I remember a few years ago watching MTV’s Making The Band hosted by Notorious B.I.G. prodigy Diddy (formerly Puff Daddy and P. Diddy.)Â The show features a bunch of up and coming rappers and singers compete to be in a new R&B group.Â Diddy ultimately chooses the members of the group and the stuff they put out will be produced and put on a label- giving them their chance at the big time.
One of the challenges they were given in this particular episode was to learn and rap Notorious B.I.G.’s “Juicy,” which to anyone who knows anything about the origins of rap or B.I.G. will tell you is like the holy grail of rap songs.Â Guess what?Â None of these contestant kids (who were all from what you would qualify as the urban “ghetto”) could recite the lyrics.Â Diddy was fuming mad.Â I was in disbelief.Â I could rap “Juicy” straight through.
I got some heat on my blog yesterday for comments I made about thug life.Â Jukebox Hero readers Ken and Katlyn told me that I know nothing about thug life or the LBC.Â And because I like a little controversy, I’m going to keep this conversation going today.
Just because I am from South Dakota does not mean that I don’t know hip-hop and what rap life is like.Â And it doesn’t mean that I don’t have friends who I would call “thugs.”
URBAN DICTIONARY: As Tupac defined it, a thug is someone who is going through struggles, has gone through struggles, and continues to live day by day with nothing for them. That person is a thug. and the life they are living is the thug life. A thug is NOT a gangster.
Just like the fact that I am from South Dakota does not mean that I automatically like Big & Rich or Sugarland.Â I don’t like country music and I can’t tell you anything about cattle, roping, or what style of Wranglers are hot this season.Â Like I say in my profile, don’t judge.
Hip hop is about struggle.Â That’s why so many people of all backgrounds relate to it.Â No matter where you come from we are all strugglin’ in some way at some point in our lives.Â I pride myself in the fact that I can hang with any number of crowds.Â I see people as people, not stereotypes.
It was all a dream
I used to read Word Up magazine
Salt’n'Pepa and Heavy D up in the limousine
Hangin’ pictures on my wall
Every Saturday Rap Attack, Mr. Magic, Marley Marl
I let my tape rock ’til my tape popped
Smokin’ on bamboo, sippin’ on private stock
Way back, when I had the red and black lumberjack
With the hat to match
Remember Rappin’ Duke, duh-ha, duh-ha
You never thought that hip hop would take it this far
Now I’m in the limelight ’cause I rhyme tight
Time to get paid, blow up like the World Trade
Born sinner, the opposite of a winner
Remember when I used to eat sardines for dinner
Peace to Ron G, Brucey B, Kid Capri
Funkmaster Flex, Lovebug Starsky
I’m blowin’ up like you thought I would
Call the crib, same number same hood
It’s all good
And if you don’t know, now ya know
Pure poetry.Â Notorious B.I.G., “Juicy” (Edited Version):