I see no coincidences in the rise of Rick Ross through seizures and a lawsuit from the original, CIA-associated ("Freeway") Ricky Ross, as I saw none in Jay-Z's invocation of Frank Lucas for his tenth album. What is undeniable is Ross' ability to orchestrate in these contradictory times.
Or·ches·trate / Verb: 1) Arrange or score (music) for orchestral performance. 2) Arrange or direct the elements of (a situation) to produce a desired effect, esp. surreptitiously.
Info: "Going cinematic comes easy when your life's a movie, and since Rick Ross' previous 12 months included platinum albums, numerous awards, and some pre-gig CPR and resuscitation on an airport runway, it seemed sensible that the Miami rap superstar cited Scorsese and Tarantino as influences for God Forgives, I Don't. [...] All of it works, there's plenty of ambition with little over-reaching, and the most striking bits of the album are striking for unexpected reasons." (source)
"Cut the noose off my neck, black runaway slave / In the coupe with the tec, it's the home of the brave / They wanna know names, they toting on thangs / Never wanted the fame, just wanted the Range / I needed some change, mama needed a raise / She stayed in a rage, hated minimum wage / I'm feeling the same, all these criminals paid / Wearing Bally's and gold, I'm selling dope shameless to say / And maybe one day I could put this pain away"
"But no Jesus piece on mine, cause at times I feel ashamed / For the reason that I rhyme / And they say, because I'm Muslim I shouldn't think about the shine / Or even put it in a rhyme / It's better things I could talk about or put my money towards / But for now, I'mma wear these ten chains and floss"
-Ten Jesus Pieces (Stalley's verse)
"Summer '88, or was it '89 / Or was it winter-time, ah, nevermind / I'm in my room, booming / Drawin' LL Cool J album covers with Crayolas on construction paper / I'm trying to fuck my neighbor, I'm tryna hook my waves up / I'm tryna pull my grades up, to get them saddle lace ups / Before lil' Marc was Jacob, before them girls wore makeup / Before my voice would break up, before we'd tour them shake clubs / Before my mama wake up, before my crumbs would cake up / Before they tell me they love me and we'll never break up / Before the time she makes love to someone that I thought was my homeboy / But boy, was I wrong, now / I don't budge, don't want much, just a roof and a porch / And a Porsche, and a horse and unfortunately / But of course an assortment of torches that scorches the skin, when they enter / Intruders, whose tutors did a lousy job / How's he God if he lets Lucifer let loose on us? / That noose on us won't loosen up, but loose enough to juice us up / Make us think we do so much and do it big / Like they don't let us win, I can't pretend / But I do admit, it feel good when the hood pseudo-celebrate/ Hence, why every time we dine we eat until our belly aches / Then go grab the finest wine and drink it / Like we know which grape and which region it came from / As if we can name 'em, hint hint, it ain't, um, Welch's / Hell just fell three thousand more degrees cooler / Ya'll can't measure my worth / But when you try, you'll need a ruler made by all the Greek gods / Because the odds have always been stacked against me when back's against the wall / I feel right at home, y'all sitting right at home / All Kelly green with envy while I'm jelly beans descending / Into the palm of a child, looks up at mama and smile / With such a devilish grin, like "where the hell have you been" / She yelling that selling’s a sin, well so is telling young men/ That selling is a sin, if you don’t offer new ways to win / A dolphin gon shake his fin, regardless if he gets in / Or out of water, most important thing for him is to swim / And Flipper didn’t hold his nose, so why shall I hold my tongue? / (I miss the days of old when one could hold his gal on his arm) / And I set off these alarms, when camera’s snap snap snap snap / Return fire, pa-pa-pa, pa, pa-pa, pa, pa, pa / They’ll learn why, mere privacy, so essential / They won't make no laws, I break their laws til they see out our window / I take the fall to make them all treat human kind more gentle / Forsake them all, I hate them all, don’t like em, don’t pretend to / Yea something tells me we ain’t in Kansas anymore / All that shit that used to be cool ain’t cool anymore / All the women we were pursuing, now they want more / And they deserve it all, don’t settle for what ain’t yours / Does your mama know you see me, does she know you're freaky? / Does she ever wonder if it's 'bout ya I am speaking? / Do you ever ponder where I'm at when you get sleepy? / How the hell I'm gonna tell the youth don't be me? / Yea / Does your daddy think you perfect, does he know for certain? / Does he know how you act when you pull back all them curtains? / Do he think I'm 2Pac cause I'm black and put the words in? / Does he know his daughter might have caught a real merman?"
-Sixteen (Andrew 3000's verse)
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