Hip-Hop Rap and the Quagmire of Blacks

By Xah Lee. Date: . Last updated: .

Recently i've been listening to the radio a lot, and one of the channel i listen to is a “WILD 94.9 (FM) Party Station” (wild949.com) in San Jose area (California, USA). It is a black station that repeatedly plays the top hip-hop rap pop songs. I have not watched TV since about 1998, and hardly follow pop music of any type except overhearing them in stores or radio, so i'm not at all familiar what are the pop songs or singers out there are, and have hardly ever listened to rap in my life.

Holidae In (that's Holiday Inn)

One of the top song played all the time on the hip-hop station is Holidae In, a rap type of song, featuring a white female cooing “Whachu doin?” with a particular accent and in heat. This is a particularly comely song because of its sexual sound. One gets curious after hearing it all the time about what it sayz. I found that the lyrics of which goes thus.

Official video, censored song. Chingy - Holidae In
Uncensored, but no video. Chingy - Holidae In
Chingy - Holidae In

Bomb ass pussy
Ma ooh you got that bomb, know you got it
Ma ooh, you got some bomb ass pussy
Ma I know you got that bomb bomb pussy

[Chorus: Snoop] + (Girl)
(Whachu doin?) Nothing chillin at the Holidae In
(Who you wit?) Me and my peeps won't you bring four of your friends
(What we gon' do?) Feel on each other and sip on some Hen
One thing leading to another let the party begin

[Verse 1: Chingy]
Peeps call me up {*phone ring*} said it's a ho-tel party
Just bring the liquor there's already eight shawties
I'm on my way (way) let me stop by the store
Get a 12 pack of Corona, plus an ounce of 'dro, ya know?
Now I'm on Highway 2-7 need a natural graze road
I'm already blowed, hit third I'm a be be blowed some mo'
Pulled up, stop parked, rims still spinning
Valet look like he in the game and must be winning
To room 490 I'm headed, on my way up
There's three girls on the elevator like “wassup”
I told em follow me they knew I had it cracking B
One said “ain't you that boy that be on B E T?”
“Ya that's me, Ching-a-ling equipped wit much ding-a-ling”
Knock on the door I'm on the scene of things
Busted in, Henny bottle to the face!
Fuck it then, feel like my head a toxic waste
There's some pretty girls in herre, I heard em whispering
Talking bout “that's that dude that sing 'Right Thurr' he glistening”
I ain't come to talk (talk) I ain't come to sit (sit)
What I came for was to find out who I'm gon hit, aww shit

[Verse 2: Chingy]
Ma showed up like “what's the hold up?”
Man know what get them wraps and roll up
I took a chick in the bathroom seeing what's poppin
You know what's on my mind, shirts off and panties dropping
Niggaz knocking on the door drunk, and silly
The girl said “can I be in yo video” I'm like “yeah!”, “oh really?”
Now she naked strip teasing, me I'm just cheesing
She gave me a reason to be a damn heathen
Handled that, told ol' G, bring tha camera
Then I thought about, no footage while I ram her
Walked out the bathroom smiling, cats still whiling
Sharing the next room wit some girls lookin like they from an island

[Verse 3: Ludacris]
Stop, drop, KABOOM!, baby rub on ya nipples
Some call me Ludacris, some call me Mr. Wiggles
Far from little, make ya mammary glands giggle
Got 'em under control, the bowl of tender biddles
Doc-tor giggles, I can't stop until it tickles
Just play a little “D” and I'll make ya mouth dribble
Bits and Kibbles, got 'em all after the pickle
I swing it like a bat, but these balls are not whiffle
Hit 'em in triples, wit no strikes, stripes, or whistles
I ain't felt this good, since my wood lived off a thistle
Sippin' some ripple, I got quarters, dimes, and nickels
For shizzle dizzle, I'm on a track with the Big Snoop Dizzle
Let the Henny trickle, down the beat, wit a ghetto tempo
I done blazed the instrumental, laid it plain and simple
Getting brain in the rental, I done did it again
My eyes chinky, I'm wit Chingy, at the Holidae In

[Outro: Snoop Dogg]
Yeah, let the party begin, bitch
Ching-a-ling Ling, all the way in St. Louis
My nigga Chingy, Disturbing Tha Peace
Luda, Luda, going hard on you hoes
Yeah bitch, bring four of ya friends
Meet me at the Holidae In
Bring a gang of that Hen, some DSOP
Oh wee, and light that sticky icky
And we gone do the damn thing
Now what I'm talking bout
We gon' disturb the peace right now
Yeah we ain't doing nothing but chillin
We chillin' and nuttin'
Know what I'm talking bout, so push the button
You know what's happenin', fa shizzle, uh huh
Yeah bitch, trying to run from this pimpin'
You can't out run the pimpin' bitch, I done told you
Ma as in mama, baby.
Hen Refers to Hennessy, the brand of cognac popular in the hip hop scene.
Corona A brand of beer from Mexico.
rims still spinning A decorative wheel hub that spins; popular in hip-hop community.
wassup “what's up”; a colloquial greeting among Blacks.
shawties girls.
St. Louis St. Louis, Missouri, United States, hometown of the singer.
hoes whores.

Fantastically raw. I like this song. I like frenzy dance pop. Pure animalistic frenzy, cooling my complicated philosophical brain, and these fuck-slinging rap pieces soothe me proper, with their sexuality explicitness sans ado.

Holidae In album cover
Chingy Jackpot album

Runnin' (dying to live)

Another piece, which began with a female singing with a raspy voice blurred with radio statics in the background then came male rap. This female voice is just so very attractive to me, and i have wondered if that radio statics came from poor reception and or if there is just a clear version of her singing, or if her singing and the follow up rap are two different songs. I couldn't make out exactly the lyrics or what the song is about at all. The station don't usually say what song is playing, probably because their listeners knew and it ain't cool to spill. I spent 2 hours on the web eventually identified this piece with pieces of lyrics that i made out.

2pac - Runnin

Artist: Tupac, (featuring Notorious BIG, aka Biggie Small). 2003.

title: 2pac - Runnin

You know, I wonder if they'll laugh when I am dead
Why am I fighting to live, if I'm just living to fight
Why am I trying to see, when there aint nothing in sight
Why am I trying to give, when no one gives me a try
Why am I dying to live, if I'm just living to die

[Notorious B.I.G.]
Check it, I grew up a fuckin screw up
Got introduced to the game, got a ounce and fuckin blew up
Choppin rocks overnight
The nigga Biggie Smalls tryin ta turn into the black Frank White
We had to grow dreads to change our description
Two cops is on the milk box missin
Show they toes you know they got stepped on
A fist full of bullets a chest full of Teflon
Run from the police picture that, nigga I'm too fat
I fuck around and catch a asthma attack
That's why I bust back, it don't phase me
When he drop, take his glock, and I'm Swayze
Celebrate, my escape, sold the glock, bought some weight
Laid back, I got some money to make, motherfucker

Its on me
And still I'm havin memories of high speeds, when the cops crashed
As I laugh pushin the gas when my glocks blast
We was young, and we was dumb but we had heart
In the dark when we survived through the bad parts
Many dreams is what I had, and many wishes
No hesitation in extermination of these snitches
And these bitches they still continue to persue me
A couple of movies now the whole world tryin to screw me
even the cops tried to sue me
So what can I do but stay true, sippin 22's a brewin
now the medias tryin to test me got the press askin questions, tryin to stress me
misery is all I see, thats my mind's state
My history with the police is shakin' the crime rate
Ma main man had 2 strikes, slipped, got arrested and flipped
He screamed 'Thug Life!' and emptied a clip
gots tired of runnin from the motherfuckin police
Frank White A fictional a drug lord from 1990 film “King of New York”. King of New York movie
dreads dreadlocks, a type of hair style, characterized by bundles that are knoted together, naturally occurs if hair is not washed or combed for long.
Teflon the brand name of the chemical used for coating pans and cookware to create non-stick property. Not sure what's the use here.
glock A brand name hand gun.
2 strikes Refers to the US Three-strikes law. Basically, 3 crimes of violence means jail for life.

O ho MY GOD! I thought this is a love song, not realizing what wretchedness and persecution it expresses. I love this piece evermore.

2pac's Resurrection album cover
This runnin' (dying to live) is in the album Resurrection. 2pac - Runnin

This piece is just too strong and i started to find out who is Tupac. One thing led into another, and pretty soon it is a story of gangsters and the black and rap community. As i have learned, Tupack is dead, and the “Notorious B I G” (aka Biggie Smalls, Christopher Wallace) featured in this song is also dead. Both are murdered and unsolved. L A Times ran a article:

[Who Killed 2PAC By Chuck Philips. At http://articles.latimes.com/2002/sep/06/business/fi-tupac6 , accessed on 2011-08-02 ]

It claims that the then-alive Notorius B I G is behind 2Pac's murder, but the article itself is quite disputed. As it is, there are lots of theories and speculations out there, some will have you believe 2pac is not dead as Elvis is not dead. All in all, one thing we can be sure is that many of the rappers and gansgers are quite intertwined. What a intriguing world. One can go from destitute ghetto to a millionaire rapper and still be heavily involved in gangs. Perhaps, one's background and ways of life is hard to change. It ain't just a matter of poverty.

In hindsight, looking back at this song “runnin'” published posthumously, its lyrics, it's rather a eulogy, of 2Pac and Notorious BIG.

Stand Up (when i move you move)

I spent now about 6 hours looking at the various lyrics of the top rap songs that i liked from the radio. Here's one with the constant chant “when i move you move”. It is by Ludacris, and the song is called “Stand Up”. The lyrics here don't mean much, but O the eroticism in the sound. Black girls have the voice down.

Ludacris - Stand Up (2003). Ludacris, Chicken n Beer
Ludacris - Stand Up

Stand up! Stand up!
Stand up! Stand up!

[Chorus: Ludacris and (girl)]
When I move you move (just like that?)
When I move you move (just like that?)
When I move you move (just like that?)
Hell yeah! Hey DJ bring that back!

[Verse 1]
How you ain't gon' FUCK! bitch out me?
I'm the GOD DAMN reason you in VIP
CEO you don't have to see ID
I'm young, wild, and strapped like Chi-Ali
BLAOW! We ain't got nothing to worry about
Whoop ass, let security carry em out
Watch out for the medallion my diamonds are wreckless
Feels like a MIDGET is hanging from my neckless
I pulled up wit a million trucks
Looking, smelling, feeling like a million bucks-ahh!
Pass the bottles, the heat is on
We in the huddle all smoking that Cheech and Chong
What's wrong?! The club and moon is full
And I'm lookin for a THICK young lady to pull
One sure shot way to get em outta them pants
Take note to the brand new dance, like this


[Verse 2]
Go on wit ya big ass! lemme see something
Tell ya little friend he can quit mean mugging
I'm lit and I don't care what no one thinks
But where the FUCK is the waitress at wit my drinks?!
My people outside and they can't get in
We gon' rush the back door and break em in
The owner already pissed cause we sorta late
But our time and our clothes gotta coordinate
Most girls lookin right some lookin a mess
That's why they spilling drinks all over ya dress
But Louie Vuitton bras all over your breasts
Got me wanting to put hickies all over ya chest-ahh
C'mon! we gon party tonight
Y'all use mouth to mouth bring the party to life
Don't be scurred, show another part of your life
The more drinks in your system the harder to fight!


[Verse 3]
Damn right the Fire Marshall wanna shut us down
Get us out so someone can gun us down
We was two songs away from getting some cutta
Now we one song away from tearing da club up
Move over! Luda got something to say
Do it now cause 'tomorrow' ain't promised 'today'
Work wit me! let's become one with the beat
And don't worry bout me steppin all over ya feet
Chicken and Beer album cover
Ludacris, Chicken n Beer

Cute white chicken. Though, the leg apparently is from a black chick.

What is your fantasy

Another, “What's your fantasy”, is also on the top. It is another fine piece by Ludacris. It goes:

Ludacris - What's Your Fantasy. Censored version. Ludacris, Back for the First Time
Ludacris - What's Your Fantasy

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Give it to me now, give it to me now
give it to me now, give it to me now

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Give it to me now, give it to me now
give it to me now..

[Chorus: Ludacris]
I wanna, li-li-li-lick you from yo' head to yo' toes
And I wanna, move from the bed down to the down to the to the flo'

[Chorus: Shawna]
Then I wanna, ahh ahh -- you make it so good I don't wanna leave
But I gotta, kn-kn-kn-know what-what's your fan-ta-ta-sy

I wanna get you in the Georgia Dome on the fifty yard line
while the Dirty Birds kick for t'ree
And if you like in the club we can do it
in the DJ booth or in the back of the V.I.P.
Whipped cream with cherries and strawberries on top
Lick it don't stop, keep the door locked while the boat rock
We go-bots and robots so they gotta wait til the show stop
or how 'bout on the beach with black sand
lick up your thigh then call me the Pac Man
Table top or just give me a lap dance
The Rock to the Park to the Point to the Flatlands
That man Ludacris (woo) in the public bathroom
or in back of a classroom
how ever you want it lover lover gonna tap that ass soon
see I cast 'em and I past 'em get a tight grip and I grasp 'em
I flash 'em and out last 'em
and if ain't good then I trash 'em while you stash 'em
I'll let 'em free
and the tell me what they fantasy
like up on the roof roof tell yo boyfriend not to be mad at me

I wanna get you in the bath tub
with the candle lit you give it up till they go out
or we can do it on stage of the Ludacris concert
cause you know I got sold out
or red carpet dick could just roll out
go 'head and scream you can't hold out
we can do it in the pouring rain
runnin the train when it's hot or cold out
how 'bout in the library on top of books
but you can't be too loud
you wanna make a brother beg for it
give me TLC 'cause you know I be too proud
we can do it in the white house
tryna make them turn the lights out
champaign with my campaign let me do the damn thing
what's my name, what's my name, what's my name a sauna, jacuzzi
in the back row at the movie
You can stratch my back and rule me
You can push me or just pull me
on hay in middle of the barn (woo) rose pedals on the silk sheets uh
eating fresh fruits sweep yo woman right off her feet


I wanna get you in the back seat windows up
that's the way you like to fuck, clogged up fog alert
Rip the pants and rip the shirt, ruff sex make it hurt
in the garden all in the dir
Roll around Georgia Brown that's the way I like it twerk
Legs jerk, overworked, underpaid but don't be afraid
In the sun or up in the shade
on the top of my escalade
Maybe your girl and my friend can trade; tag team, off the ropes!
On the ocean or in the boat! Factories or on hundred spokes!
What about up in the candy sto' that chocolate chocolate make it melt
Whips and chains, handcuffs, smack a little booty up with my belt
Scream help play my game; dracula man I'll get my fangs
Horseback and I'll get my reigns, school teacher let me get my brains
Back for the First Time
Ludacris, Back for the First Time


Another hip-hop by a black chick, has the following ear-catching lines:

My milk shake brings all the boys to the yard,
and they are like,
its better than yours,
damn right its better than yours,
i can teach you,
but i have to charge!

This song is by Kelis , titled Milk Shake. Sweet. From the lyrics, it seems to be addressed to other females, some kind of female rivalry. Except this catchy phrase, this song is rather dull. I also happened to have watched its video, very lackluster too.

Baby Boy

Here's another top hit “Baby Boy” by a black woman Beyonce Knowles. As far as i know, hip-hop by black chicks are not as violent or howling as their beau. The lyrics of Baby Boy doesn't say much. It just has this memorable chant:

Baby boy you stay on my mind,
Fulfill my fantasy,
I think about you all the time,
I see you in my dreams. (see you in my dream)

Baby boy not a day goes by,
Without my fantasy,
I think about you all the time,
I see you in my dreams. (see you in my dream)
Beyonce Knowles - “Baby Boy” Beyonce, Dangerously in Love
Dangerously in Love
Beyonce, Dangerously in Love


Another song on the radio all the time, is named “P.I.M.P.” by 50 Cent. The song has a reggae beat. The song's about (a pimp) dealing with the pussy sex. The lyrics is spectacularly raw and i love it.

See: P.I.M.P. by 50 Cent.

American Heritage Dict defines hip-hop as: Slang n. 1. The popular street culture of big-city and especially inner-city youth, characterized by graffiti art, break dancing, and rap music.

One will note that this culture's diction and accent. The “g” in “ing” ending of what's called “present particle of verbs” by grammarians (intellectual morons) is dropped to be just “in”, “2” for “to”, “u” for “you”, “c” for “see”, “flo” for “floor”, and in general ending consonants are dropped.

To get some acquaintance with the cultural underdog sector in the gamut of human animal societies, see: