i've seen parts of it before but i never saw the whole thing i thought it was a good read its from like 2003 im guessing since he says something about givin jay a beat for the black album... he talks about the gangstarr sound and working wit rappers like jay nas big etc, coaching mc's, and his fav moments...
Define the role of a producer.
You don’t just make the music; you shape everything. You arrange, and you coach the vocalist. Even when I work with Biggie and Jay-Z, I can sit there and get on the talk-back switch and say, "Yo, you gotta fix that line right there. It’s a little shaky." Because I’m listening to everything. Even though they’re laying it down and hearing it through the headphones, I’m hearing it through the speakers. And listening through the headphones is a lot different than listening through the speakers ’cause it’s a whole different take on the output. So, again, it’s not just taking a track and laying it down. You have to know how to coach, and you have to have an ear. And the arrangement: when to drop the music, putting a scratch here, saying the chorus is gonna go here instead of a standard vocal chorus.
When have you broken away from the standard chorus format?
"Rite Where You Stand" [by Gang Starr] is a good example. We did a hook. And after Jadakiss’s verse we didn’t go into the hook; it went into another breakdown, which is called a bridge. And the bridge is going, "Your gangsta’s cosmetic" and all that shit, but that’s breaking down a different section. Then it starts going into the scratching. Then it goes back into [Guru’s] verse. So I wanted to not do the same ol’ pattern, which is always the chorus, or what they call the hook, then the lyrics, then the hook. Everybody follows that same pattern usually, because that’s how the radio and people who listen to radio are programmed. I like to go the total opposite way.
When you’re coaching an emcee in the vocal booth, do you hesitate to give criticism? Does someone like Jay-Z want to be coached?
Jay usually fights and says, "Yo, it’s good like it is." But if I’m adamant about it, he’ll go back in and fix it. But usually he’s one of those that likes to say, "I got it the first time." He likes to get it in one take. It’s all gravy. As long as it’s able to be lived with once we leave the studio, then it’s good. But if I have to fight about it, I’ma fight about it. Most emcees let me do me, and they follow what I ask them to do.
What is the significance of being a DJ as well as a producer?
When you’re a DJ, you have it extra good because we play the records that are finally cut in the studio and take it to that next level of making sure they get played all over the world. So, to have that special additive added to production skills—and actually, I was a DJ first before I was a producer— it makes it a lot better. I’m pretty much able to shape [the record] for a DJ. I like to make records that’ll make the DJ cut up the beginning. Like when Big L passed, I put the "Big L, rest in peace" [on "Full Clip"] purposely because I wanted DJs to cut up the beginning before the beat dropped. If you listen, a lot of my records have a strong beginning, the way everything kicks in. Those are elements I base on how I would want to start the record over if I was cutting it up.
Who was the first producer who influenced you?
Marley Marl. He had an offbeat scratch style, and his beats were so ahead of everybody else’s funk. Like, I was wondering how he got his kicks and snares to sound like the old records that came from the ’70s and the disco era—’76, ’77, ’78. He his own drum sound. And I could tell he was sampling. But where’s he getting it from? And then once I started seeing he was actually grabbing a single snare and an actual kick and taking that to create a new pattern, and then putting music over it, I was just blown away. I totally emulated and copied his style, but I didn’t bite it where I totally ripped him off. It’s like borrowing the idea that he taught that I liked, and then taking that idea and converting into my style of idea, based on his influence. And the way he always scratched the hook, I was like, Yo, I want to do that too.
Did you connect with him early on?
Oh, yeah. I met him when "Words I Manifest" came along. When "Words I Manifest" came out, Marley Marl was the first one who played it. And that was our dream. Seeing Marley Marl and Red Alert play it. Chuck Chillout, Awesome 2 and all of ’em. And running into Rakim back then, and him saying, "Yo, I love your album." And EPMD saying the same thing. That’s all we wanted. We wanted to make money, too, but we knew that was going to be a slow process. So to get their recognition, that’s all I wanted. And now it’s now even about that [respect from proven veterans] with all these new cats, but we stick to that tradition of how we do these things.
How do you feel about your style, most notably the scratch-hook technique, being copied by other producers?
Anybody who copies what I do, I give it up, because that means that they’re studying me and what I’ve done. And it’s gonna go to a stage where other people learn from it and take it to another level. The main thing is to just be different. People know who the originators are, and I’m one of those cats.
How do you approach production for a Gang Starr album versus a one-off track for another artist’s LP?
Any emcee that works with us, from Jay to Nas to Big—rest in peace to Big—they’re getting a piece of the Gang Starr sound, ’cause we established our own sound through my beats and [Guru’s] lyrics. And people want to get a piece of that, so we share it with anybody as long as they spit that fire. Even though I have a certain similarity to my tracks, it’s tailored to whatever emcee’s voice. There’s certain tracks that I’ve done that I couldn’t hear Guru’s voice over, and there’s Gang Starr tracks that I couldn’t hear other artists rhyme over. I tailor my beats for their artists.
Much was made about the Rakim tracks you submitted for his since-abandoned Aftermath LP being turned down. Was that Dre or Rakim who wasn’t feeling them?
Rak loved them all. And I talked to Dre, and he said it wasn’t him directly. He said other people on his staff were critiquing them before they got to him. And now Rakim just left Aftermath. We recently talked and said we’re gonna do this [Rakim album] the old way. Get Large Professor, get Pete Rock, get Showbiz… just that East Coast funk. So we’re gonna pop his album off lovely. We got M.O.P. writing with him now. It’ll be done our way.
Besides Guru, do you have a favourite emcee to work with?
I liked working with Royce Da 5’9". He’s dope. It’s fun working with Big ’cause he always kept the sessions funny. Who else? Freddie Foxxx. Inspectah Deck was dope when we did "Above the Clouds." Jay-Z’s real quick and easy—in and out.
Have you done your track for Jay-Z’s The Black Album yet?
I already gave it to him. He just called me yesterday and said, "Yo, I love it." He’s on the road right now. I’m doing two. I’m doing the intro to the album and another track [Ed. Note: both premo tracks failed to make the Black Album]. The intro I did, I was hoping I was on the right track, ’cause it’s very different. It’s real funky. He called me yesterday and was like, "Yo, I want you to cut this [sample on the intro]." Jay will tell me what to cut. So will Guru. Even though he doesn’t DJ, he’s like, "Yo, I heard this song you could use." And that makes Guru more of a b-boy, ’cause he hears scratches in his head just like I do.
Describe one of your more memorable recording sessions.
With Nas, when we did "N.Y. State of Mind," at the beginning when he says, "Straight out the dungeons of rap/ Where fake niggas don’t make it back." Then you hear him say, "I don’t know how to start this shit," ’cause he had just written it. He’s got the beat running in the studio, but he doesn’t know how he’s going to format how he’s going to convey it. So he’s going, "I don’t know how to start this shit," and I’m counting him in [to begin his verse]. One, two, three. And then you can hear him go, "Yo," and then he goes right into it. He didn’t know how he was gonna come in, but he just started going because we were recording. I’m actually yelling, "We’re recording!" and banging on the [vocal booth] window. "Come on, get ready." You hear him start the shit: “Rappers…” And then everyone in the studio was like, "Oh, my God," ’cause it was so unexpected. He was not ready. So we used that first verse. And that was when he was up and coming, his first album. So we was like, Yo, this guy is gonna be big.
What about Biggie?
We had very, very, very bugged-out sessions, on all levels. I can remember when we was working on "Unbelievable" and we had a back lounge in each studio room. The room I work out of, Studio B up at D&D, there’s a back-room lounge with an old couch, and Big would go there and lay down. I went to go let him know that I pretty much had the track structured so he could listen to it, and when I walked in there, he’s in there with two girls and they’re both giving him a blow job at the same time. Biggie had his clothes off—big, fat and nasty. And he didn’t care, either. He wasn’t like, "Oh, let me cover up. You walked in on me naked."
Biggie opened up for us when we did a show at Virginia State: It was me and Jeru the Damaja, Pete Rock. And we woke up early that morning to knock on Biggie’s room to see if he’s gonna follow us back to New York. And I knock on his door, and he opens the door buck-naked in his boxer drawers with a bucket of chicken. And Jeru says, "Yo, you need to stop eatin’ all of that meat, man. You need to go vegetarian." Big was like, "Yo, my name is Biggie, not Barkim." Barkim is like a God name for people who don’t eat flesh and stuff like that. So it’s funny to see Big there topless, big ol’ titties hanging out, and no shame.
How do you approach a remix as opposed to an original composition?
The only difference is, you already have the vocals pre-laid. Making an original song is more difficult because you’re starting with no ideas and you’re building ideas. With a remix, I have all the elements, and all I’m doing is a different version of that song—more of a gutter version, a b-boy, hip-hop version. They’re more fun to do because you can do so many different combinations of beats. You already have the tempo, so you already know what you have to lock in on, and boom—it’s down. I just did a Mary J. Blige remix. She used "So Ghetto" from the Jay-Z record, but she redid her vocals and did different vocals to that beat instead of taking the original vocals for "Love at First Sight," which used the "Hot Sex on a Platter" beat with Meth. She re-sang the entire thing, and now she’s supposed to get Jay-Z to spit on it, or Jadakiss.
What challenges do you put on yourself, as a producer?
I like to force myself to keep changing and do another style and showing that I can bang billions of tracks out. Some people get to a certain degree and they just burn out, or their style burns out. We always reinvent. That’s the fun part, sitting there going, "Ah, damn, that sounds too much like the other one." When we’re doing albums, I’m like, "Yo, this sounds dope, but it sounds too much like the rhythmic pattern of this one I did." And Guru’s like, "Are you sure?" And I’m like, "Yeah, it’s gonna bother me." So we’ll redo it, or save it for something else or recreate another track. I don’t want all the patterns of the way I chop my samples to have the dance, so to speak, of another record I have.
You’re known for spitting little rants on the Gang Starr albums, tackling subjects that bother you about the industry. Have you ever been tempted to rap?
No. I do it bugging out on the tour bus, freestyling, but I would never make a record rhyming.
Now that D&D in Manhattan has closed, where are you working?
Everywhere. It’s been a big hassle. But we just took it over, so it’ll be back open in about a month. Same location, new name. Now it belongs to us—me and some other partners. It’s called Headqcourterz. You have to spell it right because my man just passed away. Rest in peace, Headqcourterz. We love you, baby. We miss you. And this studio’s gonna live on through your name.
Which contemporary hip-hop producers inspire you?
I like Alchemist. I like DJ Scratch, formerly of EPMD. I like Havoc of Mobb Deep; I think he’s very underrated, doing all the Mobb Deep albums. Some of Just Blaze’s stuff is cool—he’s doing the singing-fast, 45 R&B thing.
Do you create music when you get inspired or only when there’s a project to be done?
Only when something has to be done. It’s time-consuming to sit there and create a track. So I definitely, definitely only do that when something has to be done. I think that makes it more spontaneous, and on top of that, I always come on and make the beat right off the head. A lot of producers have tracks on a disc, like 20-30 tracks. I ain’t got time to sit there and do that many tracks. When you make ’em straight off the head, you know it’s just freshly made. It’s like making a fresh batch of cookies. You can’t wait for them to cool off so you can eat ’em.
How long does it take to make a track?
It could be an hour, it could be 15 minutes, it could be a week. I can just tell when it’s ready. Sometimes I start with the sample first, sometimes the drums. It doesn’t matter.
Do you remember your first beat?
I used a Chi-Lites sample. I had an SP12, not an SP1200. You had to have a big, giant floppy disk, and you had to wait almost 10 minutes for it to save all the data. It was ill. I still have a tape of all those beats. I found my demo. This is probably 1985. I just kept toying with it until I felt I understood what I was doing. I knew what I wanted to sample, and then boom—went straight to it. Got better and better, kept sharpening up my skills.
Do you have plans for a DJ Premier producer-based LP, in the vein of Hi-Tek and Da Beatminerz?
I’m in the process of doing one [label negotiations pending], and I’m about to release the Group Home instrumental album [on my own label, Year Round], with all the beats from that album. A lot of people have looped them and put out DJ Premier instrumental bullshit. I’ve never put out an instrumental record in my life. All that stuff is bogus; I did none of that. The loops are not even tight.
Have you ever made a track for someone and they turned it down, only to have another emcee scoop it up?
Oh, yeah. Jadakiss turned down the track Bumpy Knuckles used called "PAINE." Jadakiss said, "That’s not the right vibe"; Bumpy said, "I’ll take it." Jay-Z didn’t like the beat for "Goldyn Child," by Ras Kass. I made that for Jay, he didn’t like it. I played it for Ras Kass, and he was like, "That’s it." "Ten Crack Commandments" was really a promo for Angie Martinez’s show on HOT97 called "The Hot 5 at 9." She would play the top five songs at nine o’clock, so that’s why I scratched [Chuck D’s voice]: One, two, three, four, five. And then, six, seven, eight, nine at the end, to make sure people got it: Hot 5 at 9. Biggie and Puff heard that promo ’cause they was at the radio that day and were like, "Who did that promo?" The [radio station] was like, "Premier did it." Biggie and Puff were like, "That’s crazy! We want to do a song to that."
Anything else you want to add?
Stay original. Real hip-hop lives, all day, every day
Define the role of a producer.
You don’t just make the music; you shape everything. You arrange, and you coach the vocalist. Even when I work with Biggie and Jay-Z, I can sit there and get on the talk-back switch and say, "Yo, you gotta fix that line right there. It’s a little shaky." Because I’m listening to everything. Even though they’re laying it down and hearing it through the headphones, I’m hearing it through the speakers. And listening through the headphones is a lot different than listening through the speakers ’cause it’s a whole different take on the output. So, again, it’s not just taking a track and laying it down. You have to know how to coach, and you have to have an ear. And the arrangement: when to drop the music, putting a scratch here, saying the chorus is gonna go here instead of a standard vocal chorus.
When have you broken away from the standard chorus format?
"Rite Where You Stand" [by Gang Starr] is a good example. We did a hook. And after Jadakiss’s verse we didn’t go into the hook; it went into another breakdown, which is called a bridge. And the bridge is going, "Your gangsta’s cosmetic" and all that shit, but that’s breaking down a different section. Then it starts going into the scratching. Then it goes back into [Guru’s] verse. So I wanted to not do the same ol’ pattern, which is always the chorus, or what they call the hook, then the lyrics, then the hook. Everybody follows that same pattern usually, because that’s how the radio and people who listen to radio are programmed. I like to go the total opposite way.
When you’re coaching an emcee in the vocal booth, do you hesitate to give criticism? Does someone like Jay-Z want to be coached?
Jay usually fights and says, "Yo, it’s good like it is." But if I’m adamant about it, he’ll go back in and fix it. But usually he’s one of those that likes to say, "I got it the first time." He likes to get it in one take. It’s all gravy. As long as it’s able to be lived with once we leave the studio, then it’s good. But if I have to fight about it, I’ma fight about it. Most emcees let me do me, and they follow what I ask them to do.
What is the significance of being a DJ as well as a producer?
When you’re a DJ, you have it extra good because we play the records that are finally cut in the studio and take it to that next level of making sure they get played all over the world. So, to have that special additive added to production skills—and actually, I was a DJ first before I was a producer— it makes it a lot better. I’m pretty much able to shape [the record] for a DJ. I like to make records that’ll make the DJ cut up the beginning. Like when Big L passed, I put the "Big L, rest in peace" [on "Full Clip"] purposely because I wanted DJs to cut up the beginning before the beat dropped. If you listen, a lot of my records have a strong beginning, the way everything kicks in. Those are elements I base on how I would want to start the record over if I was cutting it up.
Who was the first producer who influenced you?
Marley Marl. He had an offbeat scratch style, and his beats were so ahead of everybody else’s funk. Like, I was wondering how he got his kicks and snares to sound like the old records that came from the ’70s and the disco era—’76, ’77, ’78. He his own drum sound. And I could tell he was sampling. But where’s he getting it from? And then once I started seeing he was actually grabbing a single snare and an actual kick and taking that to create a new pattern, and then putting music over it, I was just blown away. I totally emulated and copied his style, but I didn’t bite it where I totally ripped him off. It’s like borrowing the idea that he taught that I liked, and then taking that idea and converting into my style of idea, based on his influence. And the way he always scratched the hook, I was like, Yo, I want to do that too.
Did you connect with him early on?
Oh, yeah. I met him when "Words I Manifest" came along. When "Words I Manifest" came out, Marley Marl was the first one who played it. And that was our dream. Seeing Marley Marl and Red Alert play it. Chuck Chillout, Awesome 2 and all of ’em. And running into Rakim back then, and him saying, "Yo, I love your album." And EPMD saying the same thing. That’s all we wanted. We wanted to make money, too, but we knew that was going to be a slow process. So to get their recognition, that’s all I wanted. And now it’s now even about that [respect from proven veterans] with all these new cats, but we stick to that tradition of how we do these things.
How do you feel about your style, most notably the scratch-hook technique, being copied by other producers?
Anybody who copies what I do, I give it up, because that means that they’re studying me and what I’ve done. And it’s gonna go to a stage where other people learn from it and take it to another level. The main thing is to just be different. People know who the originators are, and I’m one of those cats.
How do you approach production for a Gang Starr album versus a one-off track for another artist’s LP?
Any emcee that works with us, from Jay to Nas to Big—rest in peace to Big—they’re getting a piece of the Gang Starr sound, ’cause we established our own sound through my beats and [Guru’s] lyrics. And people want to get a piece of that, so we share it with anybody as long as they spit that fire. Even though I have a certain similarity to my tracks, it’s tailored to whatever emcee’s voice. There’s certain tracks that I’ve done that I couldn’t hear Guru’s voice over, and there’s Gang Starr tracks that I couldn’t hear other artists rhyme over. I tailor my beats for their artists.
Much was made about the Rakim tracks you submitted for his since-abandoned Aftermath LP being turned down. Was that Dre or Rakim who wasn’t feeling them?
Rak loved them all. And I talked to Dre, and he said it wasn’t him directly. He said other people on his staff were critiquing them before they got to him. And now Rakim just left Aftermath. We recently talked and said we’re gonna do this [Rakim album] the old way. Get Large Professor, get Pete Rock, get Showbiz… just that East Coast funk. So we’re gonna pop his album off lovely. We got M.O.P. writing with him now. It’ll be done our way.
Besides Guru, do you have a favourite emcee to work with?
I liked working with Royce Da 5’9". He’s dope. It’s fun working with Big ’cause he always kept the sessions funny. Who else? Freddie Foxxx. Inspectah Deck was dope when we did "Above the Clouds." Jay-Z’s real quick and easy—in and out.
Have you done your track for Jay-Z’s The Black Album yet?
I already gave it to him. He just called me yesterday and said, "Yo, I love it." He’s on the road right now. I’m doing two. I’m doing the intro to the album and another track [Ed. Note: both premo tracks failed to make the Black Album]. The intro I did, I was hoping I was on the right track, ’cause it’s very different. It’s real funky. He called me yesterday and was like, "Yo, I want you to cut this [sample on the intro]." Jay will tell me what to cut. So will Guru. Even though he doesn’t DJ, he’s like, "Yo, I heard this song you could use." And that makes Guru more of a b-boy, ’cause he hears scratches in his head just like I do.
Describe one of your more memorable recording sessions.
With Nas, when we did "N.Y. State of Mind," at the beginning when he says, "Straight out the dungeons of rap/ Where fake niggas don’t make it back." Then you hear him say, "I don’t know how to start this shit," ’cause he had just written it. He’s got the beat running in the studio, but he doesn’t know how he’s going to format how he’s going to convey it. So he’s going, "I don’t know how to start this shit," and I’m counting him in [to begin his verse]. One, two, three. And then you can hear him go, "Yo," and then he goes right into it. He didn’t know how he was gonna come in, but he just started going because we were recording. I’m actually yelling, "We’re recording!" and banging on the [vocal booth] window. "Come on, get ready." You hear him start the shit: “Rappers…” And then everyone in the studio was like, "Oh, my God," ’cause it was so unexpected. He was not ready. So we used that first verse. And that was when he was up and coming, his first album. So we was like, Yo, this guy is gonna be big.
What about Biggie?
We had very, very, very bugged-out sessions, on all levels. I can remember when we was working on "Unbelievable" and we had a back lounge in each studio room. The room I work out of, Studio B up at D&D, there’s a back-room lounge with an old couch, and Big would go there and lay down. I went to go let him know that I pretty much had the track structured so he could listen to it, and when I walked in there, he’s in there with two girls and they’re both giving him a blow job at the same time. Biggie had his clothes off—big, fat and nasty. And he didn’t care, either. He wasn’t like, "Oh, let me cover up. You walked in on me naked."
Biggie opened up for us when we did a show at Virginia State: It was me and Jeru the Damaja, Pete Rock. And we woke up early that morning to knock on Biggie’s room to see if he’s gonna follow us back to New York. And I knock on his door, and he opens the door buck-naked in his boxer drawers with a bucket of chicken. And Jeru says, "Yo, you need to stop eatin’ all of that meat, man. You need to go vegetarian." Big was like, "Yo, my name is Biggie, not Barkim." Barkim is like a God name for people who don’t eat flesh and stuff like that. So it’s funny to see Big there topless, big ol’ titties hanging out, and no shame.
How do you approach a remix as opposed to an original composition?
The only difference is, you already have the vocals pre-laid. Making an original song is more difficult because you’re starting with no ideas and you’re building ideas. With a remix, I have all the elements, and all I’m doing is a different version of that song—more of a gutter version, a b-boy, hip-hop version. They’re more fun to do because you can do so many different combinations of beats. You already have the tempo, so you already know what you have to lock in on, and boom—it’s down. I just did a Mary J. Blige remix. She used "So Ghetto" from the Jay-Z record, but she redid her vocals and did different vocals to that beat instead of taking the original vocals for "Love at First Sight," which used the "Hot Sex on a Platter" beat with Meth. She re-sang the entire thing, and now she’s supposed to get Jay-Z to spit on it, or Jadakiss.
What challenges do you put on yourself, as a producer?
I like to force myself to keep changing and do another style and showing that I can bang billions of tracks out. Some people get to a certain degree and they just burn out, or their style burns out. We always reinvent. That’s the fun part, sitting there going, "Ah, damn, that sounds too much like the other one." When we’re doing albums, I’m like, "Yo, this sounds dope, but it sounds too much like the rhythmic pattern of this one I did." And Guru’s like, "Are you sure?" And I’m like, "Yeah, it’s gonna bother me." So we’ll redo it, or save it for something else or recreate another track. I don’t want all the patterns of the way I chop my samples to have the dance, so to speak, of another record I have.
You’re known for spitting little rants on the Gang Starr albums, tackling subjects that bother you about the industry. Have you ever been tempted to rap?
No. I do it bugging out on the tour bus, freestyling, but I would never make a record rhyming.
Now that D&D in Manhattan has closed, where are you working?
Everywhere. It’s been a big hassle. But we just took it over, so it’ll be back open in about a month. Same location, new name. Now it belongs to us—me and some other partners. It’s called Headqcourterz. You have to spell it right because my man just passed away. Rest in peace, Headqcourterz. We love you, baby. We miss you. And this studio’s gonna live on through your name.
Which contemporary hip-hop producers inspire you?
I like Alchemist. I like DJ Scratch, formerly of EPMD. I like Havoc of Mobb Deep; I think he’s very underrated, doing all the Mobb Deep albums. Some of Just Blaze’s stuff is cool—he’s doing the singing-fast, 45 R&B thing.
Do you create music when you get inspired or only when there’s a project to be done?
Only when something has to be done. It’s time-consuming to sit there and create a track. So I definitely, definitely only do that when something has to be done. I think that makes it more spontaneous, and on top of that, I always come on and make the beat right off the head. A lot of producers have tracks on a disc, like 20-30 tracks. I ain’t got time to sit there and do that many tracks. When you make ’em straight off the head, you know it’s just freshly made. It’s like making a fresh batch of cookies. You can’t wait for them to cool off so you can eat ’em.
How long does it take to make a track?
It could be an hour, it could be 15 minutes, it could be a week. I can just tell when it’s ready. Sometimes I start with the sample first, sometimes the drums. It doesn’t matter.
Do you remember your first beat?
I used a Chi-Lites sample. I had an SP12, not an SP1200. You had to have a big, giant floppy disk, and you had to wait almost 10 minutes for it to save all the data. It was ill. I still have a tape of all those beats. I found my demo. This is probably 1985. I just kept toying with it until I felt I understood what I was doing. I knew what I wanted to sample, and then boom—went straight to it. Got better and better, kept sharpening up my skills.
Do you have plans for a DJ Premier producer-based LP, in the vein of Hi-Tek and Da Beatminerz?
I’m in the process of doing one [label negotiations pending], and I’m about to release the Group Home instrumental album [on my own label, Year Round], with all the beats from that album. A lot of people have looped them and put out DJ Premier instrumental bullshit. I’ve never put out an instrumental record in my life. All that stuff is bogus; I did none of that. The loops are not even tight.
Have you ever made a track for someone and they turned it down, only to have another emcee scoop it up?
Oh, yeah. Jadakiss turned down the track Bumpy Knuckles used called "PAINE." Jadakiss said, "That’s not the right vibe"; Bumpy said, "I’ll take it." Jay-Z didn’t like the beat for "Goldyn Child," by Ras Kass. I made that for Jay, he didn’t like it. I played it for Ras Kass, and he was like, "That’s it." "Ten Crack Commandments" was really a promo for Angie Martinez’s show on HOT97 called "The Hot 5 at 9." She would play the top five songs at nine o’clock, so that’s why I scratched [Chuck D’s voice]: One, two, three, four, five. And then, six, seven, eight, nine at the end, to make sure people got it: Hot 5 at 9. Biggie and Puff heard that promo ’cause they was at the radio that day and were like, "Who did that promo?" The [radio station] was like, "Premier did it." Biggie and Puff were like, "That’s crazy! We want to do a song to that."
Anything else you want to add?
Stay original. Real hip-hop lives, all day, every day
