Just K...

Signing Off
written by Just K

The first hip-hop single I ever bought was Elevators by Outkast.

“True I got more fans than the average man but not enough loot to last me
to the end of the week, I live by the beat like you live check to check
If you don't move yo' feet then I don't eat, so we like neck to neck”

I was hooked. I loved hip-hop. What I loved so much about hip-hop - what made me write about this art form, this culture week after week was the ability to hop into another person’s psyche, for better or worse. And sometimes you realize that your situations and thoughts weren’t so far from you favorite rapper’s. To hear Dre and Big Boi rap about progress, but not achieving financial success was deep to me. It was the first time I realized that fame and cash don’t necessarily go hand-in-hand. Coincidentally, this song dropped around the same time Hammer filed for bankruptcy.

I live for the stories. I live for the perspectives. C.R.E.A.M. resonated with every possible demographic, more so the demographic that didn’t have any, which was my family at the time. Now, I listen to Little Brother and feel like half the time they’re rapping the soundtrack to my life.

Listening to Pac was like listening to that dude who constantly had that internal struggle to do better, but kept falling back to his old ways. You could hear the intelligence. You could hear the brilliance. You could hear the rebellious nature and the rage inside of him. He reminded me of so many classmates. The ones that could answer a question that no one else in the class could, but he felt so targeted by the teachers that he refused to participate.

And Biggie’s stories were so vivid you would swear you were on the corner with him.

Even braggadocio battle raps put me into the mindset of someone who felt that they were absolutely unbeatable.

“I grab mics and push n****s to the left, so fast their hearts end up on the right side of their chests”

~ Canibus

Unreal.

Then the voices. The hunger in Freeway’s voice on What We Do, the recklessness you could hear from DMX in Stop Being Greedy, or the pain and hatred you could hear from Jay and Beans on Where Have You Been. How about the raw, unguided energy a young Busta Rhymes gave you? The voice of a weary storyteller that’s seen too much is delivered consistently by Scarface. The emotion in a voice just pulls me in.

The beats alone could never do it, but damn does it set the backdrop for magic. Do I still go bonkers for All About the Benjamins? Hell yeah! Remember the first time you heard that beat on Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Could See? Damn. Electric Relaxation and Bonita Applebum makes me want to get a massage while watching a romantic comedy. I swear I thought about stomping a dude out when Lil’ Jon came on one time, but I was rocking some fresh whites – no blood on the snow whites, son. I dare you to tell me you don’t get hyped when Just Blaze brings that heat with U Don’t Know. I double dare you to tell me a part of you doesn’t feel more aggressive when Thug Luv comes on.

The feelings, man. The feelings I hear in the music, the feelings I get from the music. It’s the feeling. The feelings I see hip-hop invoke. I rapped along to Triumph when I had nothing to cheer about. I spit the words to Victory after winning a track meet. Either way, somehow it felt like I won. Kids with nothing rapped about going from ashy to classy. Girls really think they’re the best when Drake raps. Folks had college flashbacks when Asher Roth dropped his single. I promise I wanted a boo thanks to Mary J. and Meth.

When it’s done right, hip-hop speaks to you. This was just my way of speaking back. Thanks for listening for a while. I guess I had a little something to say.

Thanks.