Tuesday, February 06, 2007
I DON'T EVEN LIKE TO RHYME, LOVE
"I AM NOT A RAPPER"
"I AM NOT THE MANAGER OF A SUNGLASSES HUT"
"I AM NOT LIL' WAYNE'S GHOSTWRITER"
TO: SEPARATING FATHERS FROM THEIR DAUGHTERS
FROM: A CROOK LIKE YOU
RE: MONSTER DOT COM
SHIT, B. I'VE BEEN TRUANT LIKE DMX AT FUCKING TRAFFIC SCHOOL. IT BEING THE FIRST QUARTER AND ALL, REFLECTION IS ON THE MENU FOR ME. I'M SURE IT IS FOR YOU AS WELL, AS YOU NO DOUBT AWAIT KANYE'S DELIVERY OF WHITE JAWNS IN THE GRAD SCHOOL LOUNGE TO GET YOU THROUGH THE FISCAL YEAR. THERE'S A WAR GOING ON OUTSIDE, MAN. I WOULD BE HANGING OUT WITH NICK CANNON TOO! YOU NEED SOME FUCKING SUNSHINE IN YOUR LIFE.
LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THE FIRST STORY I EVER DID AS A CUB RAP CRITIC. THE FIRST TIME I EVER TALKED ABOUT SOMETHING THAT SOMEONE ELSE LIVED.
THERE I WAS TAPE RECORDER IN HAND, OFF TO MEET CORMEGA AT HIS VIDEO SHOOT. NOW, AS A BIT OF BACKSTORY LEMME JUST THROW THIS OUT THERE: I FUCKING LOVE MEGA MONTANA. UPTOWN NIKES. THUGGED OUT AND ICY. MAD DEEP.
THIS WAS 2000. RIGHT WHEN THE GOD'S DOLO SLAB DROPPED. RIGHT WHEN DUDES WERE LIKE, 'YOU AIN'T HEARD THE TESTAMENT!? STOP FUCKING SPEAKING TO ME!" I THOUGHT I WAS GONNA BE UP IN THE QB CHINESE SPOT (THE ONE WHERE BLIND DUDE FROM SCREWBALL WORKS). BUT WE WERE ON SOME UP IS DOWN, BLACK IS WHITE SHIT. SO IN PLACE OF THE HOOD WE WOUND UP ON KENT AVENUE IN WILLIAMSBURG. AND IN PLACE OF AN ARMADA OF HARD-BODIED VALHALLA-VISITING-RACKETEERING-ASS-GANGSTERS, MEGA HAD A FEW OF HIS COUSINS. IT WAS TRILL.
SO THINGS ARE GOING WELL. ME AND MEGA ARE CHOPPING UP SOME SERIOUS SHIT:
"NAS AIN'T SHIT"
"I'VE BEEN TELLING PEOPLE THAT!"
THERE WAS A BREAK AT SOME POINT. THE PRODUCTION TEAM (BASICALLY A NYU DROP-OUT AND SOME BUBBLES-LOOKING DUDE) WERE DOING SOME MAINTENANCE ON THE ARMADA OF EVER PRESENT RYDE OR DIE MACHINERY (BASICALLY ONE ATV WITH A "LEFRAK LANDSCAPING" STICKER ON IT) (I THINK THEY BORROWED FROM NORE).
ME AND MEGA PASSED THE TIME IN HIS COCAINE WHITE JEEP, CHILLING IN A BUDDHA-TYPE MEDITATION. ONE THING LEADS TO ANOTHER AND THE LAH IS PASSED (NO THANKS, WOULDN'T WANT TO TARNISH OL' OBJECTIVITY!) A BEAT TAPE IS PUMPED AND MEGA AND HIS NEPHEWS BEGIN TO TAKE PART IN A CIPHER.
DIG IT, HOT CHIP: I WAS JUST A BOY FROM SCHOOL. THESE DUDES ARE COMING OFF THE TOP OF THE MIND GRAPE ABOUT THE JOY AND PAIN OF STEPPING ON COKE AND STEPPING ON NAS' FACE.
AND THEN MEGA TOLD ME TO RHYME.
IN MY ENTIRE LIFE I'VE WRITTEN LIKE ONE BAR. I HAD FABOLOUS IN MIND. HERE IT IS:
"SHE GIVES HEAD HANDS-FREE/I CALL HER BLUETOOTH"
F-A-B! YOU CAN HAVE THAT ONE ON CONSIGNMENT, SON!
ANYWAY, TO WRAP UP THIS YEAR-LONG PIECE OF MAGICAL THINKING, I FOLDED ON THE CHANCE TO "GO IN." MONTANA SOMEHOW GOT OVER IT, I THINK SOMEONE CALLED ME "BUBBLE BOY" AND NEXT THING YOU KNOW THE VIDEO SHOOT ROLLS ON.
VIVID, RIGHT? WELL, I TELL YOU ALL THIS TO ILLUSTRATE A SIMPLE POINT:
NOT EVERYONE CAN RAP.
I BELIEVE IN AMERICA AND KEVIN GARNETT. I BELIEVE THAT HARD WORK GETS YOU PLACES. BUT IT DOESN'T GET YOU A RECORD DEAL. EVEN ON KOCH. YOU AND ME BOTH KNOW: SOME DUDES SHOULD STAY ON MUTE.
WHICH IS WHY I NEVER GET THE "I AM NOT A RAPPER" STANCE. A GUY LIKE HELL RELL AKA THE RAKIM OF THE JAIL-PHONE FREESTYLE. I USED TO THINK THAT DUDE WAS JUST AROUND TO KEEP WRITER COMPANY OR SOMETHING. BUT I KINDA LIKE HIS LAST TAPE AND HE'S PRETTY FUCKING NICE ON THAT NEW CAM SHIT. HE'S ALL LIKE, "I'M PACKING ALL THE TOAST BUT YOU HOGGING THE BUTTER!" THAT'S A FUCKING DOUBLE ENTENDRE DUDE! HE'S TALKING ABOUT HIS GUN! NOT SLICED SEVEN GRAIN! THAT, DEPENDING ON YOUR ANGLE, IS FUCKING RHYME-ART IN MOTION.
SO, AS A DEALER-TURNED-RAPPER-TURNED-LAND-BARON, CAN YOU TELL ME WHY THE FUCK HE'S LIKE, "I AM NOT A RAPPER"!? I'M NOT EVEN PARAPHRASING! HE HAS A SONG CALLED, "I AM NOT A RAPPER"!
DUN: I HAVE NEVER COPPED DRUGS FROM A DUDE WHO WAS LIKE, "YO, JUST SO YOU KNOW, I AM NOT A DEALER. I JUST DO THIS CUZ I'M NICE."
IF YOU ARE SPENDING SO MUCH OF YOUR WAKING LIFE MOVING KI'S OR IN RELL'S CASE, AR-15'S (OK, DUDE) (BTW, GUNS ARE THE NEW COKE) THEN AREN'T YOU LEAVING A LOT OF FUCKING CAKE ON THE KIDS TABLE BY RAPPING? SOMEWHERE IN BRIGHTON BEACH THERE'S A RUSSIAN GUY WITH A SUITCASE FULL ISRAELI ARMY GUNS. AND RUGER'S IN THE LAB WITH DUKE DA GOD! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!
I AM NOT A LIFEGUARD (ANYMORE) (YO, IT WAS A GOOD LOOK FOR ME). RELL CAN SWIM IN THE DEEP END OF SELF-DETERMINATION WITH NO FLOATIES. I WISH HIM WELL AND ENJOY HIS "THROW SOME D'S" FREESTYLE. BUT THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH RAPPING. THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH SAYING, "I FUCKING RAP ABOUT COCAINE. IT'S ENOUGH OF A TIME COMMITMENT THAT I DON'T REALLY GET TO LOCK DOWN CORNERS ANYMORE." YOU'RE THE ONE WHO HAS TO LOOK YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR EVERYDAY. YOU MIGHT AS WELL BE AT PEACE WITH WHERE YOU PUNCH THE CLOCK. IT'S A SHORT FUCKING LIFE.
i feel "i dont like rhyming" has the same rhetorical value for the speaker as something like "ill shoot the president", it's just hyperbole that exists within the structure of the rap narrative. when you're back out of the recording booth you're more like "rap sure is difficult sometimes, but it gives me a lot of satisfaction. i guess you could say i have the best job in the world!"
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