May 15, 2008 | Tags: none

They say prostitution is the oldest profession known to man. I don't really know the reasoning behind that, but whatever. I guess if that's the oldest profession, then pimping is probably the third oldest. (Of course after prostitution and doctors to help "medicate" the herp). Let's talk about some new age pimping that's popping off.

So let's get this straight. You do the work, we make the money, if you get ANY money that we don't give you (which will be very little), you’re in trouble. Sounds like pimping to me. You’re gonna be in when we tell you, you’re gonna be where we tell you to be, if we want you across the country, you’re gonna work the track across the country. Ladies and gentlemen, this is collegiate athletics. Student athletes are not allowed to work. This is most likely because they are already playing sports; nobody would want something to get in the way of these kids "studies". They are given a small amount of money to do what they need to do. "Student" athletes are not allowed to get agents, or take any money from anybody, even though Universities make huge money every year of sports programs. Schools like USC make even more money every year due to appearances in Bowl games and the NCAA tournament. Football players aren't allowed to enter into the NFL draft until after their Junior year, and now basketball players can't enter the draft until after their freshman year, forcing them to wait even longer to get to the money. Never has the BS around "student" athletics been more apparent to me than as of late.

NEWS FLASH: Another nigga in Los Angeles is getting money! Word? True indeed, if you’re looking to get money, come out to Los Angeles, cuz niggas just KEEP getting paid out here. It was Reggie Bush, now it's OJ Mayo. Rumor has it, USC freshman basketball star befriended an associate of a sports agent while he was in High School. This associate basically looked after Mayo financially from his late high school years, through his year at USC. Dude had bought Mayo an LCD TV, a bunch of clothes, food, and all sorts of other things. The cat funding Mayo was eventually cut off from the sports agent because dude was spending too much money on his self and not on Mayo. When this happen, dude created a sickle cell foundation and used a credit card under the name of the agency (funded by the government) to continue to buy shit for Mayo (and even more for himself). How do we know all this? Mayo also befriended another cat, who at the time was fresh outta jail for drug sales. When he got kicked outta Mayo's entourage for a disagreement with the money man, he, in the best interests of Mayo snitched took the story to the media. Of course, he brought this story out to help Mayo. Sure...

Let's get this straight, OJ Mayo, one of the most hyped freshman last year couldn't go straight to the NBA because the draft rules force players to wait a year. He chooses to go to USC because he said their used to prepping athletes to go pro. They knew his intentions weren't to stay four years and get a degree in English, we all knew this. The term "student" athlete for the most part is bullshit. Have you seen some of the things these cats major in? Let's take Luke Walton for example. Why Luke Walton? I could easily go with some kid from some poor inner city blackville, but I figured it'd be even better to go with someone from a good neighborhood. Luke Walton, the Los Angeles Laker and son of NBA great Bill Walton attended the University of Arizona. He went all four years and was a pretty good college basketball player. He majored in family studies. Wha?? Yea. I've heard Larry Bird majored in Physical Education; Jerry Rice majored in parks and recreation..."student" athletes? Bullshit. Let's get one thing straight....

Let's not be fooled, these kids aren't students.

Sure they attend classes. Yea, they do have to attend general ed classes, but these kids are not students. The colleges don't bring these kids in to get them an education; they bring them in so they can generate money playing sports. Plain and simple, it's about money, nothing more nothing less. Some of these college coaches make 4 million a year. They can't split one million up amongst the 10 players on a basketball team? This is pimping. Science labs are built off superstar athletes. Vince Young carries Texas to the national championship, then, all of a sudden, Texas has all these commercials about their educational programs. You have to believe SOME of the money for these advertisements come from the athletic programs. Why not let these kids get some of the money? Why not let them get money from sports agents? This is COMPLETELY AGAINST THE SPIRIT OF CAPITALISM. These kids bring the goods to these schools to make the money, yet they don't reap the benefits of their labor? They do the work while the big dogs keep the money? That sounds like some commie shit to me. If they generate money, why can't they get any of it? Everybody else does. Now even high schools are getting paid off athletic programs. I'm from Long Beach, we have THE best school as far as athletics goes period nationwide, Long Beach Poly. The school owns the apartments next to it; it also owns the shopping center on the other side of it. Where the hell does a school generate all this money from other than the athletics programs? Do you really think alumni are donating money so the school can buy a shopping center? Fuck no. They get the money from ticket sales, jersey sales, and TV appearances, all due to these high school athletes. These same kids go on and attend USC, UCLA, Cal, Stanford, Arizona, and other schools across the nation and generate money from them, still reaping none of the benefits. The chosen few, who don't break their leg, get locked up, get shot, or some other shit and make it pro, they get paid. Others are just left with YouTube videos of them blocking for Lendale White.

Sure, these kids could just all say "Fuck this shit, we're all gonna get our education," and all attend college four years, chase scholarships from Ivy League schools instead of Pac-10, Big 10, and Big East schools, but then the balance of power within the University athletics would just switch, and then the rich would just become extremely rich, and Duke would have to rely on that Lacrosse squad of theirs to build their new science lab.

The views and opinions expressed in this blog are those of the writer and not necessarily those of HipHopDX.com or Cheri Media Group.

"Street Cred" and why I wouldn't trade a ham sandwhich for it

May 08, 2008 | Tags: none

First of all, let's list some of the rappers in the game who have street cred....

Shyne-This nigga still locked up

Mysonne- Where the hell is he. I shouldn't have even listed him, is he still in the game?

Styles P- All the street cred in the world couldn't stop Puffy from financially going in that asshole raw. No Vaseline

Remy Ma- Yea...do I even gotta speak on her

T.I.-Yea, if he didn't have it before, I'm sure he has it now. He also now has a lot less money

Tru Life-While I'm pretty sure it was his street cred that landed him on Roc-a-Fella (is that even still a label?), he's racked up approx 0 records sold

Saigon- Saigon is my dude, but he's still yet to drop an album. Could it be that he's too real for this bullshit industry?

Ice T-You gotta respect an ex-pimp and drug dealer, who can make it to the point where he can play a cop on a popular TV show and leave all that illegal shit alone. I got much respect for Ice T (no matter how bootleg that C-walk looked on Hip Hop Honors)

Ghostface Killah-I give, Tony his props, but that's where it stops.

I could go on, especially with cats a lot of ya'll probably don't know, (Tray Dee from the Eastsiderz...in jail) but why? I'm sure you see what I'm getting at. Let's look at some rappers who DON'T have street cred.

Nas- Some say the quality of his music has dropped since he was no longer sitting in that project window looking at other people's lives to copy, I still think he's one of the dopest in the game

Eminem-Don't let that trailer park fool you, if Em had any "street cred" he definitely lost it after attack somebody with a gun with no bullets.

Lil Wayne- Being a drug addict does make you "street credible"....it makes you a drug addict. It hasn't stop Wayne from becoming one of the most followed rappers out of all of the rappers who haven't OD'd or been left fool of holes.

Jay Z-There's been a lot of talk about the boy from Marcy in the past couple of years. A lot of street dudes have a lot of negative things to say about Jay. I'd imagine it's hard to hear the talk from behind the doors of all those business meetings where Jay keeps get $100 million plus deals. I'm sure sound can't travel from the streets of Marcy to whatever island Jay finds himself on in between business deals

Ice Cube-Yea, back in the day some of ya'll thought Cube was a real gangster. Sorry you were wrong! However, Cube does continue to rack in the bucks, whether it be from old publishing rights he had from his albums Jerry Heller didn't get to rape him on, or the movies he continues to make. (Which aren't even interesting but obviously somebody is watching them)

Will Smith- Will Smith may not have the streets on lock, but he outta be respected as one of the ultimate hustlers. Will Smith went from a novelty act as a rapper, to a TV show, to one of (if not the highest) the highest paid actors in Hollywood. No, not one of the highest paid BLACK actors, one of the highest paid actors PERIOD. If that ain't a hustler than what do you call that?

You should definitely see what I'm getting at now.

Street Cred=0

Sure, you could say this is because the rap game is now based off bullshit and the bullshit and fakes will prevail over the real all day there, but where does street cred mean anything? I'll tell you one place...prison! Street Cred will probably make sure you get all your phone time. It also might get you some extra spread...but who REALLY aspires to be in prison? If your lifetime goal is to become a lifer, yeah, you rack up all the street cred you want, but going into some business meeting or some shit...that "street cred" won't get you anywhere. In fact, it might hold you back. Look at the executives behind the rap game. Suge Knight is LOOKED AT as having the most street cred...and he's a nobody. He's no Russel Simmons, He's no Puff, and He’s no Kevin Lyles. Cats with REAL street cred like Jimmy Henchmen even said that Suge Knight has fucked the game up for people like him. Before Suge, business people may have taken him as someone who has reformed. Post Suge, any kind of street cred scares people away. Look at those BMF cats; look at the results of Supreme's venture into the hip hop world. Sure, they committed crimes, how the hell else were they gonna maintain their "street cred"? Where did that land them?

I won't front, at one time; I paid attention to shit like that. I still respect a Tru Life way more than...Jim Jones. The question I had to ask myself is though, who are you trying to be? Was my next interview gonna be with Microsoft....or La Costra Nostra? Am I try to get involved in Real Estate, or dope and coke? Do I want people to say, "I wanna be like him, I should do business with a cat like that" or "I wanna be him, but I have to kill him first"? Had I chose the second answer on those questions, I guess street cred would be important, but I didn't.

I try to avoid talking down on the hood, (your hood, my hood, whatever, same shit) but that's a serious problem with it and many of the people from there. The attention paid to bullshit. Fights over streets you don't own, chasing street cred, shit like that. On a smaller scale, somebody asked me the last week, "How many people has Kobe dunked on this year?" I said "Shit, I don't know,". Then they said, "The Lakers won, but did you see how Iverson crossed over Fisher," Too much attention paid to the shit that doesn't matter. Street Cred is basically what the crossover has become today in basketball. Before, people would cross you over and go shoot a layup. Now, they'll cross you over, then come back, and attempt to cross you over again, or cross you over, and miss the shot, and still brag about the cross over. Too much focus on the shit that doesn't matter.

Street Cred is some shit that was made up by some loser. He did some shit in the street, then, when he wasn't successful, whether it be due to a bid, or crippled in a wheel chair, he threw that in the faces of people who were successful. "Yea, that nigga made it, but I got more street cred than him though. He not real like me," You little niggas can brag about all the street cred you want from a wheel chair, but they just created an electric car that goes 125mph. By the time they come out with the one that does 200, I wanna have the cake to cop it, cuz I definitely can't walk into the car dealership with "street cred" and drive it off the lot.

Oh yea, in case you missed it. I don’t ban/block people. I don’t request people get banned/blocked. I could care less what you say about me or anybody down with me. I put my email, my MySpace all that shit on here. If I was REALLY worried about what people said, I wouldn’t put that shit up, through videos on here of myself, none of that. If you got banned/blocked, you must have done something that upset somebody with some REAL authority around here. Don’t get mad at me because they won’t let you say *&%# $%#@&*$%! (I did ß myself).

The views and opinions expressed in this blog are those of the writer and not necessarily those of HipHopDX.com or Cheri Media Group.

Last Night I almost got shot on my block....

May 07, 2008 | Tags: none

A true story...nothing more, nothing less. A name has been changed to protect the guilty.....

The year is 2002. I had worked a little over a week and a half straight (weekend included). It didn't bother me much then, I just spent the time at work daydreaming about the paycheck that was gonna come. One of my real peoples came through and swooped me up and soon as he found out I had time off. We were headed back out to Ontario, (A small city about 45 mins from Long Beach) but first we had to make a stop. We rolled up on a small group of people standing outside a house. It was about 4 or 5 cats, all wearing basketball shorts. My friend Jayvon got out the car and talked to the people while I sat in the car. I didn't know any of them, and could care less, so I fidgeted with my phone after giving them the standard head nod "what up". My friend jumped back in the car and drove around the corner.

"Hold up. Wait here" he said as he exited the car again.

I already knew what was happening, it all made too much sense. Good old fashioned B&E. He knew these cats, he knew they were all going to play basketball...leaving nobody at home. A couple of years back I would have been the first person through the window, but times had changed. Me and most of the cats from my block went through our "phases". Around 14, it was all about pussy. House parties, dances, sleepovers when chick’s parents may be out of town, anything to get some ass. As new people moved on the block, that got played out. The pursuit was no longer ass, it was money and material things. The only way we knew how to get it was crime. Breaking and entering, shoplifting, robbery (just punch somebody and take their shit, if there's is like 5 of you, most likely the victim will just run away), armed robbery, drug sales, there was a lot of shit going on around 10th and St Louis, everybody did something, some did it all. As people began choosing gangs, a lot of us separated. Every one of us caught a charge one time or another, some small, some not so small. The kids who caught smaller charges took it and laughed. They felt like a Mob boss forced to do 3 for Tax evasion…untouchable. Me personally, I got caught up for some stupid shit...but it woke me up. Instead of feeling invincible, I took it as a warning. A warning that if I didn't drop the bullshit I was involved in, I wouldn't be so lucky. It's not often you get arrested, only to be let go by the cop, given money to catch the bus home....and dropped off right in front of your house. I got one job, and then I never stopped working. I wasn't making outlandish money or no shit, but it gave me enough money to cop whatever new CD dropped, a fresh fit every now and then, and it kept me out of trouble. It also allowed me to have a cell phone that I NEVER could have gotten either one of my parents to pay for (unlike the kids of today) that I played with as I waited for my friend to come back from someone else's house with some new shit.

He got back in the car with a bunch of bullshit. A video game, a BB gun, a chain, some shoes...basically a bunch of nothing. I was even happier, cuz I definitely didn't want to risk my freedom for some shit like that. I immediately bought the video game and attempted to buy the BB gun, but my friend said he wanted it. A couple years back I would have put the BB gun to another use, but at this time...shit, I just wanted to shoot pigeons and fuck with people. The chain was young, and wouldn't be worth shit to a pawn shop, and the shoes were too small. He said there was no money laying around, and he wanted to hurry up and get outta there, so he just left. With this done, we hit the freeway for Ontario.

We pretty much had shit planned out. I was gonna call my girl (the same one I'm with now) and see what's up with her homegirls. Around this time she was staying in Ontario, so this was perfect, kick it with one of my closest homies and see my girl. Unfortunately, we couldn't get her homegirls to go out...short notice. Things weren't all that simple when I was 18 (the chicks were 17). With no chicks we figured fuck it, we'd stay in tonight. On the drive to Ontario we had argued about the name of some low budget comedy movie that was supposed to be hilarious (I still don't remember the name), so with no chicks we decided to hit up the movie rental looking for it, get some BB's from Target (or whatever that store is over there, Walmart, Kmart, whatever it is) and then get some burritos and shit from the store. At the time neither one of us had every bought BBs before. The one I had before had some already and I didn't shoot them anyway. We didn't know what to do. I thought different BB guns took different BBs, just like real guns, so we decided to take the BB gun with us, and ask the people at Target. We walked around the corner only to find that Target had just closed. Damn! Next stop, the movie rental. No luck there either, we still couldn't remember the true name of the movie. Fuck it, we walked over to the grocery store to get some Tampico and Top Ramens and shit. We figured we'd just get some shit from the store, then go back to Jayvon's crib to talk to chicks on the phone, try and set up shit for the next day. We snatched up grapes, Tampico, Tina's burritos, and a bunch of other shit and we were on our way out the door, then......

"GET ON THE FUCKING GROUND!"

My eyes lit up. Right in front of us was over 20+ pigs, cocking guns simultaneously. I figured somebody had robbed the store after we left and was gonna take us as hostages; I attempted to glance over my shoulder....

"GET ON THE FUCKING GROUND NOW, AND HOLD YOUR HANDS HIGH. MOVE SLOWLY!"

There's nobody behind us. I'm dead. I give up all the bullshit, but it doesn't matter. There's no way I'm walking away from this. How the hell do I get on the ground with my hands high slowly? What's gonna catch my fall? I'm gonna fall on the ground fast, and they'll shoot me. They'll say I had a weapon or some shit. I attempted to do as I was told. I figured I'd only hear three shots. The first would probably miss, but that would set the other cops off. They fire, I'd probably take one non-fatal shot, but the next, that'd knock me out. I wouldn't hear the rest of the shots. I successfully made it to the ground. I had a hard time keeping my eye on the cop that was approaching us , but I could clearly see the light from the helicopter above me shining on the ground. The cop walked up and asked us to get back up on our knees slowly. As we did, he put us in hand cuffs and briefly searched us. As he searched my friend he found the BB gun.

"What the fuck is this?" questioned the cop

"A BB gun," I replied

"What the fuck are you doing with this"

"We were trying to buy BBs from Target, but it was closed" I stated blandly. What the fuck else could we be doing with it? I already knew the answer to that, but around this time, that was the last thing on my mind. He walked back over to the other cops who were now a lot closer.

"Get their ID's" an overweight porker shouted to another one of the cops. We gave up our IDs and the officer went to a car to check them out.

"Did you guys know you didn't need the gun to buy the BBs," A black cop asked

"Nah, we never had a BB gun before" I replied...lying through my teeth. I then explained to him our plan of kicking it with chicks, and how that went awry, and then what our intentions were as a backup. Then I asked him what all of this was about. He said that the people at the Blockbuster (or is it Hollywood video...same shit different toilet) said we stole some DVDs. All of this shit for some DVDs? GTFOH

"Are you serious?" I asked "We didn't take any DVDs, we couldn't even remember what DVD we were looking for. As a matter of fact, they don't even have the DVDs out on the floor. Even if they did, you can go check their cameras, we didn't take any DVDs"

"They said you guys took some DVDs" he replied "You sure you didn't take them? You guys didn't hide them in the grocery store somewhere did you? What aisles did you guys go down?" I insisted we didn't steal any DVDs and also told him to go check those cameras. I wouldn't waste time stealing DVDs, I had a wad of money in my pocket. One of the other cops brought over our IDs.

"This one's clear," he said, pointing at me "This one has some kind of uncleared warrant" he said pointing at Jayvon.

"Ah nah, I took care of that" Jayvon replied. "Remember that ticket I got for breaking that window?" he asked me. I remembered. One of the lamest things any of us had gotten in trouble for. Jayvon didn't understand why we called the hard plastic type things off spark plugs "silencers". We tried explaining to him how they break car glass windows low key, but he had to find out for himself. I tried persuading him not to do it, but I was high as hell that day and to a certain extent, I wanted to see him do it. He took the the white piece from the spark plug and flung it at a car window. It all shattered, but remained intact...then pop. It all fell to the ground. We all laughed. It was funny as hell that is until like 5 minutes later when a cop gave Jayvon a ticket for doing it. He didn't see him do it, but somebody probably snitched, and it would probably be a lot easier if Jayvon just took the ticket.

"It says in the computer it's uncleared" the cop replied. Jayvon and the officer walked over towards the car to go over the information about the warrant. Another cop walked up to me laughing.

"Somebody was gonna get robbed with that BB gun tonight. Look at this one, he just looks like a criminal. I knew he wanted to run, I wouldn't have felt sorry for him, I would have felt sorry for this storefront, it would have took more bullets than he did" The asshole stated

"Excuse me," I replied "I look like a criminal? Fucker they just took money out of my check to pay your sorry ass.[1] I'm not a criminal, I work just like you do. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've been putting in more hours than you. As a matter of fact, what's your name?"

"What's my name?" He asked."You can have all our names when this is over with,"

"I don't want ALL your names, I want your name, your the one being a dick, I don't care what their names are, I want YOURS!"

"I'm the Corporal" he replied

"Corporal? That's not a name, that's a title, I'm not stupid, what's you NAME!" I insisted

"I'm Corporal Sorporal" He replied angrily

"That's not your name" I said as I looked above his round belly for his badge. I couldn't read it. My adrenaline was pumping. I was excited. Every since I stepped away from doing bad shit I anticipated the day I got fucked with anyway because I knew I'd be clean. Several checks to the DMV without being asked to have to pay $1000+ for all the fines and tickets I had on me let me know that I was clear. I was told you had to GO to get your juvenile record cleared, but mine vanished. I knew as long as I didn't make any threats, or get two crazy, I was straight.

"I can have you arrested" Corporal "Sorporal" said

"You can't have me shit, cuz my record is clean. I know it, you know it, your computer knows it. You can't do shit but let me go" I replied

"Throw him in the car and run his ID again" Sorporal hollered, as another cop came and snatched me up.

"Run that shit all you want, in the end, you'll be letting me go home," I replied as I was walked to the cop car.

"Calm down B," Jayvon said as he walked back towards the curb. I knew what he was doing. I've done the same shit before. Whenever your stopped by the cops and they could POSSIBLY have something over your head, you act cool. No reason to wild out, that's what dumb asses do, act a fool when they KNOW they have crack in the car. Not me, every time I had been caught or ALMOST caught for something I played it cool and relaxed. That's exactly why my record is (was) clean. The thing is though, I had been waiting for this for too long, I was gonna fuck with these cops. They didn't have shit on my friend, and the most that would come of this would they'd take me somewhere and beat the shit out of me. I really anticipated the ass whoopin, it is what it is, but there's no way I wasn't gonna talk shit. They missed their opportunity to shoot me, that ass whooping wouldn't kill me, it'd leave me with a story to tell and a few scrapes and bruises. As I sat in the back of the cop car, I could hear Jayvon cracking jokes with the pigs

"You gotta excuse my friend...he didn't get any pussy tonight. He thought he was, but it didn't work out" A few of the cops laughed. I laughed a little too. You gotta give it to a nigga that can crack a joke 5 mins after 20+ guns have been pulled on him. I could hear the cop radio....I heard some shit about somebody with a shotgun at a cemetery. Are you serious? Nah, maybe it was just cops talking to each other or some shit, that can't be happening with all these pigs here and the helicopters? Fuck no. As I laid there awaiting to be whisked off to my beating, one of the cops came back and got me. He took the cuffs off and told me to go sit by Jayvon. His cuffs were off too.

"Calm down nigga, we'll be gone soon" he said. The cops were a couple steps away talking amongst each other. All of a sudden, they sent the black cop over to talk to us. Moteasu [2] is the first thing that came to my head.

"You gotta excuse the corporal, sometimes he's just a little on edge," he said. I was having a hard time finding anything to say. What do you tell the kiss ass Uncle Tom token black cop who's trying to be cool to you, but at the same time kissing ass?

"Both of those helicopters, just for us?" I asked

"Yea, those are both ours" he replied proudly. What the fuck does that matter who's they are? That's a waste of taxpayers’ (read: my) money. Another one of the cops walked over to us

"Ok, you..." he said pointing to me "you can go, but your friend has to come with us for that warrant"

"Don't even trip B, I'll be home in the morning, take my key" Jayvon said as he gave me his key. I was sort of nervous. What if he took the ass whooping I was expecting? They wouldn't do that to him, they could have easily just taken me to the alley and beat on me. What if this nigga don't come home in the morning? I picked up all our shit and walked back to his crib. When I told his younger cousin at his house he got arrested, she asked me what for. When I told her a bullshit ticket, she stopped caring. She may have been younger, but I'm guessing she already knew this shit was routine and he'd be right back. Sure as hell, 7 in the morning there's banging on the door. In walks this lanky cat with a huge smile on his face.

"Nigga, I told you I took care of that shit. They couldn't hold me. I been got out, but I had one of my hoes come get me, I fucked and got head. She just dropped me off," What the hell was I worried about, this nigga got locked up, out, and got ass while I sat around TALKING to my girl on the phone. sheesh.

[1] A couple years later while working as a Security Guard, a cop explained to me that the average person pays about 25 cents a year in taxes to pay for cops. He said that whenever somebody says "My taxes pay your salary" he responds by giving them a quarter
[2] In the movie Rosewood, there's a scene where the black dudes are talking to a white guy. The white guy says, "I have the last Indian of the Moteasu tribe," A black dude says "What" then the white guy lifts his cup and taps it, a black slave comes out the cut and says "Mo Tea Su?" offering to refill the white cats cup. Ever since then, I've called any Uncle Tom I've seen "Moteasu"

The views and opinions expressed in this blog are those of the writer and not necessarily those of HipHopDX.com or Cheri Media Group.

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The Reality From out West

The World is filled with pimps and hos, let's just talk about those I know.

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"Street Cred" and why I wouldn't trade a ham sandwhich for it

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Last Night I almost got shot on my block....

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