SOUL SURVIVOR

Somewhere between 36 Chambers and right now, rap became infected. The majority of it went from a great place to go after punk lost its edge to a fucking Sambo jamboree. When you see Jermaine Dupri fall out of the sky and land into a gaggle of bikini-clad models and say “uh ooooh” with his Donald Duck shirt and his bottle of Crystal you are looking at a 2001 version of Stepin Fetchit. Sure, a few rappers get paid so it’s not quite as bad as 1942, but what is their message?

“Make the most derivate beats you can, have someone write your rhymes (as P Diddy says, “Don’t worry if I write rhymes/ I write checks”) and then buy tons of expensive shit. All you have to do is bug out your eyes to entertain the white folks or act all hard then buy, buy, buy.”

Last month we featured an independently wealthy rapper (maybe he made his money in stocks?) who doesn’t rap, DJ, write, mix, produce, or do anything but fund the albums—nice.

What happened to the Wu Tang Clan anyway? After the first album they either released shit so bad it bankrupted the label or they became movie stars whose sole gimmick was that they “like a fat blunt.” Even Rae fell off after the first solo.

In the center of this quagmire of bullshit there is one rapper that has been doing it right since he was one of the nine members that put out Enter the Wu Tang Clan (36 Chambers). Not only has Ghostface Killah consistently made innovative and fresh albums that nobody has ever heard before, he’s done it with style and balls that the industry can’t wrap their minds around. Ironman was one of maybe two albums that we put on our cover. The Source’s rating for his next album Supreme Clientele was a cunt hair away from being called a classic. He took the very best of the Wu (RZA’s soul samples, Rae and ODB’s crazy rhymes) and he pushed it somewhere nobody thought it could go. While everyone in New York was thugging out, Ghost was lying on the floor crying about his Mama (check the track on Ghost’s new album where he nails Jay Z for biting his sentimental shit and calls Z on his “King of New York” bullshit).

Now Bulletproof Wallets is here and it’s about to become the most bitten sound in the history of rap. Rappers are starving for some inspiration and he’s the only one with a full plate. But, no matter how many people try to rip him off, Ghost will always be one step ahead.

VICE: Why aren’t you getting paid? Everyone is ripping you off and they’re getting rich.

Ghostface: I used to get mad at these motherfuckers, but we the niggas. Everything needs something to feed off of so they take that. The worst part is every motherfucker that bite blow up bigger than the nigga that created the shit. I’m not a biter but, if I gotta, I reverse it. I’ll say “Oh, OK. Some niggas doin’ dance tracks. I’ll take that dance track and do it way better and make it Ghostface shit.”

“Cherchez la Ghost” was the only hip hop dance track I ever heard that wasn’t wack.

Yes, it’s cuz I can take anything. I see music so deep that it’d be hard to explain.

What kind of hip hop are you into these days?

No niggas is really making noise right now. I mean, niggas is aight but I ain’t into nobody like that. Niggas battin’ averages is on some low shit right now.

Are you going to kill all these shitty rappers that bite your shit?

But they know where they got it from. It’s like we said yesterday: “We the piece that attracts.” When they see the truth they going to go ahead and try to go in that direction. It could be subconsciously or whatever. I can’t get mad at that no more.

So everyone knows the source.

Like they say, “A wise man is one that leaves his footprint and keeps on going.” Like dinosaurs. Leave your mark. When someone bites you their immortalizin’ your work whether they know it or not.

You’re going to have to die to get paid.

That’s what they say: “Dead rappers get the best promotion.” Niggas blow you up after you dead. So when we long gone from this shit here niggas are going to be “Yo! Them niggas was The Temptations. They was the shit!” then you’re going to see your points come out from nowhere. But while we’re here livin’ it like that—you can’t really see it. Unless you really recognizing your power.

Maybe you should fake your death.

That’s what I’m saying. It’s crazy. Right now I’m crying, you know what I mean? It ain’t nothing to smile about. That’s how come you can feel me so much when I say my shit on these records. I want you to fuck the parents. Fuck everything and just feel what’s inside.

KYLE STRACHAN

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