If Hip-Hop is dead...Master-P killed it

'Hip-Hop is dead', is a statement that has been repeated many times since I was a teen in the 90s. It may be most famously uttered on a track released by Nas 10 years after the death of fellow icon Tupac. I'm not claiming to be hip-hop coroner, so I'm not calling the time of death on my favorite homeboy; but I am posing the hypothesis: If hip-hop is dead, Master-P killed it. Why? Let's examine it more closely.

Arguably, Hip-Hop started in the streets of the South Bronx and Harlem from the block parties and DJ turn-tabling that grew in number and popularity until it exploded in the late 80s into a viable genre. We saw talent in the genre grow from DJ Kool Herc and Afrika Bambaataa to the stylings of Curtis Blow, Run DMC, and LL Kool J. The music electrified the minds and imagination of youth not only in the ghetto but the suburbs across the United States until it soon spread all over the world. Despite haters and detractors is cemented itself as a force in the music community that united kids of many different backgrounds, gave them a voice to speak their truth to the world, and generate a real revenue stream for all those who touched it. Poetry and pros expressed through rhyme told the stories of poverty, crime, despair, pain, and joy of those once considered less than. The Golden Age of the late 80s and 90s brought my generation some of the best party music we'll ever hear and expressed the frustration of those living among the crime ridden, gang-laiden streets of the east and west coasts. The good times couldn't last forever, though. As we moved into the late 90s and so-called gangsta rap began to replace the conscious voices of Common, Tribe Called Quest, LONS, KRS1 and others with the angry frustrated voices of Ice-Cube, NWA, etc.

The beginning of the end. As we trekked from conscious to gangsta, we all still enjoyed the artistry of markedly more violent acts and equally classic albums like Dr. Dre's The Chronic, Snoop Dogg's Doggystyle, UGK - Riding Dirty, and obviously Tupac's entire catalog. With the conclusion of Tupac's farewell effort Don Killuminati, a gaping hole was formed on the hip-hop scene and we all wondered what was next. Sadly, what arose to fill the Tupac void was a genre of rap pioneered by Master-P that I like to call 'Trap-boy' music. Trap-music was a mish-mosh of poorly articulated rhymes and harsh how-to songs of the corner dope-boy. Traditional A&R efforts to find good artists ceased to exist and the music scene soon became accessible mostly to the local drug dealer who had the expendable cash and free-time to lock down the studios and generate song after song of tracks in their image. Master-Ps No Limit Records brought us such classics as: Mr. Ice Cream Man, Bout it Bout it, Pussy Dreams, Going Out with a Blast, I Swore, and who could forget the 'make crack like this' classic, Ghetto-D. 

It's been 18years since Tupac died and Master P dropped Mr. Ice Cream Man. It laid the foundation for years and years of dope-boy music filled with sub-par lyrics. Since then, 'old-heads' like me have suffered through Gucci Mane, Waka Flaka, Soulja Boy, Roscoe Dash, OJ da Juice Man, and the like. Is it a wonder hip-hop sales are sagging and have been sagging for years. Hip-Hop might not be dead, but it is damn sure on life-support. Well, that's my take and you may disagree. I'm just the Average Black Man.