Since Hip Hop’s inception, nothing has been more synonymous with the culture than its dark, somewhat genocidal lifestyle. In most cases, the Odd Couple-like relationship between violence and rap music is, in its rawest essence, similar to the one between chocolate and peanut butter: in no way can they be healthy together, but damned if they don’t feel good on the way down.
In all honesty, my first introduction to the rougher part of things came relatively late: thanks to overly-strict parents, the only brutality I was exposed to was of the ACME kind. But shortly after my oldest sister gave me dubbed copies of Method Man’s and The Notorious B.I.G.’s debut albums, – I’ve yet to fully enjoy an album without, at the very least, a lyric involving some poor schmuck getting the ever-loving shit slapped out of them.
But while some of the best rap albums of all time happened to be host to a plethora of murderous gun talk, homophobic chants and omnipresent crap raps, for the most part the lyrics remained delegated to the borders of the disc they were found in. Unfortunately in today’s “Superman-happy rap,” artists are just as likely to physically take their qualms with others into their own hands, rather than splashing some random mulatto chick with some Cisco in their low-budget music video.
I have always been a vocal opponent of violence in Hip Hop, especially since it has been responsible for so many tremendous losses that continue to impact the culture to this day. However (and perhaps due to my desensitization as well), there have been instances where not only were such acts were welcomed, I’ve actually found myself wanting to see more. In this year alone, I’ve seen more punch-outs than Mike Tyson’s video game, and I must say, I’ve been amused by most of them.
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Ironically enough, it is the pleasure I get from watching, hearing or reading someone getting snuffed that’s lead to my second Slang entry. Without further adieu, I’d like to present my favorite violent moments in Hip Hop, in no particular order.
KRS-One, meet Prince Be. Prince Be, meet floor
As of late, South Bronx’s own Blastmaster has been known more for his grumpy-old-man preaching in the name of preserving Hip Hop. Back in the day however, Kris Parker’s rep as a battle-ready lyricist was only matched by notorious short fuse. In 1992, after pseudo-hippies P.M. Dawn made some disparaging remarks about him in a magazine interview, KRS and members of his Boogie Down Productions crew stormed their performance during a New York concert, resulting in Prince Be’s fat ass getting frisbeed off the stage. P.M. hasn’t been the same since; in an effort to remain quasi-relevant, they appeared (and won) some random reality competition last summer.
“He should have just given back the CDs.“
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Let’s face it: everybody in Hip Hop has had their music stolen in one way or another, whether it’s a rapper who has his album leaked or the fan whose copy of Illmatic was “borrowed” by a friend and never returned. But not everyone was as unlucky as Sean Raymond, who had his intestines rearranged by the most unlikeliest of rappers: Native Tongue youngster Chi Ali, who apparently shot and killed Raymond over $300 and some missing compact discs in 2001. Chi’s heinous crime would eventually be featured on America’s Most Wanted, leading to his capture. The moral of this story? Burn your friend’s albums; don’t take them.
“He should have just given him his identification.”
Being a rapper’s weed carrier definitely has its ups and downs. While at times they are allowed access to their boss’ stash, as well as seconds on a random-ass groupie, the obviously negative aspects of the “job” entails that one must occasionally take a charge for the weed owner in order for their career to remain a viable entity. St. Lunatic piff-pocketer Ali took “charge” to the next, literal level last year, as he was allegedly tasered over 50 times by a police officer after he had been pulled over, subsequently shitting on himself in the process. I don’t know what’s worse: the fact that a guy had lost control of his bowels during a police scuffle, or the fact that I find that to be the funniest thing ever.
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“He’s tryin’ hard to stay alive.”
If you really think about it, being associated with Wyclef Jean is about as fruitful as signing to Death Row Records in the new millennium. Virtually every artist related to him – from Canibus to Claudette Ortiz – has had their career seen more false starts than a deaf track-and-field runner. But none of them were as inauspicious as former Refugee Camp “All-Star” John Forté, who was convicted of accepting $1.4 million worth of liquid cocaine in 2000, and is now serving a 14-year sentence. Despite all this, I still play Ninety-Nine (Flash The Message) every once in a while.
Lex, Coupes, Bimaz and Bank Notes.
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With all due respect, the Lost Boyz are one of the most underrated groups of all time. But despite the critical acclaim of their first two albums, the South Jamaica quartet never reached the plateau that the fellow Queens neighbors received once Freaky Tah was killed in 1999. Perhaps pissed that Mr. Cheeks didn’t allow him a slot on his god-awful solo albums, the group’s deejay Spigg Nice tried to get paid the “Ski Mask Way,” got caught in 2004 and is now in the middle of a 37-year prison sentence. If only Cheeks had that kind of gulliness instead of doing “The Whop” with Mario Winans.
“Feed me, feed me (literally)!”
For all the nonsensical smack Lil Wayne blabs about being the so-called rapper eater, he doesn’t have shit on former Cosmic Slop Shop member Big Lurch, who – after getting loaded off angel dust – viciously killed Tynisha Ysais in 2002, broke a blade off in her shoulder blade, ripped out a lung and actually ate parts of her body. Let’s see Weasel F. Fraggle do that.
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While all of the aforementioned crimes (and Ali shitting himself) are indeed some of the gulliest (or in Ali’s case, funniest) moments in rap, we must all remember that they are detrimental to this Hip Hop culture we all live in. At the same time, imagine a Hip Hop world where such fodder didn’t provide ample inspiration for horrible rhymes. I know I wouldn’t want to be a member of that society, but then again I’m just wrong like that.
