing business, and how he’s taking his independent approach to the world. AllHipHop.com: What I found interesting about this line is it’s really a mesh of rock and urban couture. You’re really catering to a lot of different people with the line. What was your idea behind this? Jason Dussault: It’s exactly right; you nailed it on the head. I don’t want to be put in the hole of a rocker; I don’t want to be put in the hole of Hip-Hop. In fact here right now I have a Hip-Hop artist and I have the ultimate rock artist, Gene Simmons, and Prevail from Swollen Members. The thing is when I put Hip-Hop in my car I love Hip-Hop, when I put rock in my car I love rock. I’m one of those guys that likes all music and I’m very versatile, so I wanted to have clothing and create a line that I would wear. Obviously that would be a mix between the two. Our rockingest piece that you think is so badass and rock inspired, you could have someone who loves Hip-Hop wearing it and it totally works. Some of my Hip-Hop clients are Dallas Austin – he’s come into my Hip-Hop shop in Vancouver and done a custom piece – I’ve done pieces for Lionel Richie, Kid Rock, Gene Simmons, The Black Eyed Peas. So it really sort of spans the whole rock and Hip-Hop markets, I wanna be right in the middle. AllHipHop.com: Ed Hardy was kind of the first to [succeed with] the tattoo look, but now there are many lines [following suit], so a lot of rappers are going to the rock star look. Jason Dussault: 100 percent, I think that if you put on an Ed Hardy hoodie and put on a Dussault hoodie you’re gonna see some big differences. I’ll let you choose which one you like better, but people need to try on our hoodies because they’re much different. AllHipHop.com: Tell us about the detailing, because you’ve got satin on the insides and embroidery mixed with patchwork… Jason Dussault: Yep, it’s a multi-level thing which makes it a nightmare for me to bring across the border because matter has so many materials. It has so many materials because I’m a comfort-first person. I’m not gonna wear something that makes me feel uncomfortable; I wanna live in my clothes. On the inside, where people are really gonna see, it’s like a suit. If it falls open and you look inside you’re gonna see some amazing Chinese embroidered silk. But because that’s heavy you might wanna feel that in the arms, so down in the arm I put a nice light nylon on the inside. But that nylon all the way down to the cuff work grabs you against your wrist, I put velour just in that area. So just two and a half inches of where it’s touching your skin is the softest material you’ve ever felt, and then going into nylon where it’s just slightly touching you, but it’s light so you get that good feeling. AllHipHop.com: Well I would imagine with the detailing alone that the stitching is going to be a little stronger… Jason Dussault: That’s it too – [on] all of our embroidered pieces, rather than just embroider, we highlight them with some bleach and we use paint to darken up the areas, so the piece is really 3-D. If you were to just take an embroidered piece and slap it on just a hoodie, it would be like a lot of the other pieces you see on the market. What I wanna do is give it some depth and a 3-D part so when you see this in the distance walking down the street it jumps out. If you just put it here [on the table] you’re like “Big deal – you put a patch on some material.” In our pieces that go to retail, this [holds up a hoodie] will all be painted with dark paint to give it some depth and highlighted in certain areas with bleach. Whenever [people] put on this hoodie they can not take it off – they buy it every single time whether they have the money or not. I hunted all over the place for the right material, it’s the most important thing, then I put the blur also in the liner, so when you put this over your head it keeps you nice and warm. This is one of my trademarks here, so that when it comes from the back you know it’s a Dussault. I mean, sure people are gonna try to knock us off but we’ll just keep trying to stay ahead. AllHipHop.com: You guys are doing a mixture of tees and hoodies. Is there anything else that comes from the line? Jason Dussault: Yeah we do jeans, we started off as a custom house in Vancouver where people come in and build their own custom hoodies. We still have that shop open so you can come in and say, “Okay I want that […]

What up world! Yeah, your man is back at it again, journalizing my thoughts and internalizing my sport, hypothesizing and prophesizing theories on this outrageously turbulent game that I’ve subjected myself to. So for this installment I might as well make the subject myself: Serius Jones. As you can see, I’m taking this opportunity to use a plethora of diverse linguistics that may baffle those unfamiliar with my level of intellect and cause you to ask yourself, “Who the f*ck is this dude and what the f*ck is he talking about??” That’s all the more reason for you to pay close attention. Allow me to simplify the equation for y’all. What happens when you take a young, gifted and Black man and cross Jersey, New York, college, jail, purple, liquor and a bunch of other zones that we can’t get into right now? Serius Jones is what you get. I can use the booth to vent my frustration from this crazy ass life that I’m living, but I need somewhere to unload the little bit of collegiateness (my word) that’s still left in my brain. This is a completely organic process where I’m basically just flowing off the top of my head using this computer screen so you can have a window into my zone. I just found a great new outlet to voice my thoughts to the world too. Headlines read: “Fight Klub King and highly recruited underground artist Serius Jones signs to Ludacris’ Disturbing Tha Peace record label.” At this very moment several thoughts may enter your mind. You may think you know – but trust me when I say that you have no idea! Technically you could “google me” and read all of the recent interviews where I discussed the singing and explained why I made the move to DTP, but to keep it funky with y’all, them other websites ain’t f*cking with this AllHipHop.com thing, so I chose this outlet to break down my choice from the extended perspective. Unlike your normal happy-to-be-on ass rapper my reasoning goes much deeper than a huge check (which I owe back anyway) or some big name superstar affiliation. I’ve been in the type of lifestyle where I’m forced trust no one and pay attention to my surroundings at all times, so this explanation starts here. In case you didn’t know, the average industry mind state is in a state of emergency. Even though it’s a tired ass cliché, “The rap game is like the crack game” in many ways. Executives are fighting to keep their jobs, labels are flaking out like dandruff and it trickles down to artists. The bigger the business gets, the more risk involved and the integrity of the product suffers. It’s the same thing as young runners on the corners who are only hustling for sneaker change with dreams of getting their proper “shine.” Most of them don’t even know the history of their trade, what they’re selling is really worth or how to cut and manufacture the product they’re selling. They just follow the blueprint that was given and do what they’re told. The same goes for Hip-Hop today. This “anything goes” approach to making disposable and cheap music isn’t new at all, but it’s the millions and billions of dollars generated from this music that has changed the climate drastically from the “Golden Era” of Hip Hop and the drug game. So for a signed artist with a substantial deal on one of the most major labels in the entertainment industry, what does that really mean? Basically it’s the equivalent of a drug dealer that has a Pablo Escobar-esque connect and has convinced him to give some consignment. Whether you have the clientele to move this amount of work is on you as a businessman, because all that is given to you, you will be fully responsible for. Every car service pick up, studio session, the plane tickets for your squad, etc… Now what happens if you take on all this responsibility without the ability to perform? Ask 90% of the rappers out here. The “only takes one” philosophy is looked at as the bottom line approach to marketing and selling an artist in today’s market. In a gunshell it means as long as you have a hit single then nothing else matters. You might have a good time in the club when this radio/club sounding record that the label thinks is your only chance comes on, but for the rest of the week, what do you have to zone to? Then they wonder why these albums don’t sell. So I don’t blame fans for downloading one song off a website. Bootlegging my s### doesn’t count though! I don’t have the time to prove this example, but next time you watch TV for an hour just count how many advertisements and commercials you see… then multiply that number by how many channels you have… then times that number by 24 hours a day/7 days a week all across the nation. I have no clue what that number would be but that’s got to be at least an advertisement every second! This country is a hustle! Even if it’s not a product you know, there’s always someone trying to sell you a dream. Every step of your life someone is trying to sell you something. Think about it. It gets to a point where we want to at least feel good about what we spend our paper on… feel me? Let’s put it in hood terms. If I cop a bag of haze for 20 cash and its only 0.7 grams on the scale, I’m not upset because I know what I’m getting is quality and I believe in the product. (Hint) It has a catchy name, it’s accessible, but it’s still exclusive and it lives up to its name. It’s respected in the hood and now the suburb wants it, so there’s an established fan base for it. Now here’s where we get […]

Whatup? Since my last entry, there’s been a whole lot goin on over here. I’m putting the finishing touches on my second mixtape ESSObama: The Champagne Campaign and I’ve also been working on another project called Separated At Birth that I recorded last week with IB3, an artist out of Houston that’s signed to Mathew Knowles’ Music World Entertainment label. ESSObama has been pretty much in the works since the day ESSOcentric came out. The success of the first mixtape is one of the main reasons that you’re even reading my journal here in the first place. I was also fortunate enough to be named “Unsigned Hype” by The Source magazine, appear on MTV’s Sucker Free, be reviewed by Scratch Magazine, and currently I’m also gonna be appearing in an ad campaign for Azzure Denim. With all of that coming based off of one CD, I knew going into recording the second mixtape that I was really going to have to outdo myself. The first difference that people are gonna notice from the first mixtape is the hosting. Sickamore is still ridin with me, but this time I also got Cipha Sounds to co-host. Cipha has been real supportive of everything I been doing, and when I asked him to get involved he was with it. There’s also a lot more original music on the new mixtape than before. Now that the stakes are higher, I knew I had to take it to a whole different level, so more of the original work is on there. Other than that, there are a few surprises I’m not gonna give away here, but when it comes out, you’ll get a better idea of what I’ve been working on. The second project I’ve been working on recently is Separated At Birth, a collaboration album that me and IB3 (http://www.myspace.com/ib3) put together during a trip I took to Houston. IB is an artist I really respect and believe in, so it was a great opportunity to go down to H-Town and lock in the studio with her for a week. We did 16 songs in four days, all completely original, and its kinda crazy how the music came out. I don’t want to talk too much about Separated because it has the potential to really be something huge, I’ll have more info on that as it develops…but I want to thank everyone at Music World that welcomed me while I was down there, and I gotta thank Chris, Nino, Coline and Phil for making sure that I was good while I was down there. So here we are in February, a month away from the end of the first quarter, and the grind is in full 1000% motion. March is gonna be a real big month for me, so definitely stay tuned to see how that plays out, and more info on the release of ESSObama: The Champagne Campaign. Other than that, you can always hit me on MySpace (http://www.myspace.com/esso), the official website (http://www.essomusic.com) or by email talk2esso@gmail.com. GONE. -E

When I think about the assassinations of Black Leaders such as Malcolm X and Martin Luther King and reflect upon the Black Community’s reaction to these tragedies, I’m compelled to question whether the deaths of Biggie and Tupac affected the Hip-Hop Community in the same manner. The length of this comparison begins and ends with the great influence these people had and have on the community they affected. This is not about the content of their moral ethics or message. This is more about questioning what happens to our Black Influential Leaders once they hit a significant level of Power. It seems since the beginning of time the good old “Divide and Conquer” tactic has never failed. One thing I must get straight before I continue… I consider both Biggie and Pac “MCs.” To me, there is a difference between “MCs” and “rappers.” At one point in Hip-Hop, they were the same, but when Hip Hop went multi-platinum, it seems as though the music broke off into two parts. The first being, “Hip-Hop Music” which to me, keeps the focus on the culture and the love of the artform. The second being, “Rap Music” which to me, is all about making that money. There is nothing wrong with making money. It’s just when you place the money before the music, the culture looses it’s potency… it’s heartbeat. Is it possible that after the deaths of Malcolm X and Martin Luther King, people were forced to make a choice. If they were to remain fighting for their culture, they were risking their own deaths or the possible deaths of some of their family members and peers. On the other hand, perhaps there were others who felt that it was time to start changing their lives by striving to be financially successful. I guess trying to change individually to strengthen the whole. To many, this might be perceived as if one was forgetting their people, thinking only of themselves and selling out. Can this be the reason for the Fall of Hip-Hop? Has the assassinations of Biggie and Pac caused MCs to fall back and steer away from the Hip Hop Culture? Most emcees have not made it to the level of power that Biggie and Pac has. There are many “Million Dollar Rappers” though, but, in my opinion, they don’t possess the Humility and Charisma that “Real Leaders” exude. Are there any more emcees who are willing to step up to the plate and bear the stressful realities of being a leader, which can often mean being underpaid, unappreciated, underrated, criticized, and hated… I believe there are. In fact I know they exist, but unfortunately they are forced to lay back in the cut as the so called Hip-Hop listeners remain blinded by the luster of all the ice, platinum, and gold that infests the sound waves. Sadly, when I think about the deaths of all these amazing people of power, I ponder on how much positive change has been made since their deaths. I’m not talking about words of gratitude and days of celebration. I’m talking about a significant change in the minds and behaviors of our people. Don’t get me wrong. We have come a long way, but is that way paved with financial glitter and gold as opposed to our love and respect for one another. Are we allowing that part of our history to repeat itself? Lin Que is formerly known as Isis of The X-Clan. She can be contacted through www.myspace.com/linquemusic

With so many visiting and viewing the demise of Hip-Hop in its public hospice, has anyone given any thought to exactly WHO is directly responsible for its ravaged condition? Granted, it’s easy to say that many have contributed to spreading life-threatening poison that have left it in a state of septic shock; I argue that its venomous commercialization within a corporate industry can be traced back to one singular event. One definitive moment in time from one of Hip Hop’s most acclaimed artists. The ‘bigger than life’ lyricist whom I speak of is none other than Christopher Wallace a.k.a. The Notorious B.I.G. – the event is the release and worldwide saturation of his debut album: Ready to Die. Prophetically titled, this album marked the proverbial ‘beginning of the end’ of Hip Hop. What Big brought into this music with his style and delivery essentially created cancerous replicas that have overpowered the regenerative properties bred from innovation. Biggie’s success has fostered a movement that has placed precedence on abandoning originality as rapper’s poorly mimic such an aboriginal flow – ironically keeping his legacy alive while effectively killing the very essence of Hip-Hop in the process. “D.I.E. Cast Modeling” Hip Hop needs revivin’. Switchin’ to pop can’t revitalize it. What kids have adopted and idolize is a shell with no ghost. The reason being is a thesis That’ll be treasonous to its elitists… As the trace leads the deceased to the reaping and selling of its soul. While a only a small handful can resuscitate it, Only one had the balls and can-do to crush and maim it. But trust, we don’t hate him – we venerate him for the disastrous path of his success. And though we recognize it needs to heave with fresh heirs, We’ve mechanized it to breathe with a fresh pair of Airs… It’s a reckless affair – what he innovated is imitated in the aftermath of his death. Big Poppa’s verse brought Hip-Hop’s hearse – metaphorically and literally speaking. Big’s thoughts have been cursed to riddle his offspring’s words – These toddlers perform as lyrical leaches illegally. Who can grieve easily when they bemoan his death by plagiarizin’?!! So there it is, I’ve said it – Hip Hop’s been ready to die. It’s imperative that I spread it – It’s rhythm stopped when Big dropped Ready to Die… He was steady formaldehyde – as his tone’s frozen death in an age plagued with pages of lyin’. From such a fluid influence Numerous crews have endlessly intruded. These foolish trend keepers are a nuisance – their vigor’s aborted. So many dead men are talking With pen scrawl jockeying Are the living dead dawdling – clenched in the clutches of rigor mortis. What Big did so notoriously Wasn’t so unique historically. Before his reach, N.W.A. and Ice-T supplied text for young guns in the street. But what they broached was too controversial. Biggie’s approach was more subconsciously versatile… It was adopted as universal – less abrasive with finer finessed ‘tongue in cheek’ speech. So when rappers glimpsed what Big recorded, They couldn’t resist the allure to extort it. Rewriting his hits was enormous! – it afforded them deals and labels. So though Biggie Smalls was the illest in rap, Biggie’s gall is what killed it, in fact… As Biggie’s Mini-Mes maraud and pilfer his tracks as they steal from his fables. His wordplay of hash and bricks Made hearses take tragic trips. Mad rappers flipped out into doped MCs. After him, creativity peaked and crashed quick As lyrics laced with obscenities for fiends and addicts Made cats lapse on unclean craftmatics – taking dirt naps from rote medleys. While efficiently mimicking his tendencies for faster lives of fortune, These Mini-Mes essentially leave Biggie’s afterlife distorted. They’ve critically fractured his life supported with their deathly endeavors. Much the way cancer replicates itself incessantly As its anthem suffocates the health of cell integrity… The wealth of treasury in self-efficacy lessens from such desperate embezzlers. These copy and paste lyricists Are a Xeroxed disgrace to an imperialist. Hypnotized into deliriousness, they’re lobotomized zombies. Stumbling as they walk in Big’s Timbs and Karl Kanis, They’re too trim – Slim, these aren’t your size!… You’re disqualified – your parchment’s dry like fallen leaves. Turning his words into a dirge willed a legacy’s demise, Interred and fulfilled a destiny to die. It’s a lesson we’ve denied to learn – in turn, this is the first of many cycles. Once resurrected and redirected, Substance vested must be injected to protect it… Lest we reinvest this decrepit vestige imbedded into a dearth that’s intently idle. Such life that imitates art instigates tragic death When mics ricochet thoughts of intimidated artists too afraid to initiate tactics refreshed. The timid fate of such stagnant success is indebted to a stupendous patron. This significance decays the tattered device Of the Biggest sway of a swaggered rapper’s delight… As the sickness displayed satisfies an afterlife of Death In Emulation.