Peace to Apache

Apache – Gangsta Bitch
Hit the Twitter this morning (follow us if you aren’t already) and found out the news. Again, as this author said on the Teddy Pendergrass entry, younger deaths hurt the heart like no other, but if hearing such news brought back good memories, then a man’s time walking among us wasn’t a waste.

Bump the cut and you’ll understand why that sound will live forever, regardless of pop rap whims. That was a downright electric time in Hip-Hop, sparking trends that some of the current faves keep alive to this day for a reason.

#57: Teddy Pendergrass

This author has an understanding that death is generally sad, but that many deaths can actually make you smile. In these cases, after you say “aw, damn, s/he died?!?” you smile because you think back to someone’s heyday and the legacy they left. You can smile if someone has lived a life that was fairly full and healthy. Like that guy that came up with Gumby. You hear that he passed and you begin to think “man, I used to love Gumby!” Ghetto people might think of Eddie Murphy doing Gumby on SNL or a Gumby fade back in the new jack swing era…but I digress.

The deaths that don’t bring smiles, that are sad as hell, are those where one was robbed of promise and potential upon death or somewhere down the line prior to death. Like young actors and athletes. Say, Len Bias or MC Trouble or River Phoenix. Someone where the next big thing they were up to was just around the corner (see John Ritter, for example).

Or in Teddy Pendergrass’s case, he didn’t get to continue or finish his career on his terms. The man gets paralyzed in a car accident in 1982 and that was that. Similar to how you think about what might have been had Jay Williams of Duke and the Chicago Bulls not hopped his tail on a motorcycle and crashed it or had Christopher Reeve not had that horse-riding accident or had the D.O.C. not crushed his voice box or Lauryn Hill not decided to start poppin’ out babies by a Marley kid…or if John Belushi and Chris Farley didn’t have drug issues…or if Eazy-E had wrapped it up…no telling what they might have had left in the tank, what ideas they had swimming in their heads. Death or no death, it’s always sad when the end comes way too soon, and the whole deal is cheapened into being a moment in time.

Ain’t like this author can’t live with that, one doesn’t need it to be 1979 or ’86 or 2001 or whatever, f*ck all that, one should embrace the future, the show gotta go on. Still though, all rambling aside, back to the point–what was the point? Ah, doesn’t really matter. The ghetto knows one thing though. Teddy cuts sure came in handy for getting some draws off. Those of you about 28-35, just ask ya mama. Her ready *ss probably threw hers on stage when he rocked the Total Experience back in the day. Couldn’t have him, so she settled for your daddy!

Don’t shoot the messenger.

Crips in New York City?!?

Are you f*cking kidding me?

Unbelievable.

One of those kids is yellin’ “cuzz”…it don’t even sound right in that accent, like a mockery almost.

Far be it from this author to question anyone’s thug thizzle…I don’t even think it’s about turning the streets out on that tip for these particular guys, seems like it’s a rap thing.

This could have been a “You can’t make this stuff up” entry, but it was just beyond bizarre to see this. Don’t get it twisted, I got used to NYC-style Bloods, but I also know that what they do is different. Generally though, it’s like this in my mind, if you’re gonna be thuggin’, the least you can do is stay in your city’s lane. Bay Area do their Bay thing, Chicago and the Midwest stick to Folks and People, New York should stick to Decepticons and razor blades in the mouth and buck fiftyin’ people (not that I want to see that), and Crippin’ and Bloodin’ needs to be left to SoCal and wherever it made its way to pre-The Chronic. For a style of thuggin’ to rise in a place known for a different home brew? It’s just odd.

About as odd as that Champ MC video “Keep It On The Real”, with lowrider Impalas in the middle of the Bronx.

What’s next, Nortenos and Surenos in France or some sh*t?

UPDATE: Researched it some more and it seems that Crips have been around in the Tri-State and other northeast US areas since at least ’96. Doesn’t take away from my idea that NYC just looks weird embracing a foreign style of thuggery. And they could be very true and sincere to this, showing solidarity with SoCal sets and everything. I’m just sayin’, between this and those 508 dudes, the streets are out of control, things done changed.

You can’t make this stuff up #7

So after this author gets thru watching NCIS: Los Angeles (don’t sleep, excellent show, I never miss an episode), I click over to the news, and oh so many stories in, they talk about these cats in New Bedford, MA, who get arrested for making a “f*ck law enforcement” type song. At first, you’d be like, what is this, ’92? But before you grow a tie-top hat and Zubaz, the thing was, they were naming names, not just any names, but those of specific police officers, their actual probation officers, so on and so forth. No DA worth his salt is gonna sit back and let that go down without f*ckin’ with somebody.

And as 2520 as these dudes come, they aren’t exactly the Icy Hot Stuntaz. They look like they get down for real. Who knew there was a 2520 hood out there that was that style of grimy? And though the song doesn’t sound mixed very well and these cats drop F-bombs like they’re going out of style, dare I say it’s overall actually pretty dope! Old girl from “It’s So Cold In The D” should take notes. They got a future with street cred attached once their violation lid is up.

UPDATE: As stated when this author first reported for you to decide, the actual vid is lawn gawn, so this is the closest you’ll get to hearing the sound (until maybe those cats or one of their boys cut an edited version…dare I say they should be heard from again with something, LOL. Somebody will sign they *ss even in these days and times):

Click here for the full story.

“It’s So Cold In The D”

Detroit, stand up…no, SIT DOWN!

This author knows he’s a year late to this, but I had to expose it to more people, for the sheer comedy of it.

Made by some chick named T-Baby (how very original of her)…and she proves herself to be completely tone deaf. I hope she rides her baby daddy better than she rides beats (then again, maybe not, she’ll probably crank out a Down Syndrome kid like Precious). Plus how the f*ck was she s’posed to keep the beat (pun intended, watch the vid, thank me later) if whoever’s on the boards recording her ain’t telling her anything? Sitting there just takin’ her money (yeah, studio time is expensive, but f*ck and that, you should have concern for your reputation). And she’s clearly not doing this as a joke, but taking herself very seriously…though I don’t think her entourage behind her got the memo (guess her hardrock cousins weren’t available that day).

Way to demonstrate why they should have never given ghetto people technology…or electricity to power it.

Straight disgrace to Detroit rap. Not to condone violence against women, but House Shoes should stomp her out in house shoes. Trick Trick need to slap that trick trick. Guilty Simpson should earn his name and slash her with a butterknife or something. Fight dull with dull.

They probably roadblocked the bridge and the tunnel to Windsor the day this cut dropped in order to slow down the next Great Migration. Detroit’s had enough of a brain drain already.

Message be damned, not many people are meant to rap. I mean really, she’s what’s left over after the rest of the Detroit Hip-Hop scene moves to L.A.? She makes Soulja Boy and Gucci Mane look like Rakim and Kane. It couldn’t have been THAT cold in the D when she cranked this out, right? Certainly wasn’t the day of the video shoot, what with her in orange hair to match her printed hoodie. I hope she got her money back from the people behind the camera, then gave them 1 star on Yelp or whatever.

And she got her goddamn nerve offering this as a ringtone! Isn’t having song ringtones played out now?

There’s literally 139 response videos to this on YouTube. But f*ck all that, comment here when you’re done.

Special thanks to Maximillian over on Very Smart Brothas for putting me on to this.

#50: Worshiping criminals

BET had a documentary on a year or so back called American Gangster. Under normal circumstances, one would say it’s simply telling a story about people the general populace might not be aware of, just giving information. After all those who don’t know their history are doomed to repeat it, right? Sadly, however, one has to keep in mind BET’s recent history and what kind of demographic it seems to want to court. You guessed it: ghetto people!

This isn’t a rant on BET itself, that’s another post (surely one the audience has been looking for right here or on a more specifically Black-oriented blog, where the channel is frequently ripped, so let this author not lose focus here with this long set-up). And let me state now that it was among BET’s offerings that featured fairly solid production values (just like First In: Compton, a show you should follow while it’s here). The ugly part is the context one can’t miss, because if you’ve known enough ghetto people, especially males, you’d know they’re downright fascinated by criminals. And BET, having evolved into a station ghetto people turn to, apparently couldn’t resist catering to ghetto interests by airing this series, showing history a lot of ghetto people want to repeat!

Why is the ghetto world so interested in criminals? Ghetto people especially like to keep special edition Blu-Rays (the bootleg DVD just won’t cut it in these cases) of movies like Scarface, Goodfellas, Public Enemies, and American Gangster (no relation to the above) that romanticized the dubious protagonists of these flicks as the best at their respective professions. So when the real deal exists, just like high profile athletes and rappers, everyone wants to be (or be with) that guy. Wantin’ autographs and locks of their hair and sh*t. Dare I say he’s the ghetto person’s picture perfect idea of manhood. “F*ck Warren Buffett and Barack Obama, I wanna be Nicky Barnes or Freeway Ricky Ross!”

He lives that playboy lifestyle, successfully picks up all the freaks, comes and goes as he pleases, drives flashy expensive whips with equally pricey rims on them, holds down really nasty guns (another favorite ghetto toy), regularly orders bottle service at the swankiest clubs in town…he’s the epitome of hood rich. Yet while wrapping their lips around his d*ck, people don’t wrap their heads around what kinda heinous things he might have done to get to that level. And if and when they find out, they’re quick to excuse it! If duke goes to jail, he could have raped 12 kids and smoked their mothers and these idolaters of criminals are urging him to “keep his head up”…as if he’s somehow the victim. As if he’s a political prisoner, targeted for persecution by the powers that be for living and doing righteously. No matter what, the ghetto person has the criminal’s back.

The amounts of futures such criminals have probably destroyed (whether by physically killing people or some law changes due to them) don’t rate to ghetto people. They also don’t allow in their brains that said criminal whose picture is ironed on to their T-shirt would probably just as soon have them whacked if he felt one was in the way of what he wanted. But this congregation is too busy wishing they were as tough and rebellious, too busy living vicariously through the stories of these guys (as well as hating the idea of the criminal’s other enemy, law enforcement) to even consider there’s more than one side to every story. And that all heroes have elements of their lives that would make that proverbial little boy from the Black Sox scandal cry “Say it ain’t so, Joe!”

Author’s note: Yeah, so many topics could have been #50 on the ghetto bucket list, but the hot hand (immediately inspired by the f*ckery one reads over on AllHipHop) wrote this one!

#48: Talking to people any kind of way

You ever text someone and get the response “who the f*ck is this?” and wonder why that was even necessary? You think to yourself that you could see the need to ask who someone is if you’re just curious, but did it require the seasoning of such a hostile fighting word like an F-bomb?

Ever been in line at the liquor store or the chicken and Chinese spot to see an interaction where the customer begins to flare his or her temper and begin spewing forth curses and racial and sexual orientation epithets and such as if that’s really going to get them better service as opposed to their dinner spit into? Way to resolve a dispute. The Newport you just smoked didn’t take the slightest edge off of your stress apparently.

Ever get on the bus or train knowing damn well once you get over by the local high school, parental discretion is advised? Have these kids heard nothing about how to act at home and abroad among polite and other mixed company?

Have some ghetto people lost their home training or are they simply showing they never had any in the first place? Are these folks having a series of bad days, are they just A-holes like that, or were they taught that this kind of language and attitude towards any random *ss person really is peace? And the majority of these twerps dare to assert what kind of “good Christian” they are…

Surely these same people don’t like being talked to any kind of way…unless they’re Likes To Fight Guy on the “I wish you would” tip looking to take it to someone’s chest. Oops, almost forgot, women fight with their mouth, and if you get into it with a ghetto girl, you just might shed a tear or two…because they’ll cut loose and be meeeeeeean! Really mean! You kiss your kids with that mouth, booch?

All this vulgarity, rowdiness, and belligerence from so many hood folks. Desensitized to the point zero empathy is there, zero decency, zero sense of how to treat people, even those you disagree with.

The disease has fully infected the hood, polluted Hip-Hop as a whole, the children are a bunch of potty mouths…I mean this ain’t the 50s and all that, a little colorful language expands minds every now and again…but don’t you the reader find it gets a bit over the top? Wouldn’t it seem uncalled for and inappropriate if you heard it, for lack of a better example, on Saturday morning cartoons?

What is the ghetto person’s hypertensive fascination with using cuss words?

Or the other one you should love that ghetto brothers especially drip like water? “My n*gga.”

Every five words if you eavesdrop on one of their conversations (or are forced to hear it due to the obnoxious loudness), it’s “my n*gga this, my n*gga that, my n*gga my n*gga my n*gga.” You would think they just saw Training Day for the first time the night before. It replaced “you know what I’m sayin'” earlier this decade for most overused ghetto verbiage.

It is said that people who can’t control their tongue can’t control their actions. Now if you notice such behavior in a person, why would you think it’s a good idea to make them company you keep? Or in the case of one of those Bridezilla grooms, marry it?

#45: Being ready for trouble when partying

Was watching NBC Nightly News while listening to beats over the weekend of this writing. Lester Holt suddenly mentions that there was a shootout at a bar on a snowy Thursday night in Toledo, Ohio, with fairly robust surveillance footage. Ghetto people know full well that’s not a strange occurrence. Sh*t goes down at bars, clubs, and party functions where ghetto people are in attendance. Ask that idiot C-Murder, he’ll break it down for you.

Hey, the life is hectic. There’s bound to be a bunch of dudes (or thuggish-ruggish lesbians) interested in acting out dormant Mobb Deep fantasies, wishing a fool would so they can dust off the line they’ve waited their whole life to say: “I’ll be right back.” These same folks probably do drive an Ac and keep a Mac in the engine. Probably mack to girls in the function with razor blades in their mouth ready to buck fifty somebody. Well, we at least know that’s how New York party animal thugs rolled back in the 90s…and a lot of fools’ tactics don’t necessarily change with the times…but I digress.

At spots where the ghetto people are in the building, that *ss gotta be prepared. Know the exits (not just for the fight or shootout, but even if the dancefloor gets a little tight). Keep the coat and the purse and your crew close by. Might need to tuck in your chain in case of the party getting robbed (that does happen). Know what you can grab to swing at somebody and knock off a block or two. Don’t stand anywhere near the bouncer (they tend to either get touched or do the touchin’). And have a good first step. Hell, you might even wanna get like homeboy at the 2:41 mark of the video and practice that little stolen base strut he was working to perfection. He’s obviously one ghetto person who likes baseball. This may not be #6, but you really can’t make this stuff up.

#43: Cookout holidays

There’s three types of holidays:
-the giftin’ kind (e.g. Chrismaboxihanukwanzakah AKA the whole month of December, Mother’s Day), where women and children always want some sh*t…
-the drinkin’ kind (NYE, St. Pats, Cinco de Mayo…really, all of them, but specifically those), the bar’s, club’s, liquor store’s, and freeloading female’s best friend, and…
-the grillin’ kind (could be the whole season of summer, but specifically Memorial Day weekend, July 4th weekend, and Labor Day weekend).

This is the type of holiday where there’s suddenly not a parking space in sight, mad kids you never met will be runnin’ around, and e’ybody feel like they can throw down. Swear they got the best ribs, the best carne asada, the best chicken, best brisket or brats or links.

Vegetarians, as you have probably figured out by now, ain’t welcome and the ghetto people who make up the bulk of the crowd will feel threatened by them and make remarks about how they can’t live without meat! So they’re up crap’s creek unless they’re interested in the potato salad with paprika and eggs and green onions and other random *ss ingredients (what in holy hell is a pimento?).

Anyway, all these foods you will take a plate of home, then forget all about as it goes bad inside your fridge…because you already know too many cooks spoil the pot(luck), but you gotta humor the sensitive bastards who made it lest you get made to feel feel guilty…

And of course you know what else is gonna happen when ghetto people get pepped up. That’s right, sweet babies, your ears will bear witness to the f*ckery known as a soundclash (clash being the key part of that term). Because there will be that DJ that doesn’t give a f*ck enough to have turntables as he opts for his dual CD player and a zip case full of bootlegs and burns of the same damn Tupac and reggaeton and oldies you can hear on a day heading home from work played with no kinda blends involved. That dude is also unequivocally over 35. And his opponent: that one cousin or boyfriend who swears his trunk rattlin’ *ss Chevy is bumpin’, so he just GOTS to have his door wide open as he wears Young Jeezy the f*ck out.

Oh, but there will be a wildcard, and that’s that dude that rides the wide *ss Harley with fringes on it. He’s sure to come rip snortin’ in the dance like he’s the absolute don playin’ Teddy Pendergrass or whatever super-lover artist was hot when he was younger.

Total noise pollution (which could get uglier if the karaoke starts) to add on to the air pollution of the burning flesh of the piggy piggy. Because the ghetto cookout just isn’t fine if the attendees can’t dine on swine. It’s a party, y’all, to which the 20-somethings will have blunts in rotation, the 13-year-old girls will bang out the stank dance of the month, and that one uncle the family suspiciously knows about is in the background grabbin’ his meat.

What, I was just talkin’ about the sliced beef!

#42: Daytime television

Once upon a time, the American afternoon was the home of Mike Douglas, soaps like Another World, game shows, reruns of prime-time hour dramas, and the greatest cartoons one could possibly wanna come home from school to. Maybe even a random movie…and this was on a Big 3 affiliate! As time passed and cable penetrated more homes than Ron Jeremy has college dropouts, habits began to change. Two people worked instead of one (the cable had to get paid for somehow!) and there was increasingly a different demographic at home. That’s when the car insurance companies, personal injury lawyers, for-profit vocational schools and such began advertising to replace the dishwashing liquid and peanut butter commercials. And the soaps, reruns, and especially the cartoons started getting s-canned in favor of judge shows and very. Trashy. Talk shows.

Let’s examine the messages presented here, shall we?
-vocational school:
“Yo’ *ss need to be in SCHOOL, you non-workin’ muhf*cka, so you can go get a job to feed all them bad *ss kids with!”
-car insurance:
“You can’t drive that bucket parked outside to go find a job with (since no one will hire folks who ride the bus) until you insure that b*tch! But it’s a bucket, so you can forget about full coverage.”
-weight loss surgery:
“We’re here to help the nation of fat bastards like you get a job and a date. And since you’re mentally and physically bankrupt enough not to mix in a walk or two and quit eatin’ bullsh*t, we’ll be more than happy to take your money and make you financially bankrupt as well!”
-bail bonds:
“Come to us, we’ll get your baby daddy outta jail so he can help raise them kids and pay them bills for you…or not.”
-tax and credit services:
“Fix your financial issues so you can move out your mom’s rest! So she can invite a man over and do naughty thangs without having to look at yo’ triflin’ *ss on her couch.”
-talk shows and judge shows:
“Do you really wanna look like these pathetic, uneducated, ugly, ghetto/fat/queer (probably all three) pieces of sh*t?”
“See the makeover these ex-nerds and miserable shrews got? They couldn’t buy sex at one point, yet look at them now! This can be you!”
“What kinda superhoe has no idea who fathered her kids? This bet’ not be you!”
“Raise your damn kids right lest you want some random dude in prison shouting at them. While longing to finger them inside their underwear.”
“We need guests dumb enough to air their dirty laundry and show their lack of decorum and intelligence on television. You need money. Give us a call.”
“Then again, don’t. All you’ll do is play yourself and millions will laugh at you just like you laugh at these bozos on the screen now.”
“Your mama didn’t raise you right and your daddy probably doesn’t even exist…let me be the parent you never had as I give you a crash course in the real world with this ruling.”
“Don’t you dare raise your kids on shows like these! We cancelled away the cartoons in order to make you buy cable for them to watch Nick and Disney on so they can talk about it with their little friends on the schoolyard. But what good parent plops them in front of the TV so that they think like these twerps? Send their Flamin’ Hot Cheeto eatin’, red-fingered *sses outside to play so they don’t end up an obese roly-poly like you!”
-soaps:
“If you’re lowbrow enough to watch this, you deserve this bad writing and bad acting we phoned in for you. And you actually tape this sh*t? Well…actually you have to tape it because people like you can’t afford a DVR.”
-all of the above:
“You have too much time on your hands. After a few days of this, if not mere hours, maybe it will sink in. Se habla espanol (even if you don’t, which keeps you from getting hired in CA, FL, and TX)”

The time slot between 10am and 4pm on the Fox, CW, MyNetworkTV, and independent stations (+ Big 3 affiliates in those podunk markets) is now home to television aimed at making you feel like a loser for being at home to watch it (instead of at work like every other red-blooded American is!)…or at least slightly better than the losers cast on it (who are ghetto to deeth for a reason). Social engineering at work free to air.

This has been a public service message from the SGPL Get A Life Association.