Go to the club, and peep what they’re playin. It isn’t what it should be, but learn it anyways. Study it until any knowledge you might have kicked is replaced by immediate and spontaneous urges to bling bling, drop it like its hot, and make it rain. Learn the music until your vocal chords become auto tuned synthesizer’s, until your voice slows to a syruped drawl and every few words you say have their suffix replaced by all manners of -eezy’s and –izzle’s. When your thoughts slow to 80 bpm and you can no longer recall anything you learned before high school, you will know that you are ready to rap.
Next, sign up for youtube, or twitter, or at the very least myspace because the internet is the fastest way to the streets these days. Go on hiphop.com message boards and see what the real thugs think. Make your first single about how the paparazzi won’t leave you alone, or how when you go to the club you buy the bar, and film the video for it at your school where your buzz is strongest. Ask that cute girl from your Womens Studies class to play the video whore. Have that kid from last year’s Economics of Poverty class park his benz near the sidewalk and lean against it like you’re the owner. Don’t use any words you might have learned in college, and speak in any way that isn’t natural to you. If you’re from the Bay, speak like you’re from the South. If you’re from the South, speak like you’re from the Bay. Never speak like you’re from New York unless you’re OK with being underground. Include gimmicks local to your area (see: stunner shades, thizz face, and hyphy movement) and go spend all your money at the club that night because the shit is sure to be a radio classic soon.
When you start doing shows, tell the crowd to peep you’re freestyles and recite those verses you wrote freshmen year. Make your eyes move around to imply that you’re deep in thought and surely coming off the top of the head. Attend radio shows and recite your writtens but have the DJ say it’s a freestyle. Learn a bunch of adlibs about money, forget that you’re people don’t have any, and spend at least as much as you make on your self. It’s not important what you buy.
Strive to understand nothing. Don’t read your record deal. Smoke weed and pop pills and get sponsored by company’s that kill people. Buy diamonds from Sierra Leone and pat yourself on the back for giving your business to the starving kids in Africa. Don’t ever go to Africa. Rap about Africa, make your second album cover Red Black and Green and ask your publicist to remake you conscious. Spit common knowledge but dress like Common does. Buy more kangols. Use your new image to do Gap commercials and see nothing wrong with the contradiction. When internet buzz turns against you and this latest gimmick comes under fire, catch a gun charge or a drug habit or just claim you’re now too ahead of your time to be understood.
Remember, you must die by age 26 to be great, and if you want to be remembered die no later then 40. Rap about the government following you daily because the knowledge you drop is threatening their empire. Only ever rap about dropping knowledge; do not, under any circumstances, ever drop any. This is very important.
Every time you drop an album spend less time writing and more money on production. Hire ghost writers by your third release. Rent out illusions of wealth and say fuck my credit and my kids. Ride the trends of the time. Make sure your only conviction is money over bitches, money over mamas, money over everything, and if smart ever does become bankable, remember, you must unlearn everything that has gotten you into the game up to that point, and quickly jump on the dick of intelligence.
Next, sign up for youtube, or twitter, or at the very least myspace because the internet is the fastest way to the streets these days. Go on hiphop.com message boards and see what the real thugs think. Make your first single about how the paparazzi won’t leave you alone, or how when you go to the club you buy the bar, and film the video for it at your school where your buzz is strongest. Ask that cute girl from your Womens Studies class to play the video whore. Have that kid from last year’s Economics of Poverty class park his benz near the sidewalk and lean against it like you’re the owner. Don’t use any words you might have learned in college, and speak in any way that isn’t natural to you. If you’re from the Bay, speak like you’re from the South. If you’re from the South, speak like you’re from the Bay. Never speak like you’re from New York unless you’re OK with being underground. Include gimmicks local to your area (see: stunner shades, thizz face, and hyphy movement) and go spend all your money at the club that night because the shit is sure to be a radio classic soon.
When you start doing shows, tell the crowd to peep you’re freestyles and recite those verses you wrote freshmen year. Make your eyes move around to imply that you’re deep in thought and surely coming off the top of the head. Attend radio shows and recite your writtens but have the DJ say it’s a freestyle. Learn a bunch of adlibs about money, forget that you’re people don’t have any, and spend at least as much as you make on your self. It’s not important what you buy.
Strive to understand nothing. Don’t read your record deal. Smoke weed and pop pills and get sponsored by company’s that kill people. Buy diamonds from Sierra Leone and pat yourself on the back for giving your business to the starving kids in Africa. Don’t ever go to Africa. Rap about Africa, make your second album cover Red Black and Green and ask your publicist to remake you conscious. Spit common knowledge but dress like Common does. Buy more kangols. Use your new image to do Gap commercials and see nothing wrong with the contradiction. When internet buzz turns against you and this latest gimmick comes under fire, catch a gun charge or a drug habit or just claim you’re now too ahead of your time to be understood.
Remember, you must die by age 26 to be great, and if you want to be remembered die no later then 40. Rap about the government following you daily because the knowledge you drop is threatening their empire. Only ever rap about dropping knowledge; do not, under any circumstances, ever drop any. This is very important.
Every time you drop an album spend less time writing and more money on production. Hire ghost writers by your third release. Rent out illusions of wealth and say fuck my credit and my kids. Ride the trends of the time. Make sure your only conviction is money over bitches, money over mamas, money over everything, and if smart ever does become bankable, remember, you must unlearn everything that has gotten you into the game up to that point, and quickly jump on the dick of intelligence.