All rock bullet wounds. All use their respective violent experiences to sell records.
If you listened to the radio at all in 2003, you know about 50 Cent’s pre-Eminem troubles. Heck, there’s even a BU Facebook group titled, “I’d Jump In Front of the 10th Bullet For Fiddy.”
In early 2005, The Game talked about his near-death encounter on his hit single, “Dreams,” and in nearly every interview since the release of his debut album, The Documentary.
Now, it’s Cam’ron’s turn. On the morning of Oct. 23, “Killa Cam” was shot in both arms in what originally appeared to be an attempted carjacking. Later that day, he began using the shooting to promote his upcoming CD.
“I got shot three times and my album comes out November 22,” Cam’ron said after leaving Howard University Hospital. This playful statement stands for everything that’s wrong in hip-hop.
Violence was linked to rap long before 50 and Cam’ron burst onto the scene. However, Cam’s comments illustrate an alarming trend in rap, in which a rapper’s thug image is becoming more important than his microphone skills.
With the nightly news not reporting what’s going on in the hood, some rappers have taken on the role of street journalists. Unfortunately, most of the emcees you hear on the radio do more glorifying than reporting. Or, in the case of 50 Cent, they tell you the same story over and over until your ears are bleeding almost as much as his body was on that fateful day.
Cam’ron’s latest rhymes, written less than a week after the shooting, lack the journalistic integrity the streets need. On “Get Em Daddy [Remix],” Cam spits: “I ain’t see stars, I’m a G, paw / threw the Lamb in sixth, drove to the ER.”
This rhyme, which, for the record, doesn’t actually rhyme, roughly translates to “I didn’t see stars because I’m a gangster, man. I threw my Lamborghini into sixth gear and drove to the emergency room.”
While Cam may actually be a G, his rhymes do not honestly report what he went through. Instead, they show people, particularly kids, that maybe bullets aren’t so life-threatening after all.
Furthermore, the positive reaction Cam’ron’s rushed verse has received from Internet message boards shows that the rhyme isn’t as important as the hype surrounding the rhyme.
While guys like Cam, 50 and Game ironically benefit from their respective incidents, the same cannot be said for a once promising rapper, MF Grimm. In 1994, Grimm, who had collaborated with hip-hop legend Kool G Rap and shared a stage with Tupac Shakur, was shot ten times. He survived, but the shooting left him in a wheelchair and without any major label interest.
As Grimm told hip-hop magazine XXL, “When I got shot, the labels all wanted to separate from me. Now it’s part of your deal.”
Despite taking a few bullets to its integrity since 1994, hip-hop is not dead. Killa Cam didn’t kill it, and neither have the countless other rappers glamorizing their hardships. However, if people want rap to stay alive, they need to stop believing the hype. m