• » Name: Meka Soul
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Slap-Boxing With Jesus

Who Runs This Rap Shit?

With all the bragging going on in hip-hop from its denizens, you’d think that all of them really own the labels, clothing companies, firewater and sexual paraphernalia [1] they rhyme about. We all know that’s not the case. Some also believe that the TIs, Kim Jong Ils and Hugo Chavezes who head the labels responsible for putting out the records are also in charge. For the most part, that’s wrong also. Neither are the writers, bloggers or (god forbid) the message board hounds who either talk shit or shine the proverbial knobs of their favorite artists.

Contrary to popular belief, the real rulers of this rap shit are the CD-buying, illegal music-downloading, concert ticket-purchasing schmucks whose hard earned cash from their nine to fives provides the fodder for their idols. How else do you think they’re still relevant? When you see Jim Jones rocking a man-purse full of cash or Grandpa Simpson promoting his new hue for GMC, you can’t assume they got that way from selling nicks & dimes.

The problem lies when a lot of these clowns get too big for their britches, so to speak. We already knew rap’s former punching bag [and current elementary school Santa Claus] Ja Rule was smoking that shit when he claimed the spirit of 2Pac was in him [no Ravishing Rick Rude]. But when Weezy F. Goldberg boasted he was better than Jay-Z, even I had to pause on that for a minute.

I suppose us fruit flies are to blame for this pandemic. There have been some positive changes in the game, however. We are responsible for weeding out the Positive K’s from the Pusha T’s. And somewhere in between “Wobbly Wobbly” and “Go DJ,” somebody convinced Lil’ Wayne that he was somehow the greatest rhyming being on this planet, producing a handful of decent songs [2].

However, if we’re convinced that hip-hop is dead, well then whose fault is that? Me personally, I’ve never signed off my hard-earned greenbacks – much less used hard drive space – on a Chingy album, yet this clown is three botched abortions deep. If fans want to see more variety in hip-hop, force these record label overlords into supplying good product. Unless we want to wait another four years for another Clipse album [3].

[1] I don’t know about you, but I’m not keen on the idea of having Fiddy that close to my balls. No homo, of course.

[2] Albeit, decent for a southern artist. “Mo’ Fire” and his verse on DJ Drama’s “Cannon” were pretty clean, however.

[3] Assuming, of course, we’ll still be listening to this shit. I probably won’t, but whatever.

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