“Hip hop isn’t as complex as a woman is.” ~~ Talib Kweli
Growing up, I hit my teenage years just as hip hop was taking over the airwaves. This music was like nothing we were familiar with and it permeated our every action. The dirty words, the bass, the hooks and the samples, THIS was the music that my parents HATED. Oh man, it was a perfect recipe for love. We bought the tapes and played our boombox as loud as the volume would go.
As I grew up, my conscience changed a bit and I found the love of TRUE hip hop, intricate in the lyricism and metaphors. This poetry spoke to my being and held me captive.
I might be white and fairly upper class but as a lost young woman, desperately trying to find myself, this music sang MY song. The pain, the emotions, the joy, the frustrations; I might not be able to completely relate but damn if I didn’t try.
Partying my way through my twenties, I still had my moments of guilty pleasure. I got high with Snoop, I drank 40’s of OE with Cube, I wore Cross Colors and cut my hair in a Stack.
And of course, I cried when both Pac and Biggie died.
Then, I calmed down, got clean, went on lockdown, came home and as you know by now, changed my entire life.
I found love and he opened my world to music that I had been sleeping on. As I grew, so did my taste in hip hop.
Change is truly worth it.
But please know that I still have those dirty words in me…..
I figure when I am a Granny, I will still sit around and nod by head to the one song that, for me, stands above them all.
“I grew up around hip-hop so I didn’t think it was about being cool or being black or being white or whatever.” ~~ Chad Hugo