I used to listen to that Red Alert & Rap Attack...

I used to listen to that Red Alert & Rap Attack,
I fell in love with all that poetry, I mastered that…
– NaS

He was right. I read liner notes, shout outs, production credits and listened intently on every lyrical journey. I wondered out loud about subliminal disses like if, Rakim threw shots and if, PMD threw ‘em back. I spent Friday and Saturday nights between Kiss and BLS with, Kool DJ Red Alert and Mr. Magic , completely captivated by the Bridge Wars. I remember when I caught Slow and Low on my favorite blue TDK for the first time. I saw Beat Street, Breakin’ and Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo and practiced moves in the garage like there was a draft for the Fresh Fest Tour . I kept extra Boom Box batteries in the freezer. I had, Three Times Dope’s Original Stylin'. I listened to, The Great Adventures of Slick Rick and What More Can I Say every day for a year. Learned about Black Nationalism from, X-Clan and Poor Righteous Teachers. I lost my mind the first time I heard LL’s verse on ‘Rampage’. Like, Will Smith at Bel-Air Academy, my B-Boy dedication was serious.

“Hip Hop is my hobby.”

PJ moved to Sharrod’s seat and waved for me to cool off, “Why you always let him get you tight, son?”

“You right. Fuck that I wanna get back to my list. We covered G Rap, Rakim, Kane and KRS but that’s them dudes right there so I gotta just say their names again. But I gonna make a stop in Houston and pick up, Mr. Scarface your favorite rapper’s favorite rapper cuz I love that gangsta shit. Of course, Redman that nigga is ill and how nobody said, LL. How you gonna leave, LL off ANY list … or, Q-Tip.”

Boo’s grill lit up like the North Star on baby Jesus, “Q-Tip’s that nigga, D.”

“Hell yeah, Boo. Low End Theory is my favorite album. And my last one …”

“Baxter, what the fuck is you talking about?” Sharrod’s face was mad wrinkled, “Them niggas don’t give a fuck about you. Don’t your always late to class ass gotta be somewhere?”

“Why are you still here, Sharrod? Don’t you gotta pray to the west or something? You always trying to play somebody.”

He held his arms wide from his body, “Ain’t nobody trying, Preacher boy…” and I stood up from the table in response, “you ain’t saying nothing, son …”

“YOU ain’t saying nothing …”

PJ stood in between again, “Neither one of y’all saying nothing. So shut the fuck up and listen to my list. Y’all niggas can make out later. Both y’all talking shit after both y’all list like twelve names for your bullshit Rap Pages book report!”

“Nah, you right, P. But I forget to add, 2Pac.”

Sharrod spun back towards the table, “That nigga from Juice? Why, cuz you look like him, D?”

“Damn, Sharrod. That shit don’t make no sense.”

Boo slammed his hand on the table, “Word, son! I told you. That nigga ain’t wanna believe me. You look just like that nigga, D!”

“Whatever, man. I’m talking about, 2Pacalypse Now! The album. That shit was tight. Wasn’t nobody on up on that nigga.”

Sherrod’s face softened, we found our mutual messenger,

“What! Nah, that nigga, Pac is truth, what’s that joint”, he closed his eyes to channel Pac ‘… too many brothers daily heading for tha big penn, niggas commin' out worse offthan when they went in, over tha years I done alot of growin' up, getten drunk thrown' up, cuffed up, then I said I had enough, there must be another route, way out to money and fame, I changed my name and played a different game … ’ that nigga got some shit.”

I gave him a pound, “Yeah, Trapped that’s my shit, yo and Soulja's Story is my other joint, that’s what inspired me to start writing…” My transition was awkward but I wasn’t gonna play myself just because he liked Pac, “What about Nasty NaS on that Main Source shit, ‘Verbal assassin my architect pleases, when I was twelve I went to hell for snuffing Jesus ’ now that shit is ill.”

Our tug of war settled into temporary treaty as he sat and listened, “Or Chuck D because pick one, Yo! Bum Rush the Show, Nation of Millions, Fear of a Black Planet, Apocalypse '91.., shit, all of them were dope. That’s that hardcore, Black Panther shit like that nigga, Paris he make you wanna smack a white dude and shit”, laughter rang off the walls, we sounded like unorganized rebellion but this was our exercise in free will.

“Dr. Dre, Snoop Doggy Dog and the whole, Chronic shit is off the hook. I’m thinking that’s the future.”

M