Let’s suspend the format for a second, shall we? Rap, maybe you got nothing to relate to there. I get it. What people can connect to is when you humanize the story. Let’s tell the story.
Maybe you hate the raps. Maybe the picture above, two tattoed African American Kids, there’s not much you can relate to. Stick with me. There’s a story.
Aaquil Iben Shamon Brown (also known as Slim Jxmmi) and his little brother Khalif Malik Ibn Shamon Brown, were born to a Mom and Dad. Mom was in the Army, Dad left the family a few years after they were born. They moved as Army families tend to do from state to state. During their formative years they found themselves at Fort Hood as in Texas. For those in the know, that lies along 35, the artery between Dallas and Austin. threaded through Texas like a snake who has his shit together…straight up from Mexico to Oklahoma and beyond. More commerce is moved along that route to include drugs and human trafficking than you can imagine.
At some time, the Army life ended for Mom, Bernadette Walker, and she found a man, another man. That man happened to be Floyd Sullivan, a rough world-weary man, who called Tupelo, Mississippi home. Yeah, that’s the same Tupelo tied to Elvis, as in Presley which has more songs written about it than Texas. Okay that’s a reverse Texas Tall Tale and might not be the entirely true. But the great Emmylou Harris did write a song about the Boy from Tupelo and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t written about Swae Lee. So this wasn’t the neighborhood that the boys from Rae Sremmurd moved into, nope it was the hood, the notorious Ida Street housing projects.
We can look at success stories and in our normal everyday lives… say why them? Chances are the path to get their those success stories paid their dues. Swae Lee and brother Slim Jxmmi got kicked out of their house after Mom and drug dealer Step-Dad split up. The brothers were on the streets, homeless. They squatted in one of their Step-Dad’s friend’s abandoned houses and made the most of the situation throwing get together’s over the weekend where their music was featured. The gained traction that way, working the hustle, on their own, teenagers, surviving.
Somewhere along the way, they made their way to Georgia and got supported by a record company called Ear Drummers, and came up with a name, Ear Drummers backwards, Rae Sremmurd. These kids are talented. You may not care for their lyrics, their music, the format of rap…but at it’s heart, you gotta respect their story. It’s a version of the American Dream, pulling yourself up by the bootstraps to success. Keep working the hustle until you have hustled the hustle. You may think the American Dream is flawed and don’t get the talent behind their music, but at it’s heart, respect the story. Rae Sremmurd, the Black Beatles.
Getting so cold I’m not blinking.
What in the world was I thinking?
New day, new money to be made.
There is nothing to explain.
I’m a black Beatle, cream seats in the Regal,
Rockin John Lennon lenses like to see ’em spread eagle.
She think she love me
I think she trolling.
That girl is a real crowd pleaser.
Small world, all her friends know me.
Young bull livin’ like an old geezer.
Release the cash, watch it fall slowly.
Frat girls still trying to get even.
Haters mad for whatever reason.
Smoke in the air, binge drinking.
They lose it when the DJ drops the needle.