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Tuesday, July 07, 1998 By Tony Norman, Post-Gazette Columnist
It's been a while since we looked in on the world of gangsta rap. After a rash of shootings in '96 and '97 that left the upper crust of the genre decimated, things have finally settled into a (mostly) nonfelonious routine.
Still, old patterns never really die; they just go into reruns as a less imaginative generation tries to "keep it real," or whatever the latest meaningless phrase from the street is.
Except for occasional bits of mayhem and charges of sexual assault, the goings on during "gangsta rap '98" have been pretty tame.
The so-called West Coast/East Coast feud pitting Suge Knight's Death Row Records against Puff Daddy's Bad Boy Records has given way to the lyrical drama between L.L. Cool J and Canibus, two image-conscious rappers who seem to know and respect the difference between rhetoric and real life.
Things are uncharacteristically civil these days because gangsta rappers aren't as quick to pull the trigger as they were two years ago.
But I think it was MC Proust who said, "the more things change, the less likely it is that Suge Knight is paying your salary."
As Suge's last living protege of any repute, Snoop Doggy Dogg was left crying poverty when Death Row's founder was sent up the river for a decade on charges unrelated to having robbed his artists blind.
Snoop Dogg should have invested in mutual funds when he had the chance. That way he wouldn't have had to move back home and watch his multi-platinum dreams get downsized.
Falling off isn't easy for anyone, especially creatures of the moment like gangsta rappers who've yoked their carts to street culture's cruel and fickle horse.
Meanwhile Master P., an up-and-coming rap mogul from New Orleans, has filled the void, sucking up all the money and chart positions that used to flow to Death Row.
Master P. raps like Tupac Shakur but invests like Smith Barney. His label, No Limit Records, recently bought the remaining 99-years on Snoop's contract from Death Row, showing respect and deference to the incarcerated CEO throughout negotiations.
Unlike the Death Row crew, Master P. prides himself on not getting arrested.
Imagine, a rap label switch without pipes brandished or murder threatened! How in the world did a man as aesthetically crude as Master P. bring such a level of maturity to the rap game?
But not everyone is this polite. New York based DMX is one of the few rappers around who doesn't sound like Tupac, but like the late rapper, has a penchant for getting himself arrested. Less than a month after his debut album "It's Dark and Hell Is Hot" topped the pop chart in its first week, DMX was arrested and charged with raping an exotic dancer at a friend's apartment.
In another Tupac-like move, Wu-Tang Clan's Ol' Dirty Bastard was shot and robbed at his cousin's Brooklyn apartment last week. Hospital officials called his wounds superficial, but they wanted to keep him overnight for observation. Echoing a similar move by Tupac nearly 5 years ago, ODB abruptly left the hospital against his doctor's orders, risking death for street credibility.
Now he stands to become a legend in his own mind. Hope he invests in some mutual funds.
Tony Norman can be reached by email at tnorman@post-gazette.com. His column runs Tuesdays and Fridays.
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