50 Cent & Rick Ross: Giving Season
It’s not for Killaz, just Hundred Dollar Billaz.
As this magnificently unavoidable 50 Cent vs. Rick Ross spat gets super-uglier by the Clear Channel radio shift, I can’t help but ponder the true battery in the back of this now full-blown media circus. Anyone who’s paid attention to hip-hop over the past forever should be intelligent enough to know that this shit is generally pro-wrestling.
[Blogger’s Note: Unfortunately, at times the script takes on a life of its own at the hands of overanxious and delusional fans.]
From the onset of the dispute, which apparently begins with Rawse speaking loosely about Fitty’s potential Left Eye situation at the crib, the critical thinker should be left to ponder a few things. First, why would a nigga with Ricky’s bedazzling good looks and impeccably thorough track record be taking shots at anyone after notching the #1 All-Time Smoking Gun Moment in Hip-Hop History? (TSG didn’t cover Chi-Ali, did they?) Second, why bring up the one thing 50 Cent would be least likely to joke about? Finally, of all the excitable niggas in wide wide world of rap entertainment, why attack the one nigga who openly loves the medium of battle more than anything else?
50 Cent has built and sustained his career on lampooning his enemies on record. Goading Marlo Stanfield in this scenario makes little sense for a weakened cocaine kingpin, right?
Answer: Both niggas need this.
In a failing record industry, Ross and 50 likely may have signed off on their own bailout plans. While Ross still makes a fair amount of noise with his singles, C.O. of the Century has suffered too great a blow to his image and reputation to proceed as per usual when album time comes. 50 Cent, on the other hand, hasn’t had a single worth a squirrel fart in a while. He’s been trying to bait Lil’ Wayne into the proverbial black van since Dedication 3. Of course a Rick Ross prodding is like an unexpected half-a-hundred mysteriously showing up in your commissary at Sing Sing.
We’s havin’ hot bologna and cheese tonight, my nigga. It’s Chef Boyardee-block.
I wouldn’t go as far as to say they’re sharing a blunt and brainstorming marketing schemes at Mike Tyson’s house, but don’t be fooled into thinking this isn’t very much a mutually-beneficial situation for both artists. When Ross can suggest that he endorsed his baby mama Tia’s pawn and pwnage in 50 Cent’s latest vlog (and potentially sex tape), the situation begins to reek of a mutual flop insurance policy.
That’s right. Floppenheimer Funds, nigga.
For those who suggest that such a move may be inadvertent career suicide for Rawse a la Ja Rule’s ouster from relevance and memory, know that Rule wasn’t beaten into submission by 50’s incessant torment alone. He also failed to deliver quality music. Dare I say he was targeted because he didn’t make the caliber of music he once did. The Murder Incwell [hey, nowww] had already run dry, resorting to publicity stunts such as Bobby & Whitney cameos a fake Nas signing to promote a remix that no one cared about.
[Blogger’s Note: I pledge to always give you bitches the best of me.]
In Officer Ricky’s case, his best [fraudulent] work may still be ahead. If this holds true–as likely evidenced by his new banger with John Legends–all that’s occurred is an expansion of stage and scope for both artists. If neither can deliver with a quality product, this whole shit show has been for naught.
–Except for the mink coronation and the sex tape. That shit will still be funny.
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