Archive for August 6th, 2004

“You must be lookin’ somewhere else like Biggie Smalls’ lazy eye..” - Rass Kas

A while ago, I fooled around with my ambivalence towards the use of the word “nigga”. It’s getting out of hand now, though. I don’t care what the politics or who they think they speak for, white liberals ain’t got NO business throwin’ hat word around like they got some claim to it. Let Dick Cheyney use that phrase and Kweisi ‘nem would hafta get in line to throw rocks. And they would have a right to. What, Ted Rall and Janeane Garofolo get passes because they were talking about Condoleeza Rice and Larry Elder, respectively? Come on, hops.

This is bad in for two reasons. First, it’s bad because, as I said, they actually said it. But second, it’s bad because they’re just repeating terms they’ve heard from “authentic” Black voices. Who gave them the courage to spit the term “house nigga?” Where did they even hear it? From “our” so-called leaders and/or spokespeople. Even if the average serious redneck put the two words together, I’m not sure he could tell me the house nigga’s counterpart. White liberals, having more contact with Black folks, know those terminologies. It’s sad.

What’s even worse is that because they’re just parroting terms they’ve heard, they’re not even fair game to bring to the Dozens ring. I’m probably being prejudiced here, but just look at it: when Al and Jesse step up to the mic, you know that even if you don’t agree with a word they say, they’re gonna have those words flipping like Dominique Dawes. I haven’t heard that type of game out of very many white libs. Sooooo, since they want to joint in the name-calling game, they should be prepared to be dispatched very quickly. I had some 7th graders that could’ve handled both of them at the same time.

Read La Shawn’s take on this.

I was born…city they call Buffalo
Zero degrees BE-low…too damn cold and funky
(pass the joint)

R.I.P., Rick James

A little history on me and that lyric…I first heard Below The Funk at my babysitter’s grandson’s house when I was 6. I remember listening to that record and seeing the album cover for Prince’s Dirty Mind. After that summer, which was right before I started first grade (so was I 5?) I didn’t hear that song again until 1994, when I bought the Street Songs CD. Over 15 years later, I still remembered that lyric exactly. I was amazed.

I’m saddened, but just a little. Now when J.B. transitions…

I quoted him earlier this week, and I mentioned him as the most underrated MC of all time last week, so I guess it’s time for me to give some shine to the Kool Genius of Rap.

G Rap is an MC’s MC. Not a name that a casual rap fan would know, certainly not the average anti-hip-hop pundit would be able to call. MTV hip-hop fans wouldn’t know him either. But ask somebody who knows hip-hop. They’ll tell you. G Rap was that man. Coming at the same time as Kane and Rakim, along with his lisp makes G Rap like the Joe Frazier of MCs. You know he was good, but you don’t really appreciate how good he was because he was in there at the same time as the greatest ever. Like I said about Ice Cube last week, though, whoever the top 5 is, G Rap would give any of them fits. In fact, if there were a 64-man MC tournament, I can easily see G Rap making it to the Final Four, if not the finals. And don’t sleep, if there was anybody that could see Rakim for the title, Kool G Rap was him.

One thing about G, he was one of the main East Coast MCs kicking that gangsta/hustler rap in the early 90’s. The difference between him and most of the other cats that did it then, and the suckers that do it now, G Rap had skills. Pull out your old English book and look up poetic elements and listen to a G Rap record. He pulled out all the techniques. Polysyllabic, mobile rhymes (at the front, middle, and end of lines), complex rhyme patterns, clever punchlines, extended metaphors, assonance, crisp detail in his stories…that’s probably why he didn’t sell that many records. You have to actually pay attention to Kool G.

My favorite song by G Rap is probably Ill Street Blues, the story of a mob hitman. The first few bars set the scene…

I’m right in front of my front steps thinking of a plan
Looking like Raggedy Ann no dough in hand kicking a can
Thinking of a plot to pull some bank in
Because I’m dead and stinking
Soles on my shoes winking t shirt is shrinking

How broke is he? The t-shirt is getting smaller even as he wears it. Ill Street is not a song I would point out as having any redeeming social values, but there are two factors at play here:

1. I just like it. It wasn’t until about 1995 that I started really caring about what a MC was talking about, and this came out well before that. Therefore, I have only positive feelings about this song, because…
2. Kool G Rap was a true MC. If he had kicked the same story using a-b-c rhymes and elementary techniques I never would have liked the song in the first place. It’s not what you say, it’s how you say it. G Rap said it well.

I’ll roll out with two verses from the song that I think best displays G Rap’s dexterity, Poison. Again, watch the rhyme patterns in the first verse and the extended metaphor in the second.

This is poison so be alert and cautious
Those who act courageous you will get nauseous
Infected or contaminated
Turn on your stereo and become radio-activated
Deadly and fatal, poison the title
My recital hits the parts that are vital
So tune in the tone of beats and poems
Polo’s headphones becomes a skull and crossbones
Pull out your Q-tips, clean out the earwax
If you’re still hard of hearing, I’mma scrub them with Ajax
With maximum drum so behave and remember
You’re a slave to my sound wave
Faster rhymes I mastermind I have to find
A new method time after time
Write a rhyme quick when I pull out my Bic pen
Stick to an idea, the soundproof slick then
Put it on paper cause I make you hyper
Than any other rapper cause I keep my rapping riper
Like cherries or some say berries
Mandatory for the auditory and its glory
Here’s the story: rappers getting leery to hear me
G speaks in a new technique of fury
Domination of drums and noise and
Yo yo yo Polo yo this is poison

A mind designed to find a rhyme that’s right on time
One step beyond and not behind the line
That separates dogs from divine
Take it as a caution, or a warning sign
Whether antonyms, words I’m blending them
Homonyms, synonyms, good like M&M’s
With Polo and while he’s slicing
I’ll turn the mike’s last name into Tyson
My brain is like a factory constantly creating
Material stitch by stitch for decoration
Lyrics are fabrics, beat is the lining
My passion in rhyming is fashion designing
Now it gets ordered, cause people want to sport it
You bought it, if you didn’t then you couldn’t afford it
Poetry full of surprises, it’s like a game show
And my brain glows just like a rainbow
Rappers and poets they already know it
G Rap is a terror not a error and never will I stop reaching for better
Whether wheels of steel or reel to reel
G Rap will make you feel the real deal
I usually rap hardcore and I know
That y’all thinking am I somehow semi, so
We yell “party” and girls and boys and
Remember Kool G Rap, Doc the Butcher and Polo is poison