“The Product,” Ice Cube
The politics of this song are nuanced and layered. They speak the psycho-social damage that Black men undergo as the world n*ggerizes them from birth.
Off the Kill At Will EP, the only extended play project that the Ice Cube ever made, is this stingingly descriptive biography that takes us from seed to tomb.
“And it was hell tryin to bail to the ovary … With nothin’ but the Lord lookin’ over me … I was white with a tail … But when I reached the finish line young Black male! One cell made two and two cells made fo’ … And so on so now I’m a embryo … Then I got a hunch … That I’ma be on lock down, for nine months … Chillin’, with my mother to guide me … And nothin’ but a stomach to hide me … From all that worry and bullshit … Nine months later, I elbow pull and kick … Cause my time is up and I don’t care … With one big push, I’m outta there … June 15th, it’s just my luck … In 1969, a nigga is the product.”
At 21, Cube was still a relatively new solo artist and was becoming regarded for adding significant substance to the street-influenced lyrics which trademarked his time as a member of NWA. This track captures the idea that some people are born to be disregarded, abused and struggle as it takes a first-person journey of a kid being born, growing up in South Central, and navigating almost every pitfall the hood has to offer a young Black Man. No happy endings here, just dark reality, he graphicly paints the picture of how the educational system did not serve him.
“Cause I’m sittin’ in history … Learnin’ bout a sucker, who didn’t give a f*ck about me … They try to shape us … But I know Uncle Sam is a mother*ckin’ rapist … So I stopped payin’ attention Ice Cube, headed, straight to detention …”
But it is also from this space that he (and so many others) reshape the dreams of their parents and become civic pariahs and the scourge of the community introducing drugs and gangbanging into their narrative.
“A high school dropout … My father had beef so I tried to knock pops out … But I got tossed, he’s the boss … I’m out of there and mad cause I lost … Now bein’ on my own is a factor … So I become, the neighborhood jacker … Gimme your car, run your jewels … Makin’ a livin’ robbin’ fools … And if I let my nine rang out … You know, it’ll make your brains hang out … So what’s your fate? Am I the nigga you love, or the one you love to hate? The wrong answer is said, the nigga fled … I pump lead, now he’s in a puddle of red … And if you got a buck, you’re shit out of luck … Stuck up by the mother*ckin’ product.”