Earlier this year, Rick Ross put out a song called “B.M.F.,” named after Black Mafia Family, the infamous drug dealers. Young Jeezy, who was supposedly once a member of B.M.F. put out a song called “The Real B.M.F.,” featuring a hot 16 from incarcerated B.M.F. kingpin Big Meech, as mentioned in the chorus of the Rawse song. Rawse responded in part by enlisting Big Meech’s mother, who’s either broke, or attracted to fat men with beards (possibly both), and also by putting out an album people actually like. It didn’t sell well enough to beat Eminem’s Recovery, which had already been out for like a month and a half, but I suspect that that’s because Eminem has somehow managed to tap into the country music market, similar to what Nelly did with that album Suit, which was quite literally the only album anyone would ever buy back when I used to work at K-Mart. Suit had an country song on it. (It only took me like five years to forget how it goes, and I hope I don’t remember all of a sudden.) With Recovery, I suspect that it’s a matter of Eminem being white in a black-dominated industry, which I’m sure resonates with the teabaggers, and very simplistic themes, like the courage it takes to resist substance abuse, and the fact that you should try not to hit women. I never did get around to watching the video for “Love the Way You Lie,” or whatever it’s called, but I saw a few stills from it on a site where I go to obsessively collect pictures of Ashley Greene, and it looked like some shit I might have seen on CMT back when I was at East Bumblefuck State, out in Chicken Switch, MO, hot white chick and everything.
But I digress.
No one seemed to give a shit that Young Jeezy knows how to contact Big Meech in prison, and the only people Rick Ross knows how to contact in prison are the people who check underneath inmates’ ballsacks for contraband, his former colleagues, so Young Jeezy put out another version of “B.M.F.,” called “Death Before Dishonor (B.M.F. Freestyle).” In case it wasn’t clear before that Rick Ross, who’s not really a drug dealer (well, I’m sure he buys drugs, but that doesn’t count), is trying to make a name for himself by pretending to be a member of a group Young Jeezy was actually in, Jeezy makes it as plain as he possibly can, as if he had any choice in the matter. To wit: “How you blowin’ money fast? You don’t know the crew. Oh, you part of the fam? Shit, I never knew.” Aww dang… What’s next? A song called “I Really Did Used to Sell Drugs (Rick Ross Is a Cop)?” Or is that possible? It might not be, since Rawse and Young Jeezy are on the same record label, and this beef was probably orchestrated by the TIs. At they very least, it’s been tacitly condoned. If Young Jeezy is really so upset with Rick Ross, he should at least mention him by name.
I doubt it would make a difference, even if he did. It’s not like people don’t understand that Rawse is a fraud. What it comes down to is that Rawse makes good (by 2K10 standards) music. Simple logic would dictate that if Young Jeezy made music that was equally as good as Rawse’s music, then Young Jeezy would have the slight advantage over Rawse, since Young Jeezy really did sell drugs, which is something to look up to in the black community. Though I’m not sure how you’d go about determining that. I’m reminded of a question from my formspring about which one I’d rather get with, a bitchy white chick, or a chill black chick. Of course, it was impossible for me to say without knowing what these girls look like. If one of them looks significantly better than the other one, then I guess that’s the one I’ll be making sweet, passionate love to, and on. But what if they were equally as good-looking (like exactly), aside from race. As a firm believer in the possibility of quantifying a woman’s beauty, that doesn’t seem impossible to me. I’m just not sure what form it would take. We might not have the technology to find, say, the black equivalent of Zooey Deschanel, though I’m sure some chinaman is working on it. Maybe Young Jeezy could have him figure out how well he needs to rap to make people give a shit that he used to sell drugs.