Nothing to say, really, about all these
rappers weed carriers getting killed other than that you jigs need to cut that shit out. After all, if all the bag handlers get killed, who’s going to carry around all the pot? I’d consider “quitting” hip-hop, but it’s not likely I could find another job anyway. And I certainly couldn’t afford a “Zegna.” Maybe that was my problem in the first place.
Anyhoo, the strip club scene in Atlanta is, apparently, as they say in the Bay Area, off the hizzle for shizzle. In scenes not unlike the one that cost TI’s bag handler his life, jigs are throwing big stacks of money in the air just to show off. “Making it rain,” they call it. P Diddy is likely to walk in at any moment. Oh, and theres strippers. Hundreds of them.
I went to Atlanta once in high school when I was maybe 17. We played in a band competition at the Six Flags there (no John Stockton) and ended up beating the pants off the rest of those ghetto-ass non-playing bands. We actually stayed in a hotel downtown where all the strip clubs are, and nightly you could see jigs showing up to Magic City and what have you in their ridonkulous cars, but of course that was about as close as I got.
All of the strip clubs I’ve ever been to have been in the Midwest, primarily in podunk, mafia-run towns just East of St. Louis like Brooklyn, Illinois (Brooklyn stand up!) and Sauget, Illinois – the same town where I saw Ghostface on his most recent tour. As far as strip clubs go, I’d imagine they’re fairly mediocre. I know one of the black clubs, a place called the Pink Slip, at one point had a chick with one arm working there.
Shorty had a hellafied ass though. That’s all the brothers really care about.
From what I understand, there might even be a hip-hop industry night either at the Pink Slip or at a place called the Soft Touch on Monday or Tuesday nights; but then the idea of a hip-hop industry night in St. Louis always struck me as rather asinine. I can’t imagine that I’d show up on either night and not be one of the most important “industry” figures in the place, and I don’t need to talk to any rappers.
Hip-hop industry night’s in Atlanta though, according to a recent article in the Los Angeles Times are the place to be if you want to get “on,” as they say on the Internets. Monday night at Magic City is known as “Magic Monday,” while Tuesday night at a place called Strokers is known as “Looking for a Hit” night. Aspiring rappers show up with their latest demos and pay the DJs some ridonkulous sum to play their joint for all the industry heads in attendance. If they’re lucky, maybe they’ll become the next Dem Franchize Boyz.
Seriously, it’s no wonder so much Atlanta hip-hop sucks balls these days. Just because something works in a strip club doesn’t mean it should be played on the radio. Also, I’m not sure if I buy into the whole “that’s what the strippers like to dance to” argument. It would seem to me that if you’re the one paying, they should like whatever it is you like. If I had a strip club, it would play nothing but the King Geedorah album and Separation Sunday by the Hold Steady. Shit!
Here’s how the LA Times described the aforementioned “making it rain”:
From time to time, patrons flung plumes of cash toward the rafters, letting the dollar bills flutter where they may — a ritual known as “making it rain.” It began as a flashy way for big-timers to tip the dancers, but it has evolved into a thing unto itself — a raw display of wealth and power. In Atlanta, the presence of two or three major rap stars in one club can lead to a rainmaking competition, and leave thousands of dollars on the floor.
Insane. No wonder these ass-clowns are getting shot.
- Naked Hip-Hop Ambition [Los Angeles Times]