” Try to make changes, try to make it right.  Nobody listens so you gotta fight…”
                                                                    
-“Games People Play” Sweet G (1982)
 
 
Over the last couple of weeks the media have been buzzin’ about the protests taking place in London over the death of Mark Duggan, a black man, gunned down by the police. Apparently, the rebellions were organized mostly by activists via social media networks. In contrast, the main Hip Hop story happening in the US over the weekend was Hip Hop artist, the Game, being accused of playing a game of “You Got Punked” with the Compton Sheriff Department via his Twitter account.
 
The “what” is clear.
 
News sources report that , last Friday, somebody using @thegame posted a request to over 500,000 Twitter followers to call the Compton Sheriff’s department for a Hip Hop internship which resulted in the hot lines being jammed for hours.
 
The “why” is debatable.
 
If you believe The Game’s camp, either somebody hacked into his account and started hittin’ folks up with the sheriff’s digits or it was an accident that could happen to anybody.
If you believe the sheriff department’s version, it was a diabolical game of “You Got Punked” which jeopardized the lives of every man, woman and child living in LA.  Or worst, it delayed their doughnut delivery for the evening.
 
Whatever.
 
Either way, it is enough the have the Game possibly bought up on criminal charges, prompting the captain of the department to compare the stunt to “shouting fire in a crowded movie theater,” which, by the way,  is not covered under the Game’s Constitutional right to Free speech.
 
If we look at what is happening, globally, we have to recognize that this issue is a whole lot bigger than an Internet prank. It is about the potential power of Hip Hop artists and social media to provoke social unrest and political change.
 
Hip Hop historically speaking, there has always been a fear by the “powers that be” in this country of entertainers using their star swagga to spark the masses to political action.
 
During the 1940’s and 50’s there was the fear that entertainers were going to “brainwash” the American public into believing that Communism was a better alternative to the poor and oppressed than good ol’ Capitalism. The artists of the 60’s were persecuted for opposing the war in Vietnam or advocating equal rights for African Americans. And during the 80’s Hip Hop was accused of making “ghetto youth” drop their boom boxes  and “fight the power.” 
 
We must remember that it was not misogynistic lyrics that got NWA put on the FBI’s hit list but it was the song “F*** the Police” that raised awareness about police misconduct in Los Angeles during the late 80’s. Also, “pimpology” was not the source of the beef between Ice T and the Feds but it was his song “Cop Killer,” by his heavy metal group Body Count. We must also remember that it was not his problems with 50 Cent that resorted in Young Buck, allegedly, being censored by a mysterious “lyric committee” but a song that spoke out against police brutality.
 
Also, any Hip Hop artist that dares to give props to Mumia Abu -Jamal or Assata Shakur is bound to feel the wrath of the Fraternal Order of Police. Back in 2002,  bowing to pressure, MTV tried to sensor Public Enemy’s “Gotta Give the Peeps What They Want” video for a “Free Mumia” lyric. Also, earlier this year there was an attempt to block rapper, Common’s appearance at a White House poetry function for his song, “A Song for Assata” that was recorded a decade ago.
 
Dr. Carter G. Woodson once said, “if you control a man’s thinking, you don’t have to worry about his actions,” so there has been a constant attempt to dumb down and de-politicize the youth through mainstream Hip Hop. However, historically, attempts to control the human spirit have never been fool proof.  With the growing popularity of social media it is still possible that a message on Face book or a Youtube video may be just enough to spark a revolution in the United States such as what is happening in other parts of the planet.
  
In cities across the country “flash mobs” are showing up in malls and other public places courtesy of somebody on an iphone with too much time on his hands. For the most part the purpose of the gatherings is to, simply, act the fool. However, suppose flash mobs began to get politicized and start showing up en mass at city council meetings, rallies and protests?
 
What would have happened if a rapper decides to turn his half million Twitter followers loose on the establishment after the murder of another Sean Bell  or an Oscar Grant?
 
Don’t get it twisted. That is the real fear of the authorities, not some sophomoric prank.
 
Their greatest fear is that one day rappers like the Game will stop playing games and start mobilizing the masses for political power.
 
In 2011, every thug with a Blackberry is a potential revolutionary.
1.

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  • behind da barz

    --------the chemicals R identical, we're one & the same / with 7 letters in all 3 of my government names / walked on water, nah, neither did jesus / its a parable to make followers & readers believers--------i gave her my honorable discharge & she took it like a soldier--------what's a black beetle anyway, a fuckin roach-------she told the director she tryna get in a school-he said "take them glasses off and get in the pool"---------what ya'll call swag to me is faggotry-------my outfit so disrespectful / u go 'head n sneeze let my presence bless u--------its quite amazing that u rhyme like u do / & how u shine like u grew up in a shrine in peru-------its hard fuckin with niggaz u hope u can trust / ure a fool if ure main bitch is easy to fuck--------beyond the walls of intelligence life is divine / i think of crime when im in a new york state of mind - ------THE WAY SOME ACT IN RAP IS KINDA WACK / IT LACKS CREATIVITY & INTELLIGENCE / BUT THEY DON'T CARE BECAUSE THEIR COMPANY IS SELLING IT / ITS MY PHILOSOPHY ON THE INDUSTRY--------From days I wasn't "Abel/able", there was always "Cain/caine-------know how to leave anything in 30 seconds / when you feel the heat coming & flee with the murder weapon--------ayo my silent moments' loud as the crack of thunder / my hunger like the crocodile that attacked the hunter-------i'm something between platinum & flop, underground & mainstream / conscious, backpack, scratch dat; same thing---------this phiscal year im'a stay hot, buzzin / wit dudes that help me shoot like a-rod's cousin-------i fight chicks who bite dicks / give 'em lock-jaw then make 'em fight pits ------all we see is terrorism on telievision ------i'm da illest nigga alive watch me prove it / i'll snatch your crown with your head still attatched to it ------slap your face till your head ache your neck break / the next day slash your throat thru the neckbrace ------ I'm ahead of the game, ahead of these lames / I'm a head case, the head nurse gets me better with brain ------ure now dealin with da kid who heat-holds & reloads / like god gave him a gta ammunition cheat-code ------once upon a time i used to grind all night / with dat coke residue that was ipod white ------ --i took trips with so much shit in the whip / that if the cops pulled us over the dogs would get sick (sniff) ------ i put my lifetime in between the paper's lines / i'm da quiet storm nigga who fight rhyme ------brain cells are lit ideas start to hit / next the formation of words dat fit / at da table i sit making it legit / when my pen hits da paper...aah shit -------i save money while u spendin ure doe / i must stash like da hair between your lip & your nose ------age don't count in the booth / when your flow stayed submerged in the fountain of youth -------when i'm writing i'm trapped in between the lines / i escape when i finish da rhyme - ------if we can't eat together then u aint my mans / so when u see me in da streets dont shake my hand- -----money is da root of all evil / dats why u always gotta now where u stand with your people--------i can show u how to gamble your money, handle a gun / & be a family man & go home to your sun- -------black diamonds in my jesus-piece / MY GOD-------its like da ball be over the plate & they dont call it a strike- ------i'm a gangsta & a gentleman, show you both sides of the coin / knife at your throat-gun at your groin- --------my testimonial be "death to a phony mc / you wanna impress me, show me a ki--------lord knows what homey would do if i showed him da 9 / a one-eyed man is king in the land of the blind--------on da road to riches & diamond rings / in the land of the blind a man with one eye is the king--------you lack the minerals & vitamins, iron & the niacin--------stares get exchanged then the 5th come out / the tough guy disappears then the bitch come out--------if you got a bith you dont argue with dat bitch / you dont listen to dat bitch all you do is fuck dat bitch-------know da bitch b4 you call yourself lovin it / nogga wit a benz fuckin it------went from $20Gs for blow to $30gs a show / to orgies wit hoes i never seen befo'-------i'm intelectual; passed more essays / than police motorcade parades thru east l.a.-------DEAD IN THE MIDDLE OF LITTLE ITALY LITTLE DID WE KNOW / WE RIDDLED SOME MIDDLE-MAN WHO DIDN'T DO DIDDLY-------visualizing the realism of life in actuality / fuck who's da baddest; a person's status depends on salary-------mechanical movement, understandable smooth shit / that murderers move with-the thief's theme--------DEEP LIKE "THE SHINING" SPARKLE LIKE A DIAMOND / SNEAK AN UZI ON DA ISLAND IN MY ARMY JACKET LINING / HIT THE EARTH LIKE A COMET - INVASION / NAS IS LIKE THE AFRO-CENTRIC ASIAN; ½ MAN, ½ AMAZING-------& why certainly i'm squirtin / bust a nut then get up & wipe my dick on your curtain-------walk by your casket & spit in your face--------i know how to get my peers off me / make 'em cry & die from high blood-pressure cuz tears are salty-------i'm not trying to give you love & affection / i'm tryna give you 60 seconds of erection / then im'a give you cab fare & directions / get your independent ass outta here - question?---------black cat is bad luck; bad guys wear black / must've been a white guy who started all that--------either you're slinging crack-rocks or you got a wicked jumpshot--------all us blacks got is sports & entertainment--------2 many athletes, actors & rappers / but not enough niggaz at nasa - ------why did bush knock down the towers?--------I REACT LIKE MIKE / ANY ONE TY-SON, JOR-DAN, JACK-SON / action, pack gunz, ridiculous--------all the teachers couldn't reach me & my mom couldn't beat me / hard enough to make up for my pop not seeing me---------kings from queens, from queens comes kings / we're raising hell like a class when the lunch bell rings---------excuse me miss, can i give you a minute? / may i buy you a glass of ice with liquor in it?--------what goes around comes around i figure / now we got white kids calling themselves nigga / the tables turn as the crosses burn...---------YOU LOVE TO HEAR THE STORY AGAIN & AGAIN / OF HOW IT ALL GOT STARTED WAY BACK WHEN--------i guess they got a grudge cause i won't budge / playin tough, staring down the judge with my hands cuffed---------A CHILD IS BORN WITH NO STATE OF MIND / BLIND TO THE WAYS OF MANKIND--------who shot biggie smalls? if we don't get them they gon' get us all / i'm down to run up pn them crackers in their city hall----------its kinda hard to be optimistic / when your homey is laying dead in a casket----------they say the blacker the berry; the sweeter the juice / i say the darker the flesh; then the deeper the roots---------i took your breath away then we'd perform cpr---------there's no real way it can be explained / i guess its just the way i smile when i hear your name--------CASH RULES EVERYTHING AROUND ME / C.R.E.A.M. GET THE MONEY, DOLLAR DOLLAR BILL Y'AAAAALL------------see I’m a poet to some, a regular modern day shakespeare / jesus christ the king of these latter day saints here / To shatter the picture in which of that as they paint me as / a monger of hate and satan a scatter-brained atheist--------i remember marvin gaye used to sing to me / he had me feeling like black was the thing to be------------this be that put-you-out-your-misery song / that makes you ask your man 'is this the joint he's dissin me on?'---------foul all your life now ure 90 / on ure death bed u regret being grimey---------INDUSTRY RULE #4080, RECORD COMPANY PEOPLE ARE SHAAADYYYY / so kids watch your back cause i think they smoke crack---------society's a weak excuse for a man-----------planet earth my place of birth / born to be the sole controller of the universe---------the mic had my prints, on on it was a body---------a squealer tells, but the dealer still sells---------some young male put in jail / lawyer so good his bail was on sale----------i'm just takin a piss......unless you're gonna do it----------fuck street clothes, we thug it out in tuxedos / stomp niggaz with hard bottoms in casinos--------people higher up have the lowest self-esteem / & the prettiest people do the ugliest things-----------IF YOU ADMIRE SOMEONE YOU SHOULD GO 'HEAD & TELL 'EM / PEOPLE NEVER GET THE ROSES WHILE THEY CAN STILL SMELL 'EM-----------goddamn, what a nigga gotta do to make a million / without the fbi catching feelings--------i got a story to tell / in these streets we got drugs & guns for sale---------we keep the nine tucked chop dimes up rap about it / wild out fuck niggaz up laugh about it---------- read between tha lines of ya eyes and ya brows / ya handshake aint matchin ya smile---------what the fuck i rap for? to push a fuckin rav-4?-------fuck all the glamour & glitz, i plan to get rich / i'm from new york & never was a fan of the knicks----------the white boy blossomed after dre endorsed him / his flow on renegade-fuckin awesome...applaud him-------before i start you know i gotta / pay homage & respects to afrika bambaata---------DRUGS IS THE KEY TO SUCCESS / MONEY IS THE KEY TO SEX------i pimped my crib so i must exhibit------- I - WILL - NOT - LOSE !
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