What was the feeling when you were finally freed and hit Cali sand? Out on bail fresh outta jail, California dreamin’. Soon as I stepped on the scene, I’m hearin’ hoochies screamin’. Fiendin’ for money and alcohol the life of a Westside playa where cowards die and its all ball. Let me serenade the streets of L.A. from Oakland to Sacktown the Bay Area and back down Cali is where they put they mack down. Give me love! The powers that be have a way of killing off its prophets who bring promise to the downtrodden. Did you fear the same fate? Probably be murdered for the shit that I said. I bring the real, be a legend, breathin’ or dead. My only fear of death is reincarnation, [I’ve got the] heart of a solider with the brains to teach a whole nation. How would you describe people’s receptiveness to your message? My lyrics motivate the planet. It’s similar to Rhythm Nation but thugged out, forgive me Janet. Who’s in control? I’m activating yo souls. Still I’m just a simple man all I want is money, fuck the fame. Now that you’re on the other side, is there a heaven for a G? How many brothas fell victim to the streets? Rest in peace young nigga, there’s a Heaven for a ‘G.’ Be a lie, if I told ya that I never thought of death. My niggas, we the last ones left. There’s a ghetto up in heaven and it’s ours, black power! Why do you think the streets show you so much love? Nobody loves me I’m a thug nigga. I only hang out with the criminals and the drug dealers. I love niggas cause we coming from the same place. One of the beefs by critics of hip-hop is that they feel the music is misogynistic where women are called bitches and hoes indiscriminately. Why do rappers call women bitches in hip-hop music? You leave your kids with your mama cause your headin’ for the club in a skin tight miniskirt lookin’ for some love. Got them legs wide open while you’re sittin’ at the bar talkin’ to some nigga ‘bout his car. I guess he said he had a Lexus, what’s next? You headin’ to his car for some sex. I pass by can’t hold back tears inside cause, Lord knows for years I tried. And all the other people on my block hate your guts then you wonder why they stare and call you slut. It’s like your mind don’t understand you don’t have to kill your dreams plotting schemes on a man. Keep your head up, legs closed, eyes open. Either a nigga wear a rubber or he die smokin’. I’m hearin’ rumors so you need to switch and niggas wouldn’t call you bitch, I betcha. Dear Ms. Deloris Tucker keep stressin’ me fuckin’ with a muthafucker’s mind. I figured you wanted to know why we call them hoes “bitches,” and maybe this might help you understand it ain’t personal; strictly business baby, strictly business. Speaking of Ms. Tucker, she was on a personal crusade to combat you and your music. What do you have to say to your detractors? Deloris Tucker, you’s a muthafucker. Instead of tryin’ to help a nigga you destroy a brother worse than the others. Bill Clinton, Mr. Bob Dole, you’re too old to understand the way the game is told. You’re lame.
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for more. Cause ain’t nothin’ worse than when your son wants to know why his daddy don’t love him no mo’. You can’t complain you was dealt this hell of a hand without a man, feelin’ helpless. Because there’s too many things for you to deal with dying inside, but outside you’re looking fearless. While tears, is rollin’ down your cheeks, ya steady hopin’ things don’t fall down this week cause if it did, you couldn’t take it, and don’t blame me I was given this world I didn’t make it. And now my son’s getting older and older and cold from havin’ the world on his shoulders and it’s crazy, it seems it’ll never let up, but please, you got to keep your head up. What is Thug Passion? Aight, new drink; one part Alize one part Cristal – Thug’s Passion, baby, y’all know what time it is. This drink is guaranteed to get the pussy wet and the dick hard. Now if ya with me pour a glass and drink with a nigga know what I mean? I ain’t trying to turn you all niggas into alcohols. Alcoholics, haha. I’m just trying to turn you into muthafuckin’ thugs. So come and get some of this Thug Passion. Once a chick is on that Thug Passion, what’s the best way for her to keep a thug? Now peep, it here go the secret on how to keep a playa: Some love makin’ and home-cookin’ I’ll see ya later. It don’t take a lot to keep a nigga heart, must be a lady in the light but real freaky in the dark. How do you think you’ve progressed as a man moving up in the music world? Hopin’ God hear me, I entered the game; look how much I changed. I’m no longer innocent - casualties of fame. Made a lot of money, seen a lot of places. And I swear I seen a peaceful smile on my mama’s face when I gave her the keys to her own house, this your land your only son done became a man. Watchin’ time fly; I love my people do or die, but I wonder why we scared to let each other fly. When you passed, your fans filled gutters of the hood worldwide with their tears. Any words to ease their pain? Sellin’ my soul for material wishes, fast cars and bitches; wishin’ I live my life a legend, immortalized in pictures. Why shed tears? Save your sympathy. My childhood years were spent buryin’ my peers in the cemetery. Here’s a message to the newborns, waitin’ to breathe: If you believe then you can achieve, just look at me. Against all odds, though life is hard we carry on. Do you have a message for your fans that miss you? There’s no way I can pay you back, but the plan is to show you that I understand you are appreciated. Just because you live in the ghetto doesn’t mean you can’t grow.
Your music and actions have been blamed for an increase in crime in urban communities. How do you feel about that? Last year was a hard one, but life goes on. Hold my head against the wall learnin’ right from wrong. They say my ghetto instrumental, detrimental to kids as if they can’t see the misery in which they live. Blame me, for the outcome, ban my records - check it: Don’t have to bump this, but please respect it. I took a minus and now the hard times are behind us turned into a plus, now they stuck livin’ blinded. Niggas been dyin’ for years, so how could they blame us?
Your mother has continued your legacy by spreading peace and creating a center to cultivate arts for urban kids in your name. Pour out some liquor and I reminisce, cause through the drama I can always depend on my mama. And when it seems that I’m hopeless you say the words that can get me back in focus. When I was sick as a little kid, to keep me happy there’s no limit to the things you did, and all my childhood memories are full of all the sweet things you did for me. And even though I act crazy, I gotta thank the Lord that you made me. There are no words that can express how I feel. You never kept a secret, always stayed real and I appreciate how you raised me and all the extra love that you gave me. I wish I could take the pain away. If you can make it through the night there’s a brighter day. Everything will be alright if ya hold on it’s a struggle every day, gotta roll on.
How do you feel about Bush having a war of choice thousands of miles away that costs $1.2 trillion over 10 years, but there wasn’t a serious effort to save the victims of Katrina here in this country? The only time they notice a nigga is when he’s clutching on the 4-5. [Plus, when] it seems the rain’ll never let up I try to keep my head up, and still keep from getting’ wet up. You know it’s funny, when it rains it pours, they got money for wars, but can’t feed the poor. Say there ain’t no hope for the youth and the truth is it ain’t no hope for the future. And then they wonder why we crazy. We ain’t meant to survive, cause it’s a setup and even though you’re fed up, ya got to keep your head up.
When you passed, there was a hurried service and you were cremated. Now you mother plans to take your ashes to Soweto, South Africa to honor the fight against apartheid. If it were up to you, how would have liked your ceremony to have gone? Bury me smilin’ with G’s in my pocket, have a party at my funeral let every rapper rock it. Let the hoes that I used to know from way before kiss me from my head to my toe. Give me a paper and a pen so I can write about my life of sin, a couple bottles of Gin in case I don’t get in. Tell all my people I’m a ridah! Nobody cries when we die; we outlaws, let me ride. Life goes on.
Bill Cosby has made numerous speeches lately on the bastardization of Black kids in the hood. What are your comments? To all the ladies havin’ babies on they own, I know it’s kinda rough and you’re feelin’ all alone. Daddy’s long gone and he left you by ya lonesome thank the Lord for kids, even if nobody else want ‘em. Cause I think we can make it, in fact, I’m sure. And if you fall, stand tall and come back
Is there anything you’d like to tell the readers before you leave? There’s gon’ be some stuff you gon’ see that’s gon’ make it hard to smile in the future. But through whatever you see, through all the rain and the pain, you gotta keep your sense of humor. You gotta be able to smile through all this bullshit. Remember that. Any time y’all wanna see me again rewind this track right here, close your eyes and picture me rollin’.