Disposable Art

http://www.datpiff.com/ICONOGRAPHIC_RECORDS_TONY_GRANDS_Grandzilla.m72617.html


I started rapping when I was 13. Doing little shows, making karaoke demos, & finally recording material at a legitimate studio-rapping, as opposed to freestyling with random dream chasers or writing songs instead of doing homework. I come from a generation where the ability to rap was a skill, & whatever was crafted was art. With me, never once was it a money making scheme, a "get rich or die trying" crusade, per se, but a love for words & an affinity for rhythm. It made perfect sense, too, because I've never been that good at basketball, & my nuts weren't big enough to sell drugs.


That link up top is to an album my nigga Esquire (the producer) & I recorded about 5 years ago. Please, download it & enjoy, if you haven't already. If there's something you like, great. Burn a copy for your friends. Use it as a soundtrack to a YouTube video. Or toss it in the trash bin, & accept my apologies for wasting precious time & hard drive space. I couldn't care less. Point is, getting paid for my "art" was never a part of the plan. Very similar to my writing. These things I do out of love, & if others are able to find pleasure it what I do, thats fan-fucking-tastic..


Rappers these days aren't born. There manufactured. Somewhere there's an assembly line, & a couple of times a year, the newest model of audio hustler is unveiled, & unleashed to the public, under the guise of representing an art form, a culture. No dice. These niggas are in it solely for the possibility of getting paid. No more, no less. It's a tad bit sad, depending on your vantage point.


Anybody who remotely follows the music business is fully aware of the crack pipe dreams it offers. The entertainment industry as a whole, for that matter. It's not a real job, so to speak, & while it's is possible to live off of talent, assuming you have said talent, nowadays people with such goals are adamant on becoming uber-mega-superstars, who use $50 bills as toilet tissue & eat seafood 7 days a week. That's an unrealistic minority. The majority is a somber group of people who lack the skill, knowledge &/or "it" factor to stand out, in a crowd of hundreds of thousands. & the 'Net just leveled the playing field, so good luck on your career choice.


I'm not gonna name drop specific artists who I think may be responsible for the less than noble state of Hip Hop music, but I'll blame man's fervent thirst for monetarily compensated under-achievement. & that way, the umbrella covers all parties involved. Money changes things. Fact. Once the flood gates opened on rap music being a somewhat lucrative business, with the opportunity for quick, profitable turnaround, anybody with at least a 3rd grade level of comprehension & access to a recording device decided to dive into the music game, feet first. Once that happened, the art, natural skill & prowess folks once took great pride in, was replaced by greed, gluttony, & an assload of luck. & again, the 'Net just leveled the playing field, so good luck with your career choice.

Saying that everybody wants to be a rapper is an understatement. Here I was wanting to share a "gift" with the world. Coincidentally I learned, quite some time ago, that I'm not built for such a egregious, erroneous, ass backwards, self-serving, cock sucker line of work. I tip my hat to those who have the gumption to stick it out, really though. They know who they are, & so do their fans. I'm sure if I have the opportunity to get back in the studio, I'll jump. But again, my love of words & affinity for rhythm would be the driving force. Not money, or my lack thereof.


I used to take my son to the studio with me. In fact, he's on a couple of songs I did. Albeit as a baby, but even still. Now, instead of saying "Daddy, I'm gonna be a rapper," he's says things like, "I wanna own my own store. I wanna be an astronaut. I wanna be a scientist. Then I can be the president or something, too, huh Daddy?"

Indeed...

T.I. should meet my uncle.

Can you imagine how many rappers wish they were in T.I.'s position right now?


No shots, but Mystikal, Mr. "Shake It Fast," served a little over 5 years for some unsavory business etiquette towards a female member of his entourage. As successful as he was pre-"Bitch betta have my money (or else swallow throat lotion!)," dude comes home to little fanfare whatsoever. The few fans who were excited about his return, are lost in the message boards of articles & blog drops about his release. Lost, as in a "Mystikal's back!" is met by 25 commentors calling him a criminal, & throwing around words like "extortion," & "rapist." I'm not a judge, so I don't condemn. I just hoped he learned something, aside from how to live with nothing but men for years at a time. Point being, many people don't even know he's home. Of those they do know, most don't really care. His ship has long since sailed unfortunately, & not even the great Percy Miller himself can undo that. Shit, P can't even keep his own brother out of jail, so good luck with him relaunching a rap career that's long been dead in the water. "Watch yaself," indeed. It'll be interesting to see if Mystikal jumps into the viral ring, or fades into absolute obscurity. How much you wanna bet that he's set on putting 'The NEW, New No Limit' back on the map. No dice. & I don't think it's so much that we, the fans & heads & afficianados, turn our backs on artists during trial & tribulation, so much as it's just that niggas have better shit to do. Any man who believes life will stop for him is a fool doomed to failure by his own stagnation. I'm almost positive he wishes he was in T.I.'s position.


Again, no shots, but Prodigy of Mobb Deep, is in a curious situation. Mind you, I'm a Hip Hop Head from the early 80's, & still, if I had to name a rapper who I could quote verse for verse, song by song, it would be Prodigy, before NaS, or even Redman. There was a period in my life where I had a BIG ASS poster of 'The Infamous' album cover on my wall, over my bed. No homo. Call me a stan, but I'd prefer you call me a Tony (ha!). Sorry, that was corny. A lot of people may not know that P has sickle cell anemia, a blood disease that affects people of color, that can cause death. The girl I lost my virginity to had it. That shit is no joke. It almost seems unbelievable. I know all to well how it can affect a person. Yet & still, this nigga wants to be a thug. Carrying guns, fighting people, going back & forth to jail, where he sits now, as what remains of his music career sits in limbo. Not to mention, the apex of his career came & went while he was still free, so now what? Dude's gotta be at least 30-something by now. The number of people who probably don't even know who he is greatly outweighs the amount of people who anxiously wait for his release. Saddest part is that 50 Cent (Whaddup MDub!!) seems to be his only remaining tie to rap music at this point. Good luck with that, P. I put him in a category I call "When Keepin It Real Goes Right," because apparently these dudes want this life. Mistakes are one thing, but repetition is insanity. I'm pretty sure he wishes he was in T.I. position.


Which all brings me to my point about T.I.'s position. As a rapper, boundaries are set as to what you can or can't do, lest you be wished into the cornfield by the public at large. The nay-say is loud & plentiful, but the truth is that T.I. is arguably the most successful rap dude of 2009. Success, in terms of popularity, record sales & media attention. Dude held a press conference last year. Now, I don't remember what it was about, but what rap nigga does that? & wasn't the police chief or somebody there with him? This guy got a television show, based around a crime that he only served about 8 months for. If that's not "success" in some variation or another, feel free to correct me. Unlike most young, Black felons, he has the chance to come home, & make a difference, especially on a worldwide scale. The same difference he made when he began his arbitrary reality show, which to me, was a pretty good idea. Who would you take sound, sage advice from; your grandfather, or some nigga who lives a life you wish you did? Just saying.


I'm not one to recalibrate another one's moral compass, but it would be nice to have a high-profile celebrity bring some positive energy to a culture that seeks instant gratification, yet ignores any repercussion. The listening world knows all about what T.I. has done to harm his impending society, so why not be an asset, in the public eye, to reverse the detriment? I always say society loves a rehabilitated convict with a story to tell. That trumps a "feel-good movie" any day of the week. Now's his chance to be a role model, at a time when we really don't have any left. Again, just saying.


I have an uncle, who served 7 years on federal drug charges. Dude got home early last year. When I was growing up, this cat was rich. Literally. In a White people way. He moved from Compton & Firestone to Rancho Cucamunga, & had unnecessary luxuries as far as the eye could see. I loved going over there, looking for shit to steal, even though he would've given it to me if I asked. Dude was so heavy in the street that every time I rode with him, we got pulled over. Here I am, a kid, being treated like a man because my uncle's a known drug dealer. Everybody knows a hustler, or the neighborhood dope man, but this cat was far removed from all that. With all sincerity, 'Scarface' was very, very similar to his life story, except the ending. Anyway, he came over yesterday to pick up some mail. In his work truck. He drives for some meat-packing [||] company, delivering dead animals to businesses for food consumption. A humbling job, to say the least. To the multitude of kids he has (yes, MULTITUDE), he's a hard working cat, trying to provide the best way he can. Only his oldest daughter is of an age where she could slightly recall when this guy was ridiculously paid. Albeit by poisoning the community, but paid nonetheless. All the others know is that daddy's finally out of jail. Point being, he touched down with the intention of doing the right thing(s), by his kids, if nobody else. That's the least he can do. It's imperative that the kids see that, especially with the stories of their father they undoubtedly have heard about. You know kids stay eavesdropping. One of the first things he did when he got out was to check on me, hearing about my run-in with death via alcohol. He had some very wise advice, too. It was obvious he'd thought long & hard about the life he lived, & for all the evil he'd exposed me to, as a kid, he was know shedding much needed positive light on me, as a man. That's that real shit, fuck the fake.


It would be nice if T.I. employed that same attitude for the thousands, upon thousands of young folks who look up to him. He's blessed with the opportunity to help, from the inside out, & us positive Black men could sure use the manpower, really though.

Brains>Brain

Sometimes, you just have to envy the downtrodden. Mo' money, mo' problems, indeed. I imagine life is easiest when you're biggest worry is if you're going to eat later that day. Really though, worst case scenario, you could stand outside of a McDonalds, & look extremely pitiful, & some empathetic douche would buy you a McGriddle, or a McDouble, depending on what time it is. Either way, hunger knows no caloric intake. Tell a hungry man about his cholesterol, & he'll ask you if you're going to finish all of your fries. I make it a habit to give to the less fortunate, however I can. I save my aluminum cans for this homeless lady who trolls the neighborhood garbage cans, I buy this one dude a couple of burgers when I see him near my sons school, hell, if you need .35, & ask correctly, I may give you an entire dollar bill. Fuck what you plan to "really" do with it, as long as I know my heart is in the right place. That's why I try & feed somebody, as opposed to giving them cash. I'll be damned if a crackhead is going to smoke a .99 burrito. & if he does, God bless his lungs & throat lining. Point is, of all the people I come into contact with on a daily basis, the ones without much are usually the happiest. It may just be famine-induced hysteria, or a lack of nutrients has them unable to do much more than smile & nod, but they sure as hell seem content to me. Content beats contrite everyday of the Christian calendar.


As for these guys with assloads of dough, pause, their lives seem to be hell on wheels, floating in gasoline & nitroglycerin. One would assume that, given the opportunity to live life by one's own jurisdiction, that person would be diligent in finding peace & happiness. If a homeless man can do it, sleeping on a bus stop & eating what I throw away, surely it can be done if a man has the means to provide comfortably for himself. Now, I'm not pointing fingers, but I'm going to use two great examples. This has nothing to do with race, or profession. Any similarities are purely coincidental.


Shaquille O'Neal & Eldrick "Tiger" Woods. For all intents & purposes, these niggas are dumber than Katt Williams. For all the smarts that Eldrick seems to exude, he must not have ever read a book, watched a movie, or listened to a rap song. Otherwise, he'd know how counterproductive the wrong women can be. Especially when there's throngs of them, stroking your proverbial ball sack (pron: ego) to their benefit. I'm sure it's just the fact that guys who play Golf appear smarter than common folk, but I'm just saying. The more I watch, the more I see drunken hillbillies swinging sticks. As for Shaq, anything stupid he does, I just chalk up to him not being the curliest fry in the combo meal, per se. Dude may look like a dolphin, but by no means is he as smart as one. I know plenty dudes who play basketball for their respective schools, & not one of them is a math whiz. Or english, science or history for that matter, but again, just saying.


[tony's note: dolphins are mad smart, really though. flipper would kick lassie's ass...]


It's common knowledge that rich guys like toys. Side women, or jump-offs, are no different than a shiny new car or a ginormous television, or what have you. In a lot of cases, the toys can be detrimental. A motorcycle can kill you. A car can kill you. A woman can suck you dry-no pun intended, & drag your name through the mud like a plow mule. When cats get toys, especially real nice ones, they tend to neglect the important things. Now, in the case of inanimate objects, that don't mind the times when you walk away, that's not an issue. But, real-life, silicon/botox filled people? That becomes disastrous on several levels. What begins with wifey asking where you been, quickly becomes fancy plaything asking where are you going, & before you know it, Gloria Allred has you in the figure-four, sodomizing your bank account. Maybe it's my inner-poor person speaking, but that seems like an absolute bummer.


I rarely feel sorry for rich people, even when they're handicapped, but there's always a soft spot in my heart for a fool. When foolish behavior borders on absolute ignorance though, no dice. Even I know when to turn off the video games, & tend to my better half. I actually mean video games, that's not a euphemism.


Money can buy you brain, but it can't buy you brains...

Lloyd Banks Clan Aint Nuttin' Ta Fuck Wit!

"Rapper Lloyd Banks and three associates were arrested in Ontario, Canada this weekend for assaulting a promoter. According to reports, Banks and the three other men assaulted Hines in a hotel room near Kitchener, when Hines reportedly refused to pay Banks for the performance. Banks was allegedly late to the venue and only performed one song and walked off the stage, further inciting an already agitated crowd. The four men will be charged with assault, robbery and forced confinement."-AllHipHop.com


Canada must be way more hardbody than we give it credit for. Remind me to go back & listen to see if DJ Quik said it was 'Jus Lyke Compton.' Maybe they just don't like Americans, & all that weed smoke in the air has created a society with no inhibitions, thusly, rappers get shit thrown at them on stage, prostitution is legal, etc. Personally, I wouldn't fuck around in a place where the cops ride horses, moose-shooting is a pastime, & hockey is the most popular sport. Where else do they let you beat the hell out of each other, sit down & rest as a "penalty", only to come back with a stick & an even worse disposition? Mayweather's playing around with this supposed Pac-man fight, when he should be trying out for the Toronto Maple Leaf's, really though. Although, thanks to Gilbert Arenas, the NBA is slowly making it's way back up the totem pole of gulliness. No shots-pun intended.


After all the verbiage thrown his way, you'd think Lloyd Banks would've staked out every Arby's below the Mason-Dixon by now, in hopes of running across Rick Ross the rapper, or every dope spot, on the chance that Young Buck may be trolling in or out. No dice. I don't condone violence, but once Ross the rapper put it out there that Banks was a gay porn star, & videos emerged of a dude that really did look a lot like him humping another man in the keister, I'da had to run up on homie. Even if it meant cutting my knuckles to the white meat on bulletproof beard. But that's not the point...


[tony's note: the gay, lloyd banks-look-alike-porn star took his new found fame, & released a rap song. that was an awkward, but smart move. just saying...]


The point is that, these rappers kill me with the way they handle their business. If I didn't sell a whole hell of a lot of records, & yet people still wanted to pay me to perform, there's no way on Earth I'd be late. Maybe I'm the silly one for thinking "rapping" is a legitimate job. There was nothing between a dwindling Lloyd Banks & his pay day but air & opportunity. That's like, all I have to eat at home is Cup O' Noodles, & Wienerschnitzel's is offering me all-you-can eat corn dogs as long as I eat them there, for people to see me. No question; corn dogs, FTW! & if I was late for the wiener buffet, pause, I can't be mad at the manager, much less have my weed carriers stomp him out. I would've politely asked for an extra large chili fries, with onions, & went on about my merry way.


You know Hip Hop is getting disrespectful when the weed carrier's weed carriers are handing out ass whippings.


At the least, Banks could've just got at the man one-on-one, with carriers on stand-by, so if he started losing, they could've stepped in & minimalized the damage. Makes sense to me. But then again, I'm not a rapper. At the most, Judge Mathis seems to be a pretty fair cat. He could've took dude on the show to sue him, got his money plus extra compensation, AND been on T.V. Instead, the niggas in jail, with his crew in tow. & the lawsuit shoe will most definitely be on the other foot now.


I sort of feel sorry for Banks, because as talented as he is, he never fully reached his potential. I'm sure standing behind 50 Cent in all the promo shots, & doing his ad-libs at every performance sounded like a good idea at first. Now it's probably clear that such a "career" move may have stifled him a bit. This whole episode reeks of a bitter rapper & his band of henchmen taking out their hunger pangs on a man that's just trying to make an honest buck. I would argue that his arrest might help him realize that being a rap cat doesn't make one above the law, but apparently rappers think going to jail is good for publicity these days, so, yeah. For all we know, the promoter guy may have been ready to work out an agreement with Banks, & Banks, needing a popularity boost, screamed "G-G-G-G-G-G-Unit!" at the top of his lungs & chopped him in the throat. Rappers seem to have a backwards sense of productivity these days. Even the irrelevant ones.


Without Interscope on his back, Lloyd is free to make major moves, & he's arguably one of the better free agents out there right now. Assuming this case goes to trial, & he faces time behind bars, this is the perfect time to drop that new mixtape. Jail time is the new magazine advertisement, & I wouldn't put it past Lloyd to have done this shit on purpose, word to Gucci Mane.

Hi. My name is Tony.

"Prosecutors are prepared to indict Michael Jackson's doctor for involuntary manslaughter in the death of the pop star, ABC News has learned. Dr. Conrad Murray, a Las Vegas-based cardiologist who was with Jackson when the pop singer died after receiving a lethal cocktail of painkillers and anesthetics June 25, has long been the focus of a homicide investigation."-via ABCnews.com


I don't claim to be an expert in a lot of things in life. A few things, I just know a lot of stuff about, other things I know enough to sprinkle some big words around & appear like I know more than I actually do, & sometimes, I'm just smart enough to know when to shut the hell up, & soak up some knowledge. More people should learn that "shut up & soak" method. I'm positive the world would be a much better place. Funny thing about that though is, the older I get, the more I learn, & the more I learn, the more I see that I don't really know a whole hell of a lot about anything. Go figure. Then again, I've heard that a wise man knows that in actuality, he doesn't know shit. & that, in essence, makes him wiser than most. So, yeah.


Unfortunately, if I had to say I had any actual field of expertise, it would be in addiction. Mine was one of alcohol, but I learned in rehab & therapy that addiction knows no preference. Crack, heroin, crystal meth, beer, it's all the same to addiction. It doesn't base it's target on any specific attributes. It's very flexible & open-ended, like bisexuality. No shots. Addiction is a disease, like AIDS. & I mean that as in, you may or may not be born with it, but once you've got it, only with tender care & education can it be controlled. If you treat it with cavalier abandon, it will destroy you.


[tony's note: im not comparing anything to aids, because that's in a horrible class by itself. god bless anyone who's had to deal with it. that was just for illustration purposes...]


Of course, there are those who seem to magically alleviate the disease, like Earvin Johnson appears to have done with "The Monster," but those people are far & few between. For the most part, it's a sickness that must be treated as soon as the symptom's re-occur. Like a psychological herpes outbreak, except it can kill you.


Now, pardon me as I do a little character assassination. The faint of heart my want to close their eyes. Michael Jackson was a drug addict. I know drug addicts. I'm related to drug addicts. I'm an alcohol addict. Hell, I know quite a few people addicted to food. Point is, the symptoms are the same, & one addict can see another one a mile away. I remember in my rehab classes, the majority of us were alcoholics. I was the worst off, with mild cirrohsis, pneumonia, dehydration, malnutrition, & a host of other ailments that tried their hardest to murder me. The other booze hounds were a lighter grade of addict, & for all intents & purposes, you wouldn't know they drank constantly. Except for one lady who was dark pink; a shade of pink that says she probably poured wine in her breakfast cereal. Aside from us bottle jockeys, there were a few crackheads, & one dude who was obviously riding the "white horse." No bullshit, the first day he came is, he admitted he'd been snorting cocaine all night, & fell asleep in the middle of talking. Snoring & all. I've never seen a person do that. After about 5 seconds of sounding like he was choking on his tongue, he opened his eyes, pulled on his nose, & kept talking. Even our counselor roffled. One guy had a gambling problem, but he was mostly there on a court mandate for drug trafficking. His twin brother was there too, but it was because he smoked way too much weed. Niggas call themselves potheads? No dice. This guy was a pothead. He was basically a cartoon character with flesh. There was this real cool little Asian dude who was in there for huffing. Huffing is inhaling man-made chemicals like paints, cleaners, or solvents. His choice was computer keyboard cleaner. Dude passed out & hit his head on the computer he was supposed to be cleaning one day. That's how his girlfriend found out about his problem, & she threatened to leave him if he didn't get help. He thought the whole ordeal was humorous. & so did we. Funny thing about honest addicts; we laugh at ourselves. When we're away from the judgment of the "normies," & alone with others who understand us, man, that shit's fucking beautiful. It's just horrible that we all develop such intimate relationships behind such atrocious circumstances. Believe me when I say, some of the coolest people I've come across in my life were addicts.


Of about 25 people who were there my entire nine month stint, I'd say 5 relapsed, 2 just never came back, & the others, like me, were determined not to let this addiction get the best of us. I couldn't have left if I wanted, because my legs were painfully swollen due to bodily fluid distribution as a result of my blood transfusion & salt intake, liver swelling, or something like that, & I needed a walker to get around. Yeah, the kid was down for the count. But, unlike a lot of addicts, being so close to death really gave me a renewed outlook on what was important. I'd given over a decade of my life to hardcore, care-free liquor consumption, & fuck that shit. What kind of a punk would I be to die from alcoholism? I'm not saying I'm a punk for having a problem. I'm saying I'd be a punk for laying down & giving up on myself. My wife. My kids. Nah, fuck that shit.


After I was released from the hospital, & started regaining my health, life was a brand new experience. Literally, I left Kaiser a completely different man. I appreciated everything. My first dip back into reality, & off of the "pink cloud" (google that), was when I'd learned, from my wife, that my mother had pulled her to the side, at some point during my hospitalization, & blamed her for my drinking. Wow. I hadn't been mad like that in years. I didn't know the meaning of the word 'livid' until I was livid. How the fuck is she blaming anybody? If she wanted to lay blame, real type, she should've started in the mirror, but that's a post for another day.


There wasn't one single, solitary time in my addiction that anyone made me drink. Unless you count Satan, because we should all know by now that he has the whole world in his hands. Even still, it was my choice, my doing, & I'd never cop out to blaming someone else. Had I died in that hospital bed, like the doctors had told me I probably would, it would have been completely my fault. Granted, most of the individuals in my immediate circle didn't try & stop me, but that had more to do with me being so adamant about drowning my liver in the sauce that they let me be, rather than argue with a lethargic, incoherent fool. The further I sank into my depression, as the disease accelerated, I'd blame myself in various, inexplicable ways (another post, I promise), but never would I stoop to a level of unfiltered cowardice, & blame anyone else.


Conrad Murray, while he was wrong for helping, is not to blame for the mental shortcomings of Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson was addicted to various substances before he even meet Dr. Murray. Just because he was the "King of Pop" doesn't warrant a witch hunt. That's bullshit. Even if Murray administered the last amount of drugs that ultimately killed Michael Jackson, he didn't wander into Jackson's home, off of the street, & attack him with a needle. Michael opened that window long ago, when whatever bothered him got so bad that he needed unnatural disconnect to make it better. I speak from experience. For this man to be the fall guy is absurd, especially with Mike being a 50 year old rich dude, more than capable of making his own decisions. If he was cognizant enough to tell Dr. Murray what drugs he needed, he was also cognitive enough to tell someone that he needed help. Really though.


On April 1, it will have been 2 years since I've had a drink. Hooray for me!

Playing With Fire(Power)

I like guns. Like most dudes, there's something about them that just draws my attention. Dr. Francis Cress-Welsing wrote in her book 'The Isis Papers', they're phallic, symbolic of our penises, an extension-if you will, & we know that niggas love grabbing their junk for what the reason. Perhaps that's why whenever the opportunity presents itself to take pictures holding one, authentic or not, dudes jump on it. Really though, we all have flicks holding somebody's piece, mean-mugging, praying that shit doesn't go off. Fuck a manslaughter charge. My love affair with firearms started with my grand pops. He fought in WWII, & killed a german dude, took his pistol & brought it back to the states. He presented it to my dad like a trophy of his awesomeness. My dad still has it, & I'm sure one day he'll give it to me. He probably would've given it to me years ago, but you all know, I'm barely about 2 years into my recovery, so, yeah. God forbid I relapse with an old ass gun, & decide I don't appreciate some people as much as I think I do in sobriety. So, I understand. Hell, it's not even registered in this country. Just saying.


The infamous Ray Benzino has started a rather juvenile beef with Royce the 5'9", of the group Slaughterhouse, as of last week. Now normally, a couple of grown men exchanging insults via songs & Internet footage wouldn't be a reason to look twice. I mean, that's what Hip Hop is about these days, right? Too much testosterone, with a hint of misplaced emotional outbursts, & a twinge of personal attack, thanks to Curtis Jackson & company. What makes this incident a little more special than usual, is the fact that it didn't transpire to this point over the course of, say, a few months, or after a run-in somewhere, giving both of their weed carriers a chance to hoop & holler at one another as they "shoved" rent-a-cops out of the way. On the contrary, Benzino hit up the web, & immediately started talking guns, showing guns, & made several references to niggas getting killed. Rappers tossing empty threats around is common place. We should all be used to the requisite tough-talk that goes along with the music. Royce, being a veteran MC, should know the rules. Benzino is an attention-seeker. One of those dudes who goes out of his way to be seen, if only because without a gimmick, he'd be ignored, or heckled. The type of guy who the neighborhood kids throw rocks at his car, just because. Really though, I compare a lot of rap cats behaviors to that of my 6 year old son, & it doesn't take a rocket scientist to guess who fares higher on the maturity scale.


Royce displayed a massive amount of nigganometry, by not only responding to a Z-list rap guy, who's been chasing fame since 1973, but doing so, on camera, while brandishing a weapon. Not just any weapon, though. A. Rocket. Launcher. I've heard about Royce's battles with alcoholism, & maybe they should let home skillet play so much 'Call Of Duty', while he's drunk off his ass. Not only is he lining himself up for numerous legal repercussions, on top of telling on himself ahead of time, like this was the movie 'Minority Report', but, is it really that serious? Worst case scenario: Benzino goes to Detroit, to confront Royce face-to-face, & Royce-feeling as though there's something to prove-LAUNCHES A ROCKET at him, clearing out 1/3 of a city block, which may or may not be rife with people. WTF? Are we so far gone as a society, that grenades & rocket launchers are the new sticks & stones?


Sure, this is America, & we have the right to bare arms, but, let's be real about what's being protected? Our lives or our manhood(s). I wonder how long before one of these moronic Hip Hop stars kills somebody, or gets killed for the sake of "keepin' it real." Truth be told, I had my money on Young Jeezy & Gucci Mane. I still haven't taken my bet off the table for that one. I miss the good ol' days when a threat of violence was just that; words spoken out of frustration. Word to Biggie, things done changed. & shame on World Star Hip Hop for being the conduit for ignorance. Niggas always yelling about how Hip Hop deserves respect, then we get on camera & point guns at the lens. Backwards hustling, indeed.

The First Day Of The New Year...

"With great power comes great responsibility" - Peter Parker's Uncle Ben or somebody else, but I'm just gonna give him the credit


I'm not even really sure how to apply that to this, but mostly, a nigga's always wanted to say that in regards to myself. Ha!


Anyway, January 1st, & guess what? I have news to share...


I've been recruited for the war to bring truth, justice, & the (light-skinned African) American way to more screens, by way of Daily-Math.com.


The General himself, Combat Jack, has put together a team, in an effort to put boot to neck of this blog shit! Needless to say, I'm honored that he'd fuck with your boy in such a capacity, & I have something to truly appreciate in 2010, & I haven't even been awake an hour yet. As well as yours truly, there's:


Riggs Morales-former writer at The Source & A&R for Shady Records


Epiphany-of 'I Am The Life', at iamthelife.wordpress.com


Danja-of 'Danj Loves The 90's' at danjlovesthe90s.wordpress.com


Amp Geez-of 'Amplified Grammar' at amplifiedgrammar.blogspot.com


Dom Corleone-of 'Hold the Throne' at holdthethrone.com


Ice-of 'IceDotCom' at icedotcom.blogspot.com


He put the call out, & I, along with a handful of other talented cats, answered, & as we gather the weapons & map out the strategies, rest assured I'll be repping to the full, keeping it absolute, & taking my niggas (& niggettes) with me in to the stratosphere. Hopefully, y'all will continue to ride with your boy wherever this road is leading, because as I say like at least once a month, I do this shit for y'all. Talking to myself all day wouldn't hold quite as much weight, & people tend to shy away from schizophrenic dudes.


The schematics are still being worked out, so I'm going to let cats know when my first bomb drop's over there, but that's not going to change Reading & Writing, but rather expand the horizons & definitely make it do what it do. I guess I learned one more thing; important people notice you're grind when it's absolute. Or, in laymen's, real recognize real, if you will.


Happy new year, y'all.


Official announcement here:
http://daily-math.com/weblog/?p=2097

Man Down! Man Down!

Remember how shocked people were when rapper Chi Ali killed some kid in 2001? Even if one hadn't gotten wind of this young MC (no Bust A Move), it was still pretty awesome that this quasi-famous teenage rapper had grown up & taken a man's life. [See the beginning of the movie "Strapped" for a loose re-enactment.] Before the crime, he aligned himself with the Native Tongues crew, & by all early-90's Hip Hop standards, he was destined for greatness. That fantasy world finally came crashing to the asphalt when, later that same year, he was featured on an episode of America's Most Wanted for Murder. When the smoke finally cleared, he was sentenced to 14 years behind bars.

So far this year alone, there have been two high-profile cases involving rappers & their involvement with a crime that resulted in murder.

Corey Miller, formally known as C-Murder & brother to Master P, was sentenced last month to life, plus 10 years, for the 2002 killing of a 16 year old young man during a club parking lot scuffle. True or not, witness accounts say he reached into a small crowd & fired his weapon into the boy as he laid on the pavement. This verdict came on the heels of him beating an attempted murder case in another Louisiana parrish. C-Murder, in-fucking-deed. Ironically, Miller has a tattoo of his brother Kevin's face on his arm, who was senselessly killed many years prior. Now, somebody will be getting this dead boy's face on their body, no doubt.

Jim Jones/Dip Set affiliate Max B. was sentenced to 75 years on Sept. 3, for his role in a 2006 robbery that left a man dead. His supposed girlfriend-turn-witness spilled her guts about the plan he reportedly devised, in an effort to save her own ass. Though he didn't pull the proverbial trigger, he might as well had, according to the jury pool who found him guilty of conspiracy. Many fans & supporters believe that his lawyer was reckless & naïve, speaking to magazines & tweeting in regards to the case prematurely, but that doesn't alter the fact that he was an accomplice to a crime that ended in one less human being walking the face of the planet.

Maybe the weeds getting better, or times are getting worse, but cats are blindly intent on keepin' it real these days. I remember when rappers got tossed out of shows, or under buses. Under the jail though, is beyond me.

Honorable mentions to MC Slick Rick, for trying to shoot & kill his cousin in 1991, which for the most part spelled doom for his career. When he was released from prison after roughly 5 years, many popular rap dudes tried to pull him on to their projects, but times had changed from the rap scene he was running years prior. The world wasn't ready for a criminapper to be all over it's respective TV screens. Oddly enough, if that had've been today, it would've launched his recording career into the stratosphere & made "Slick Rick" a household name. In a good way. Also, rapper Shyne, who under the tuteledge of the omnipotent Sean "P. Diddy" Combs, found himself in the middle of a club, busting his .40 caliber at some of Diddy's "friends" in 1999. He was convicted of attempted murder & handed a 10 year sentence before Diddy turned his back & walked away without serving any time for his involvement, including an ensuing car chase with actress/then girlfriend Jennifer Lopez in the vehicle. Shyne is to be released later this year.

In Hip Hop, we're at a crossroad; on one side, there's these criminal minds who truly believe in what the speak. Manifest destiny per se. On the other side is the victim. Often, the victim is cut from the same cloth as the victor, yet find themselves on the bad end of the bargain. It's impossible to root for one, while we mourn for the other one. It's that complex balance of the universe that makes the world go 'round, but that doesn't make it okay. I guess it does make it okay, until our father, uncle, brother, best friend is killed for the sole reason of "keepin' it real", whatever the fuck that means nowadays.

Now's the part where I'm supposed to urge my more influential brothers & sisters to WAKE UP! & RISE!, but that empty, Spike Lee movie rhetoric falls on deaf ears. It's not a Black thing, because if it were, our collective pride wouldn't allow us to hunt & destroy one another like so much sport. & I refuse to blame "the White Man", because I can't remember the last time I looked over my shoulder for a White man as I walked home from the weed spot. It's a people thing, & their insipid lack of natural love for one another. I understand people make mistakes, but a mistake repeated is a purposeful act. If we don't take responsibility for ourselves, then other's will. & if we learned anything from 'Amistad' or 'Roots', it's that the last thing we want is other motherfuckers in charge of "our" lives.

It's deeper than rap, but we might as well find a point to start from. Better late than never, Word to Dr. Rev. MLK, jr.