Remember back in the days, when niggaz had waves
Gazelle shades, and corn braids
Pitchin pennies, honies had the high top jellies
Shootin skelly, motherfuckers was all friendly
Loungin at the barbeques, drinkin brews
with the neighborhood crews, hangin on the avenues
Turn your pages to nineteen ninety three
Niggaz is gettin smoked G, believe me…
I usually outline entries like this, but I decided to just flow from the heart instead of the mind today and eschew the pretention.
If you are a hip-hop fan, you know what today is. You know why I changed my design this week. You know who my favorite rapper and artist is. If you know me, you know me and this guy share a common name in Christopher. Track #2 from Ready to Die is fading out as I write this, and things certainly have changed.
I wonder how different things would be if he was still around. You wonder how many albums he would’ve dropped by now. You wonder what a Biggie and Kanye West joint would’ve sounded like, or Biggie and The Neptunes. Another Biggie and Jay-Z collabo or perhaps even a 50 Cent collabo that wasn’t post-humus? How far did his influence reach as far as other rappers’ careers? Would Jay-Z be retiring? Would The L.O.X. have jumped ship? Would Lil’ Kim’s albums be a little more focused and cohesive?
And you think of the bad. What if he had fallen off? It happens to every rapper at some point, someone always becomes irrelevant. Would he be embroiled in several mini-beefs that don’t end in death but instead question one’s cred? These things often cross my mind as I listen to music and not just his. You ever hear a song and just go “Man, B.I.G. would’ve ripped that shit!”?
I’m still pissed about it, because I feel like hip-hop has definitely lost something. He was the only artist that made me love this music as much as I do. These days, it’s hard for me to connect to much of it without him around. As far as I’m concerned, everyone that came after him is expendable. Biggie was perfection personified.
There’s a reason fans like me look at people like B.I.G, ‘Pac, and J.M.J. as martyrs of some sort. Very few artists these days display any redeeming qualities other than their talent for making hits. Very few are moving forward and changing the game. It’s hard these days to say what separates one cat from the next because everyone sounds alike now.
When Biggie rhymed, you felt like he was sitting right across from you, telling you how his day went. He was personalble, and his conversational humor made you feel right at home. We related to this guy. He wasn’t a pretty boy, by his own account he wasn’t very attractive at all. But you can imagine with the amount of charisma he had why any woman would want to be by his side.
People outside of hip-hop just don’t get it. To them, he was just another rapper that lived by the sword and died by it. But every culture, every generation has someone that just speaks to them. He laid his flaws on the table, let everyone know how he felt about the game, made me understand that as a black youth, I was valid, no matter what anyone else would have me believe. He talked about struggling. Me and a lot of people I know are struggling right now, hustling in our own ways to get by. That’s why Biggie matters to us, that’s why we broke down when we lost him. He was our voice. Not necessarily the face of our culture, but a damn good representative of how a lot of us felt.
I encourage everyone to have a private Biggie moment at home today if you haven’t already. Play five of his hits. Play the whole damn album. Nod your head. Recite the rhymes. Remember that feeling? Only Biggie can make you feel like that and no one else.
On this day, I won’t mourn his passing. I will instead mourn everything else that seemed to die with him. Turn on the radio or BET and you’ll know exactly what I mean. I feel for the ones that will come up in this era of music not knowing or understanding what made him one of the greatest.
Things have changed.
From one Christopher to another, we miss you.
Things Done Changed
Weekend Thang
Friday:
The Novarious S.L.I.M. gets up bright and early to meet with one of the admissions cats at school to go over financial aid paperwork. Fills out papers until his hand nearly falls off. Is annoyed to the upmost because The Parent has neglected to keep up his end of the bargain with providing him with the correct tax information from 2002. Wants to spit molten lava because, if anything, a parent should be more than happy to get his child in school. S.L.I.M. is destroyed that this may stall the process, and although he and The Parent are both the kind of people that would love to skate through life without all the beaurocracy, he realizes what is at stake. A seething hatred for The Parent has been reborn.
After the meeting, S.L.I.M. heads over to The Uncle’s office to beg for money. Unc isn’t there. He hops back onto the train to go have lunch with The Lieutenant. They eat like they’re on death row, however returning a dry white pizza that is beyond redemption.
S.L.I.M. comes home to drop the kids off at the pool for about 20 minutes and sleeps for the rest of the day, awakening too late in the night to proceed with tentative social plans.
I’m (NOT) Sorry
(I wrote this when I was on hiatus, but since it doesn’t bother me as much, I’ve decided to get rid of the profanity.)
I hate to have to say this, but lately I’ve been having major issues with black gay men and I’m not even talking about the dating aspect. Some you may be saying “Well, nOva, aren’t you black and gay?” Why, yes I am, which means I can talk this [*BLEEP*]. But that’s not even a good enough excuse for my spiel. The fact that this is my outlet should be enough. If I’ve offended you, I urge you to keep reading.
Who You Callin’ A Bitch?
bitch (n.): 1. An awkward situation, ex: “Damn, I got some shit in my eye, ain’t that a bitch.” 2. Term of endearment between girlfriends, ex: “Hey bitch, what’s up?” 3. the person on the receiving end of any homosexual activity, most notably in a prison context. –urbandictionary.com
I came across this story online not too long ago and I’m wondering who’s most responsible for the way black women are portrayed on reality TV, the producers or the women themselves.
Conversations With SunRay
Phill did a really great interview with Rocka so I decided to jack the idea and interivew my ~SunRay~. I know I’m probably cheating by interviewing her of all people. It’s like Oprah interviewing Gail, I already know what she’s going to say. But not only does this serve as a way for you to get into her twisted mind, it’s a good way to see how we communicate as best friends.