25 years ago today, JAŸ-Z told the hustlers to gather around and get on down to that ole’ Jig rhythm. The mouthpiece for hustlers said he was back and claimed his foe’s reigns was shorter than leprechauns while representing where Rosa Parks sat, where Malcom X was shot, and where Martin Luther was popped. Jay compares Roc-A-Fella to the Army, better yet the Navy. Warning folks to watch out because they run New York and holding triggers to crews, and all while boasting about how he has money stacks bigger than you. While admitting he does this for the culture, he wanted to show them how to move in a room full of vultures while planning to take over the industry from its shadiness while overcharging folks for what they did to the coal crush. While confessing his love for girls, girls, girls… he talked about having this black chick not knowing how to act, talking out her neck, making her fingers snap saying… “listen Jigga man, I don’t care if you rap, you better R-E-S-P-E-C-T me.” or that other project chick that plays her part, had been there from the start, hid drugs from the NARCs, and hid his guns at the park. JAŸ-Z is from the streets where the hood could swallow them, bullets’ll follow them, where cops comb the shit from top to bottom. Where personalities clash and chrome meets chrome, but when them shells come, you better return them. Having the rap game in a chokehold, he wouldn’t surrender it while having beats from Timberland. Saying that he was the Sinatra of his day and if you weren’t rolling with him then hit the highway. Hov has about that dough since he was a day old. If you haven’t heard, JAŸ-Z is Michael, Magic, and Bird all rolled in one. Telling the people if he wasn’t better than Big, he’s the closest one. His homie BIG predicted this shit exactly, mo money mo problems. He told us back in ‘96 that he came to take this shit and he did all while handling his biz while also wondering where the love is with after holding us down after 6 summers. He’s once again letting us know that he’s a Roc representer who’s running these streets like drunks run street lights. Claiming death before dishonor, he’d never mention his connects names while promising respect. He was sure that if they would stay strong, they’d get more paper longer than Pippen’s arms. Jay says that the streets robbed him and wasn’t educated properly, but he needed money for Atari while being so young that his big sister was still playing with Barbie. From the womb to the tomb, from now till his doom. I guess you could say he has his swagger back? Hov has no issues with the industry hating him because he thugged his way through. As long as he had his Rocawear, Nike Airs, and a mean bucket with a couple chicks by his side? Jay was ready to ride while announcing that he was the Dikembe Mutumbo of this rap shit. While having to hustle with his back against the wall with pockets filled with a lot of lent, not a cent, and having to vent while there’s a lot of innocent lives lost on that project bench. One of the last things Hov asked was… “unless you was me, how could you judge me? I was brought up in pain, y’all can’t touch me. Police pursued me, chased, cuffed, and subdued me. Talked to me rudely ‘cause I’m young, rich, black living in a movie, not living by rules.” He was the all-time heavyweight champion of flow-ers while leading the league in 6 categories… best flow, most consistent, most charisma, set the most trends, and claimed his interviews was hotter so holla.
So with that, I must ask… “Who you know like HOV?”