Nas is like, the rest of us. He watches the video shows, listens to the radio, downloads mp3s from his favorite hip-hop blogs, and wonders what happened to all the rappers who could actually rap. On his new album, Hip Hop is Dead (If I Worked with Puffy, Here’s How I Did It…), Escobar lends mainstream credibility to the Just Naming Every Rapper You Can Think Of concept — mined recently by the likes of Edan and Quasimoto — with his song (and subsequent remixes of) “Where Are They Now.” On the track, Nas demands to know what became of various hip-hop figures from yestercentury.

GB is like, obliging. We’ve hit up all connects in an effort to locate everybody on his list. Some who were not on the list called us nonetheless to let us know they were still alive (whatup, Turbo B!) in case Nas was wondering (sorry B, he wasn’t). Rammellzee actually called to ask where he was at. Anyway, we found them all, so here you go, Nasty Nas:

Redhead Kingpin - Stopped fronting and actually joined the F.B.I.

Tim Dog - Still hanging out on the front stoop of Kool Keith’s apartment building, looking forlorn.

Kwame - In a sanitorium upstate, wrapped in a straight-jacket, bawling unconsolably about Biggie’s “played-out polka dots” line.

King Tee - Chilling on that St. Ides residual money.

King Sun - Getting together his lawsuit accusing Ice Cube of biting the idea for Are We There Yet? from him; shipped off to Gitmo for his 1990 lyric “You’re gonna learn not to tamper with Islam/I’m blowing everybody up with this bomb.”

Super Lover Cee - Such a super lover, he now works three jobs to fund a score of illegitimate children.

Casanova Rud - Owns a gyro stand on the corner of 34th Avenue and Steinway Street in Astoria, Queens.

Antoinette - Waiting for the proper moment to drop her scathing answer track to “10% Dis.”

Rob Base - Trying to convince the creaters of Jock Jamz that “Joy and Pain” should be on the next installment; in jail for slugging a kid for asking him, “Hey, where’s DJ EZ-Dick?”

Black Sheep - Spending most of their time raising money for the Free Chi-Ali Legal Defense Fund.

Group Home - Premier stopped giving them beats.

Busy Bee - Still zooming off a huge cocaine binge from 1989.

Ill and Al Skratch - Turned out the homies were creeping in the ‘hood; Ill and Al, meanwhile, absconded to the Cayman Islands wth the advance money.

Special Ed - Was able to retire from the revenue earned from pawning his solid gold telephone.

Spice 1 - Much like the trigga, the boss at Jack in the Box gots no heart.

Positive K - As Grand Puba goes, so must go Pos K.

Father MC - Rejected as a possible contestant on I Love New York for having too many kids.

The Skinny Boys - Moved on to a lucrative career as “after” photos for diet shakes; pitching Disorderlies prequel.

Spinderella - Spinderella wasn’t a fella, but after three hormone treatments and one trip to an Austrian plastic surgeon, she is now.

Lakim Shabazz - Auctioning off his collection of beaded fezzes.

9 MM - Does the voice of “Pikachu” on the Pokemon cartoon.

Fu-Schnickens - Sick of the industry bullshit, they all piled into their gigantic chinese food carton one day and took off, never to be seen again.

Buckshot - Traversing the globe in an effort to make sure every single person on earth is aware of the fact that he knew Tupac. Last seen falling between sofa cushions.

Finesse & Synquis - Lord Finesse and Sequence?

Rappin’ Duke - “I think we covered this already.”

Oaktown 357 - On tour with HWA and BWP in 1992, the bus veered off the road and burst into flames, claiming all of their lives. Sadly, not one person seemed to notice.

J.J. Fad - It’s all in the name, folks.

Young MC - Still trying to get on The Surreal Life and get that Flavor Flav scrilla.

Tone Loc - Priming himself to take over duties for James Earl Jones.

Kris Kross - Despite the album cover change, Japanese fans got wind of the American version cover for The Bomb and stoned them to death in 1998.

BO$$ - Lateral Thigh Trainer infomercials for public access TV.

Divine Styler - Finally figured out what the hell he was talking about on Spiral Walls Containing Autumns of Light, achieved oneness with the universe, became an entity of pure energy. Still does a shitload of acid.

Def Jef - Actually went deaf.

Mic Geronimo - Still can’t get out of that TVT contract.

Pharcyde - A tale too sad to relate.

Coolio - Never recovered from “Weird Al” Yankovic’s butchering of “Gangsta’s Paradise.”

Craig Mack - Freddie Foxxx won’t let him eat.

Funky Four Plus One - The Funky Four have a perpetual gig in the Catskills performing their hits to old Jewish crones. Sha-Rock is secretly the head of Columbia Records.

Force M.D.’s - Absolutely sure that this is the year hip-hop doo-wop makes a comeback.

Ms. Melodie - Shaking her head in disbelief at every statement KRS makes in the media.

Shante - She’s a psychologist that owns an ice cream shop.

EPMD - At this point, Eric and Parrish are Munching Diazapram.

K-Solo - Waiting outside of DMX’s house to give him a well-deserved eye jammy.

Dear industry heads and people still using dial-up,

The digital retail landscape is constantly changing and evolving. Website owners feel compelled to take advantage of every new bell and whistle that gets developed. We knew from the start that a lot of these fancy amenities would be trends without real substance or purpose. So we chilled. We layed in the cut. We peeped the game and held it down. Now, we’re ready to assume the helm of online hip-hop retail again. Take a look at the NEW sandboxautomatic Version 5.97!

The original and still best online hip-hop ordering site brings to you a full relaunch for 2007, with the NEW and IMPROVED sandboxautomatic.com, version 5.97! We believe our customers prefer substance over style, so we haven’t concentrated on cumbersome Flash animations or unwieldy album tracklistings. Instead, we bring you the nothing but the rough, rugged and real hip-hop grit, stab you straight in your nose bone.

On the front, and practically only, page of sandboxautomatic, you will be first treated to a list of dates telling about our most recent updates, though it is up to you to figure out what those updates entailed! Consider it the internet version of diggin’ in the crates. As you scroll down the page, you will see an ever-growing list of albums added in the last six months. (People suffering from epilepsy or children with ADHD should not scroll down too quickly.)

Every new album on sandboxautomatic is updated with a glorious postage-stamp sized, 32 color gif of the cover artwork, unless for some reason we don’t have the cover artwork. We are then able to re-purpose those cover scans to produce our own exclusive versions of certain albums, which we offer to the public, until we get caught. So be sure to get your orders in early! At one time, we had disdain for pre-ordering items, but now it is pretty much the only way we stay afloat. If you do place an order and it does not arrive promptly, you can contact our customer service department for further frustration. Do not despair! We will get around to mailing your package. Eventually.

We haven’t lost touch with what put us on the online retail map in the first place: promotional items. Strictly speaking, we don’t have too many. If you can scroll down to about the center of the front page without getting carpal tunnel syndrome or just getting bored and leaving the site altogether, you will see an easy-to-understand system that details our requirements to earn promotional items. For example: if you buy $50 worth of vinyl and $20 worth of non-vinyl items, you are eligible for a free copy of the promo mixtape for Jay-Z’s Blueprint. However, if you buy $70 worth of vinyl only, then you are eligible for either a 12″ copy of Skillz’s 2004 Wrap-Up or some old Rawkus record we have laying around. It’s just that simple! Be sure to click the boxes attached to those promo items if you are the kind of person that presses the traffic signal button at crosswalks because you think it actually affects anything. Keep hope alive.

We hope you enjoy our brand-NEW re-launch of sandboxautomatic, version 5.97! Keep checking back for updates and for the latest in hip-hop online retail technology! More importantly than checking, though, please buy something. Seriously. I’m running this thing off a laptop with a WiFi connection and I’m using a locker at the bus station for warehousing. Just cop an old issue of Elemental, anything. I don’t want to have to move back in with my mom.

Sincerely,

Ed “Eza” Wong

“Where they at?” asked Fiasco in an interview published in September’s issue of Vibe magazine. “It was my favorite blog, and I read all of them! Shout out to Tom Breihan! But then they just went ghost after a while. In fact, it’s like that episode of Ghost in the … um … you know, it’s more like that part in Scarface where he couldn’t find his sister anywhere, and he ended up killing Manolo. Why’d he have to do that?! Manolo was his boy! I’ve got the Special Edition of that on DVD.”

In a July post on his personal blog, Fiasco regretted the site shutting down before he was able to blow up and get a mention in it: “Everybody who’s everybody gets dissed on there. A lot of people who’s nobody too (Sharkey? WTF?). All my favorites growing up. Like I used to listen all the time to Hieroglyph … well, mostly stuff like Scarface. I listened to him ALL the time. I’ve got the Special Edition of his last CD. People like him, Spice-1, Mac Mall, Mac D., D-Mac — those kinds of artists. Hardcore. I didn’t even know who A Tribe Called Quest was until some writer asked me about them. No really, I didn’t! LOL!”

In one of several emails sent to GB that it just got around to looking at, Fiasco requested one of his music videos be reviewed in an edition of the Music, Watch column, declaring, “It’ll be the first one that y’all don’t dis. I’m completely convinced. I mean, what’s not to like? They’re like skate videos without the main dude (me) skating. Just the rap music playing. I mean, I hold it a little, like a prop. Some rappers grab they dick, I grab the deck! ROTFLMAO”

When it was pointed out to Fiasco that if GB were still around, it would probably be making fun of his constant efforts to remind us of his hardcore past both growing up and in rap music as a way of gaining a kind of hip-hop street cred for time served, thus furthering his completely calculated marketing plan of appealing to every rap purchasing demographic possible, he replied, “It’s whatever. I may not have been shot a bunch of times, but I absolutely could have been. And that’s what counts.”

When reached for comment, Shyne said, “I guess I was a little early with the whole glasses thing, huh?”

After a disastrous tenure in the NFL, Carroll went on to lead USC to 34 consecutive wins and a national championship in 2004. “I feel like I’ve done all I can do in football and it’s time to move on,” said Carroll. “Being in LA the last few years I’ve made a lot of friends, many in the entertainment industry, so this really feels like a natural next step for me. I’m just incredibly pumped and jacked right now. The J5 and I are like-minded individuals - with a positive attitude, I think we can turn this thing around.”

Carroll is hoping to turn around is Jurassic 5’s career which, despite two major label albums, MTV support, bargain bin pricing, and their multi-culti status, has yet to flourish. “Of course it’s disappointing,” said Interscope president Jimmy Iovine. “I mean, these guys have a positive message, they’re always singing and smiling, completely non-threatening and they can’t even go gold. We were expecting BEP numbers and we’re getting Blackalicious numbers instead - that’s why we brought Pete on board.”

“I’m cool with it,” said a Jurassic 5 member who wasn’t Cut Chemist, Numark, or Chali 2na. “Coach already lobbied to get us a state of the art locker room at the recording studio with flat screens and recliners and shit. We even have these ‘equipment manager’ girls hanging around, too. They’re sorta cute but definitely are good to go, which more than makes up for their looks. I mean, even Lucas got laid.”

Carroll reiterated that there would be some carry-over of his coaching style from football to the music business. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in all my years as coach, it’s that you need a gameplan,” said Carroll. “And not just on the football field but in all aspects of life. Besides having the J5 guys pumped and jacked, we’re gonna be working on all three facets of the game - hit singles, video rotation and commercial work. All three are equally important and we recognize that from the get-go. With a few breaks and a positive mental outlook, we should be platinum in no time.”

When asked whether he was ready for the fast life that comes with working in the music biz, Carroll was quick to remind reporters, “I’ve been managing a major NCAA football program for the past four years - sex, drugs and money are second nature to me.”

He added, “Pumped and jacked.”

White people have publicly gasped at Richards’ brazen use of the “n-word,” yet privately lamented their inability to say nigga at will. Cable news show hosts are balancing their outrage over the comedian with their outrage that O.J. didn’t come to them first. Gloria Allred has shown no change from her perpetual state of outragedness. Hip-hop blogs and message boards are in full agreement that this is the Face of Racism and we should all shun it with as much force as our keyboards can sustain.

The reaction of those in the real life hip-hop community has been similar. Thug rappers have taken a break from selling drugs and killing people to share their thoughts on the incident with GB.

“It’s shameful,” said Pusha T of Clipse, who wanted us to report that this would be his last actual phone conversation before he switched to Verizon Telepathone. “I got an upcoming mixtape appearance where I compare his decline to that of a slinger. It’ll be out soon, so go out and get it as a stocking stuffer. Hey, ’stocking stuffer,’ that’s a funny word! I wonder if I can somehow make that into a pun for criminal activity…”

The Ying Yang Twins stopped bugging out long enough to offer this: “It’s too much ugliness and negative things out there, you know,” the one who dyes his facial hair said. “Yeah, a lot of ignorance in this world,” the one who makes that annoying noise all the time agreed.

Our offices received one call from someone we can only assume was a member of G-Unit because he was mumbling incoherently. This was confirmed that evening when we received this voicemail:

“Yo, this is P, know I’m saying. M-O-B-B, know I’m saying. I’m now the motherfuckin designated interpreter for the Unit. Moving up in the organization! Well, regardless, they want me to tell you that there’s no place for that sort of bigotry in a civilized society and shit. You get a nigga coming ’round our way talking that nigga-nigga stuff, know I’m saying, a nigga get dropped then and there, no further discussions.”

California’s the Game doubted Richards’ relevance, noting, “His whole career was based on riding the coattails of other dudes. How can you even take him serious? Anyway, you think my N.W.A. tattoo needs a touchup?”

When reached for comment, Stanley Crouch said he completely agreed with the point of this piece, which frankly made us rethink the whole thing. If John McWhorter approves too, we’ll go ahead and delete it.

So, Mr. Sylvester, holla back. Our pay is competitive (assuming you were being paid nothing, that is — which we understand was likely the case at Pitchfork), our lies fantastical, our identities untraceable (all defamation lawsuits against us name GB editors Germ Alms and Mike Ock as defendants and are served on a dry cleaner in Norman, Oklahoma). We offer everything that the rest of this cold, unforgiving media world does not and stand up for the principles of free untruthful speech (what we refer to as the 1st and a half Amendment). We await your response.

In the first films about people trying to make it in hip-hop, the protagonists were either black (Krush Groove, Beat Street) or of indeterminate race (Wild Style). Jump cut to 2002 with the release of 8 Mile, the semi-autobiographical star vehicle for Eminem. The movie marked a sea change for the “hip-hoppers-on-a-comeup” genre by featuring a main character who every White child could look up to and say, “Why not me too?”

Why not you, Matt? Because you have no talent, that’s why. Nevermind that though — the movie was a money-maker for its studio, which of course meant that the rest of the industry had to then find a dozen ways to retell the same story until it was bled dry. The first release (of many to follow) was Bomb the System, the 8 Mile of graffiti. It told the comforting (if unnecessarily confusing) story of a White graffiti writer who overcomes difficult familial circumstances to gain universal acceptance amongst all races for his superior ability. Sound familiar?

Well, if you’re too stupid to say, “Yeah I know, it sucks,” you will soon feel the lukewarm wave of familiarity every time you look in the Arts section of your local paper, because a slew of other 8 Mile knockoffs are coming to a theater near you. One studio in particular, Lighthole, has several “8 Mile of … ” films in the works.

“We think we’ve found a niche in the market here,” said Herman Steinemanowitz, chairman of Lighthole and executive producer of all the projects. “Name a facet of hip-hop, and we’ve ‘got it sewn,’ as the kids say. [chuckles] We’ve got the 8 Mile of everything coming. The 8 Mile of break dancing, the 8 Mile of beatboxing, the 8 Mile of crack cooking (for all the new hip-hop fans out there), the 8 Mile of video ho’ing, etcetera, etcetera. Even an 8 Mile of black nationalism, where a couple of suburban kids dress up in Che Guevara shirts and stuff, and rap like X-Clan or Dead Prez. We were gonna do an 8 Mile of DJ’ing, but thought that it would be redundant.”

Aside from profits, the motivation to produce the films is clear to Steinemanowitz: “I’m not doing this for the money. I’m doing it for that young buck out there who dreams of making it in a world that is so foreign to his own. We’re going to keep making these movies on different aspects of hip-hop until all White people feel completely accepted doing everything. That’s our goal. Etcetera, etcetera.”

When reached for comment, Eminem said, “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but I have a daughter named Hailey.”

It started with a comment from Jay-Z in the September issue of GQ. Jigga may be momentarily retired from the game, but his influence remains strong in the hip-hop community, as seen by the subsequent firestorm his remarks caused. Thug rappers everywhere rushed to their local jewelers to obtain this Shiny Object #7 without quite knowing what it was. They all left disappointed however, as there is still a cloud of mystery surrounding the unreleased Shiny Object #7, and few have any idea of what it is or how to get it.

Enter Gossiping Bitches, who was contacted last week by Cartier at our European Bureau. The jeweler confirmed that it was developing Shiny Object #7 and that Jay-Z will in fact receive one of the first ones made, but revealed little else.

“We are very interested in marketing our products to, how do you say, zee rappers de thug of American lands,” said some fruit from the company. “Here in my European country, we have imported many of the televised music short films of your rap singers. It has impressed us all how enthusiastic the rap singers are in things that make bright lights into the camera. We get blinded by the lights as viewers, but they don’t seem to mind this!

Our American colleagues have informed us that these rap singers will spend all of the advanced sums from their recording labels to purchase jewelry of the most tasteless and overpriced variety. That is when we thought it would be financially advantageous to create something that is as bright and damaging to the eyes as the rays of the sun.”

The fruit also said that there is no firm release date for Shiny Object #7, but that partical physicists, hungry children, and Jewish people were working round the clock to have the initial models ready for late 2007, followed by a wider release in 2009. Predictably, thug rappers and others have already begun incorporating references to Shiny Object #7 in their verses. The list of these rappers is endless:

Pusha T: “Call me fat ass, ’cause I got that big crack game/ Fuck a URB mag, give me that Pitchfork fame/ Call me George Burns, ’cause I’ll send you to heaven/ Pump 11 in any man try to take my SO7″

Slim Thug: “To all you muthafuckas calling me nondescript/ Claiming I ain’t saying nothing 10 other rappers ain’t flipped/ Well, the Boss can talk about other shit than flossin, G/ Like … um … fuck it, I need a Shiny before they call me Boss MC”

Kanye West (the “others” spoken of): “We all have our problems, I’m no different/ Only mine got nothing to do with making the rent/ I gotta get a Shiny Object, that’s my only endeavor/ I’m such a bad person, but I’m also the best ever”

Juelz Santana: “Shiny, blimey, criminy, dimepiece, Object 7, throw that Reverend, no spots heaven/ Silly ho, feel me though, lick this, licorice, gibberish, bad fish, y’all feel this!”

Young Jeezy: “Kool G. Rap had my career already/ People act like they never heard Schoolly D/ Or any number of rappers talked the game before/ I do it half as good, make twice as more/ Cop that #7 at the Cartier store”

Thus ends the list of these rappers. That one fruit from Cartier says the company is very pleased by all the attention. “It is like flies to the shit,” he gloated.

As an exclusive to GB, Cartier has allowed a sole photograph to be taken of an early prototype of Shiny Object #7:

When not reached for comment, Irv Gotti called us anyway and said, “Between getting that bond money back, and sales of Ashanti’s Christmas album, I shouldn’t have any trouble affording this at all!”

Thanks a lot, jury of his peers.

So, like, when I’m breaking up with somebody, the last thing I do is delete him from my cell phone. It is so great, because when you go to the phone and you delete it, and your phone asks, “Are you sure?” you look at your phone and you’re like, “Oh yeah, I’m sure.” [laughs uncontrollably] He wasn’t in my phone anymore. [maniacal laughter] I don’t even know who he is! David who? [deranged chortling] It’s almost like I never knew him at all. [primal howling] Or maybe he never existed in the first place? [clutching bedsheets, spitting] Perhaps he was just another delusion, like how I convinced myself that I live in an apartment when I’m really at a mental institution, committed here after I tortured the housepets of the children I was babysitting and made them watch. [wild flailing of limbs, nosebleed] And did I really have a cell phone in the first place, or was I speaking into an alarm clock all this time? But that couldn’t be true if it were answering back, could it? I was clearly instructed by the voice to trap the wandering headspell in the wave of my spherical apparatus until it was time to unleash on the Neuro Usurpers, because this is MY TIME, right now, and they won’t win, or we’ll all go together, I promise, because the FUCKING FASCIST PIGS ARE TRYING TO TAKE WHAT’S LEFT OF OUR BRAINS … [banging head against dresser, restrained and sedated by staff doctors]

So, anyway, yeah that’s what I love about my phone! [chuckles]

I don’t really worry about deleting numbers of people. I just throw out the phone, or give it to G. Dep or somebody. Once my phone fills up with numbers of artists who aren’t going nowhere, it’s on to the next one, you know? Like, take Craig Mack — please. Haha … nah, just playin with ya’, playboy. But using him as an example, he was like 400 phones ago. He was also like 1,200 phones before that. Mase? I think he was like phone 2,350. When he made his comeback, well, I never really put him back in the rotation. Even I knew that wasn’t never gonna work. Just the other day, I was looking through my sock drawer when I found an old ass phone from like 2003. You know who was in there? Da Band! I called Babs Bunny just to see what’s up, and she went off on me. All like, “What eva happen to da gwoop? You promised we’d be the Hip-hop Bonnie and Clyde. We ain’t even the Hip-hop Nick and Jessica! Shit is fucked up, yo. Nobody neva call no more. Something’s gotta give.” See, this is why none of them ever went nowhere. I called Dylan too, but he just busted out crying and apologizing. Hot fire he was not spitting. I got Sarah Stokes’ voicemail, and her outgoing message goes, “This is Sarah and I’m out doing me, fuck that. Leave a message and I’ll call you back.” I’m not even bothering putting this new Making the Band group in there. It was sad, but a few of the old members of Dream kept trying to sneak into the auditions. Oh, you know who used to buy my phones for me and enter numbers in it on the spot as I met different people? Farnsworth Bentley. Remember him? Yeah, me neither. As for right now, the only number I got in my new one is Voletta’s. She’s Bad Boy’s flagship artist right now. For some reason, people seem to want to know what she has to say about shit, so we’re gonna do what we can to blow her up as much as possible.

Doing big things in 2006. Bad Boy, ya’ heard? Ringtones, blowin’ up! Also, check for where you can have B.I.G. leave your personal voicemail message. That’s right, we’ve got so many old vocals, we can piece that together for you right quick! No, it’s not creepy, why you trippin’?

This may come as a surprise to you, but I’ve burned a lot of bridges in my time. Guru, DJ Premier, Group Ho… fuck it, the WHOLE Gang Starr Foundation. Not that it was much of a foundation, anyway. I mean, Big Shug? Get the fuck out of here with that. Should have been called the Dirty Rotten Foundation, seeing as how I was the best rapper in the motherfucker. Oh, that reminds me, D.R.S. hates me too, Afu, pretty much any promoter who’s made the mistake of booking me, ditto for any attendee of one of my shows, anybody whose girlfriend was anywhere near me, Ms. Marvel and all the Supa Human Klik, whoever they were. Let’s see, who else … ah, fuck it man, you get the point. Mad heads got it in for a nigga. You see, when a prophet comes and brings forth the righteous psychoanalytical science, not everybody is gonna get it. It’s almost as if the geometrical parallelism is too much for their biospheric, solipsistic vicissitude. Now, most of those people I listed, I tried to explain all this to them, but eventually they don’t want to hear about it anymore. They tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about, I’m just speaking gibberish, and all that. When they say not to call them anymore, I got to take their numbers off my “1-touch dialing” list. Sometimes I’ll dial the number one last time just to let them know I’m deleting it — like a last chance kind of thing — but usually I get their voice message.

Yo, if anybody out there want to give the ‘Ru a call, you can go ahead. I got like 7 open slots on my 1-touch list.

[sigh] What’s the point of it all anymore? Who will call me anyway, now that I’ve released another terrible album? Everybody hates me, so I have no one to call either. Sometimes the phone rings and I get excited, but it’s always a wrong number. I have no friends. My peers all fucking despise me. Put it this way, the last rapper’s number I had in my phone was Defari. Shit, people even like Sage more than me! Mr. Dibbs is considered a sweetheart when compared to me. And girls? Girls triple hate me. I get negative pussy. And I don’t mean depressed women. I still have a lot of respect for them though, especially since they won’t give me the time of day, afternoon, or night. That doesn’t leave much, besides family. But I just lost another number from them too. You see, I’m 1/16th Arab, and found out the government was tapping my phone calls to my distant cousin in Bahrain. So I don’t call him anymore — not that we could really understand each other anyway. I guess this all makes the question of what it’s like to delete numbers from my phone pretty moot, huh? Someone like me does a lot of fronting on the phone, just to give myself something to do while everyone is ignoring me. I’ll look like I’m having deep conversations with people, and the thing won’t even be on. Oh, I did get a call from someone who didn’t say who they were. Something about my “false modesty,” or some shit. Must have been another wrong number.

1. For we will not be laboring over lists that will be forgotten instantly, until this time next year when people will check the archives to dismiss reviewers’ current tastes by recalling how horrible their past tastes were. Unless, of course, you’re still down with Roni Size Whateverthefuck.

2. We will not be assigning arbitrary rankings to our selections, nor will we even struggle to find ten things we actually liked. We didn’t like ten things. We didn’t like three things. We hated everything. We hate you. We’d be down to write a -1 through -1,000,000 list, but that would be too negative for you, wouldn’t it? You’re just looking for something new to get into, or itching for an argument over omissions. We refuse to give you the satisfaction.

3. We will not be indulging the idea that one period of music is to be differentiated from another by something as silly as the end of a four digit number. This makes even less sense in the age of blogs, where tastes change dramatically from month to month, trend to trend. Besides, is there really an album that represents how you were into grime, until you weren’t, and then into favela, followed by “Baltimore club music”? Yet these things tell us more about what kind of year 2005 was than the Clipse mixtapes. Everything sucked and that forced us to latch on to anything. Bringing us to the next point…

4. We will not pretend you care about what albums released in 2005 we liked. You’re big boys and girls. You can find that shit on your own. What should reviewers/bloggers be telling us? It’d be nice if some of the ones pronouncing G.O.A.T. status to rookies would disclose the fact they only started listening to rap in the ’00s. We’d like to know which ones copped the Stezo reissue this year and acted like they weren’t born in the ’80s. We’d like to know which ones are fronting like they’ve been down with Bun B all this time, not just when they found out where Houston was on a Texas map. I mean, those guys are popular now? What kind of revisionist history is that?

5. See how goofy lists are? Now stop.

Those familiar with the print interviews and television appearances of Wu-tang Clan’s RZA in recent years have noticed his penchant for punctuating his comments with the catchphrase “bong-bong!” Usually the peculiar phrase is met with indifference by the interviewer, without a plea for explanation. RZA says that is just the problem.

“Son yo, I been trying to get bong-bong off the ground for mad long, nahmean,” the producer/ rapper/ mathematician complained. “It just hasn’t caught on with the seeds yet, and I’m not sure why. Wu-Wear got the silkscreens and everything lined up. Bong-bong t-shirts, bong-bong coffee mugs, bong-bong bongs — we got it sewn, know I’m sayin. Like bong-bong.”

Just how hip-hop slang catches on with mainstream America is a delicate process, dependent on varying factors. For every “bling bling” that makes it to the dictionary, there are scores of “no diggety”’s that never go beyond a few months of relevance. It invariably starts with a popular rap song, but sometimes takes more effort on the part of the artist to raise awareness of the slang in order to get it into the lexicon. For example, it is because of Ja Rule’s incessant efforts on behalf of “holla” in the late 90’s that Gwen Stefani and her white pre-teen fanbase can today pretend to be from the ghetto.

Of course, a hip-hop catchphrase cannot truly be deemed entrenched in the modern vocabulary until your mom starts using it 5 years after you and your friends have stopped. Thanks to movie trailers, Access Hollywood, and Michael Eric Dyson, she has been able to keep up with all the latest slang — long after its popular use has passed. “I was chilling with my peeps at the supermarket the other day when I had to bounce to the ATM to get some cheddar,” recalled your mom. “As the lucci was coming out, I asked Pam if she was going to the book reading later and she said, ‘Fo’ shizzle!’ I thought that was so funny! Apparently that’s what Snoop Doggy Dogg says all the time. I like him much more now than when he was doing all that gangsta rap. So anyway, that was how that happened. It was nice talking to you. You’re a nice young man. Pretty cute too. What do you say we go back to my Explorer and knock the boots?”

Fo’ shizzle.

As for RZA, while he remains unwilling to give up on his catchphrase, he suspects the reason bong-bong hasn’t caught on yet has to do with how broadly he uses it. “It’s like bong-bong,” he said, “people don’t seem to understand when it’s appropriate to say it because I say it all the time, bong-bong. But I’m gonna narrow it down to certain situations, like when I found out I got a part in the next Wes Anderson movie. Bong-bong! After all, it was Lao Tzu who once said, ‘To use the same word too often is to create chaos where there was none before.’ Actually, I may have gotten that from a comic book.”

When reached for comment, E-40 wouldn’t shut the fuck up.

Niles is referring to the widespread proliferation of drug addicts throughout the city, something he feels will be a key to the franchise’s success. “Listen, in one way or another we’re all dealers,” explains Niles. “I don’t care if it’s cocaine or cappuccino, it’s all about getting that repeat customer. Our market research clearly shows these people already have exhibited those addictive tendencies, so why wouldn’t we go after them? You’re gonna tell me a Caramel Macchiato is worse for you than crack? If we can wean them off the illegal narcotics and onto the legal narcotics, I say that’s a win-win. Sure, it may end up costing them a little more out of pocket but at the end of the day, I like to think we’re making a difference. Money, and a difference.”

Not everyone is pleased with the grand opening, though, especially long-time area drug dealers. “We been out here grindin’ fo’ years an’ these fools finna come up in here and move in on our turf?” says longtime dealer Loc E Loc. “Aw, hell naw.” But Niles says Starbucks has been planning this move for quite some time and is ready if anything pops off. “Well, this isn’t your average Starbucks,” he warns. “There’s cameras everywhere and the baristas are behind bullett-proof glass, but it’s not about keeping the dealers out - if anything we’ve made it as attractive to them to come inside as possible.”

Niles was quick to point out the “little things” Starbucks has done to not only attract the gangsta element but make them feel right at home: “Instead of having a ‘Drive-Thru’ this shop has a ‘Drive-By’, um…we’re giving out logo bandanas, I mean we even got these little foam guns made up that say ‘Get Your Shots at Starkbucks’…they’re really cute. The only killing we expect is some good old-fashioned killing with kindness. By us. To them.”

Other iniatives are planned to further cement their place in the community, most noticeably partnering with local musicians for exclusive in-store content, something the chain has had success with in the past. “As with all our stores, music will play a big part,” says Niles. “Our first exclusive release will be a full length Snoop Dogg album slated for early 2006. Snoop was more than happy to sign on for this - in fact, he’s the one that contacted us, which was a first…but the point is that when people ask ‘Hey, where can I get that new Gangsta Nip?’ we want the answer to be ‘Starbucks, fool.’”

Rawkus Records is officially back in business, but those expecting a return to the underground sounds that made them famous may be in for a bit of a surprise. The newly reactivated label today issued a press release stating that all operations will be moved from their original New York City headquarters to Memphis, Tennessee, an obvious attempt to capitalize on the resurgent Southern scene which has dominated the hip-hop landscape over the past few years.

Rawkus, the once dominant label in the late 90’s independent hip-hop boom, rose to prominence with a string of hit singles by the likes of Mos Def and some other people. The company would later try to parlay this success into mainstream money by paying popular artists to mail-in appearances on their records as well as convince their existing roster to take a more radio-friendly route. The plan failed miserably and Rawkus shut its doors in 2004, a move which many feel signaled the end of The Backpack Era of rap. “Since the day we closed, we’ve always planned to re-launch the label,” says cofounder Jarret Meyer, “but we realized that we had to grow with our audience. All these college kids that were diehard backpackers in the late 90’s have hopped on the Crunk bandwagon now. It just makes sense that we still target the same market that we had success with before.”

Many question whether Rawkus will be able to recapture their fan base of old while appealing to todays youth. Dartmouth Senior Sean Flanagan, for one, isn’t impressed: “Rawkus? Yeah, I heard of them. I think my older brother used to have a t-shirt or something like that. He used to always crack on the Juvenile CD I had in middle school, and always call me a ‘new jack’ or something like that. Now he won’t shut off that stupid Mike Jones song and keeps trying to tell me what’s ‘poppin in the clubs’ and whatever. It’s retarded.” When asked whether he’d be interested in the new and improved Rawkus he added, “Probably not — I mean, it’s not even really music. I pretty much got over that stuff once I discovered The Beatles.”

One hip-hop journalist, who asked to remain anonymous for fear of being “promotionally blacklisted”, thinks the Rawkus relocation is a smart move: “Oh, it makes a lot of sense but it does smack of trying to jump on what’s ‘hot’ at the moment. Doesn’t mean it won’t work, though. Usually these types of rash moves by labels do tend to be a bit short-sighted so we’ll have to wait and see the long-term impact. But then again, who knows how much longer these kids will even be into the Southern sound to begin with.” He further clarified, “But, I mean, some of us have been down since day one. Ya know, K-Otix, Mass Influence…I’ve been reppin’ the Dirty Dirty for quite some time now.”

The label’s planned first release will be the fourth installment in their once popular Soundbombing mix series titled Soundbombing 4: Crunk’d and will be hosted by Ashton Kutcher. The album will come accompanied with a chopped and screwed version of the mix and will be priced at $6.99 for the double CD.

Long ago, before you were born, a collection of the east coast’s finest rappers (and Just Ice) came together to form the Stop the Violence Movement, releasing a single and video called “Self Destruction.” The song was a call to end the senseless killing and other crimes plaguing poor communities everywhere. Soon after its release, it was universally agreed upon that Heavy D had the best verse, and that these violent crimes must stop. And so it came to be that “Self Destruction” is the reason we have no violence today.

With these social issues resolved, it is now time for a new group of rappers to focus on another Important Cause, deserving of your time, attention, and, most importantly, money: themselves. Coming soon to record stores everywhere and online stores we haven’t dissed so hard that they refuse to carry it, is the Cop the CDs Movement’s debut on GB Records: “Self-Promotion.” No marketing is too masturbatory, no shilling too shameless, for the likes of Kanye West, Fat Joe, Fabolous, Pharrell, Busta Rhymes, The Game, Memphis Bleek, Cam’Ron, 50 Cent, Jay-Z (retirement? What retirement?), Mike Jones, Snoop Dogg, and Diddy. The song literally sells itself in a Mobius strip of rapping about advertising yourself and advertising about your rapping. Take their words home and think ‘em through, cuz the next rhyme they write damn sure won’t be about you.

Below you will find the front and back sides to the 12″ cover and lyrics to this historic release. In addition, if you turn up your speakers, you can preview the instrumental.

CLICK TO ENLARGE:

Artists: The Cop the CDs Movement
Kanye West, Fat Joe, Fabolous, Pharrell, Busta Rhymes, The Game, Memphis Bleek, Cam’Ron, 50 Cent, Jay-Z, Mike Jones, Snoop Dogg, Diddy
Song: Self-Promotion

Chorus: Self-Promotion, we’re all about Self-Promotion 2X

[Kanye West]
Well, today’s topic, self-promotion
It really ain’t about just a label or a coast, man
It’s about going for delf, hyping up yourself
Trying to get white people to grab the CD off the shelf
You gotta make a vid
So to help promote my record here’s what I did
I got myself on television
so that I could grab the mic and fight for the spotlight
I’m not negative but the only thing that’s positive
Is that it sells records, kid

[Fat Joe]
Pop pop pop
when it’s hot who’s to blame?
Commercials, VH-1, and my sales are still lame
MC Fat Joe here to state the bottom line
That self-promotion was way before our time

[Fabolous]
I look like I got hit in the face with a vase
Without Just Blaze, I’d prolly end up like Mase
That’s why I’m down to do every last cameo,
Commercial, or show up in your video,
Back in the eighties these brothers and sisters had skills
So how I’m supposed to pay my bills?
I never ever sold a record because of my vocal
so I stay cashin’ checks from Boost Mobile
cause that’s

Chorus

[Pharrell]
Funky Fresh dressed to impress ready to party
Money in my pocket, jewelry extra-gaudy
To get my kicks you paid two hundred dollars
With Billionaire Boys Club attached to your collar
Leave the guns and the crack and the knives for a while
Check me and Chad on the cover of InStyle
On your television set, dancin and prancin
Just last week I sold three beats to Hanson
I’m in your video, I’ll be in more
Without my beat you’re poor
so what you argue for?
I get more camera time than a video whore
Yo Bussa-Bus, school em some more

[Busta Rhymes]
Straight from the mouth of mighty Busta Rhymes
When your album doesn’t sell you better belieeeeve it’s desperate times
Cause I can do a song and get nothing today
And tomorrow Do the Dew and collect major pay, ha!
Far from the Leaders, cause they were holding me back
Now tell me, was anyone really feelin “Make It Clap”?
Or was I so ubiquitous that you just nodded along
You little suckers… I can’t believe you play that Pussycat Dolls song

[The Game]
It’s time to start a beef and move units
Me and 50 talk shit and you know you rush to it
You buy the mix CD, or download it
Either way, your attention I own it
For a few but what to do
Is fake some violence and break the silence
On the coast that we call the West
Snoop left town so by default I’m best
I started off on an independent
To make the Bigga Figga money was unintended
So now I’ll sue him, so he’s not paid
Anything to keep from seeing my name fade
It’s

Chorus

[Memphis Bleek]
I’m Memph Bleek and I’m a born again hype-man
Here to say that if you help promote the right man
Your fame will develop and grow to another level
They say I’m just a tax write-off for the devil
But Lyor sees it, and he’s no fool
Because everyone knows that Jay-Z rules
So I gotta record deal and that’s just wrong
My raps are weak but my connections are strong

[Cam’Ron]
This is all about, no doubt, self-promotion
So here–take a sip of my Sizzurp potion
(sound of a drink being chugged, then a person vomiting, then a cash register) Bling!
My name’s been stated, Dame Dash created
Thoughts of “Horse and a Carriage” have faded
The only thing left is the pair of keys to my Range, pink-plated
I eBayed it
Everyone said Cam went out like a chump
But I had the internet goin’ nuts–word up
It doesn’t make you the big man, and
To make records that don’t Soundscan, and
The self-promotion of Cam was all part of the plan
Because now Dipset is in full demand, understand?

Chorus

[50 Cent]
My name is 50 Cent, a brand name not a gangster
Dissed Ja Rule… in “Wanksta”
Oiled and shirtless, it’s him I’ve become
Do LL love raps, then beef with everyone
But on the low, I’m all about peace
Robbin and killin and murderin has all ceased
G-Unit’s meal ticket can’t be caught in the beast
Nobody buying another Yayo release!

[Jay-Z]
Aiyyo here’s the situation: Beyonce
In 20 years, not a good policy
Therefore I must ignore, kids and weight gain
Hov is out the door once she lookin Aretha Franklin
But I’ve been lucky before, you remember the start
2 rappers shot each other, it made me chart
Now I’m a figurehead of a label, people
Spas with Lyor, treated as an equal
They call me legit now, nuh uh, still pull a caper
Tell artists I don’t write my contracts down on paper
Jeezy bought it, and now to me his money I’m payin
Label starts failin, make a comeback, sayin

[Mike Jones]
Yo Jay-Z, deep in the heart of the matter
The self-promotion is confirmed by the data
Repeating your name as often as you masturbate
Givin out your number to every fool in the States
This hides the fact all your ideas you’ve plucked
Recycling the act cause you’re untalented as fuck
A whitey in the crew will help your numbers
South… rappers… get… a… pass… to blunder about

Chorus

[Snoop Dogg, Diddy]
Yes we urge to splurge we live for the love
Of ourselves, and the hacks we bring along
(Doggy’s Angels did a song?)
Filling our videos with big-boned sisters
who used to be dudes (Ki Toyyyee, ran for LSU)
Rap’s dead you dread, still got another house to build
Get paid to shuffle up in that Actor’s Guild, come on
From thuggin with B.I.G. and Suge to America’s mascots in ascots
Whatever keeps you paid is all part of the plot
Of course it’s…

Chorus