Nas Speaks On 2pac, B.I.G., Jay Z, & Commercialism (Source 2001)
Thought this was a interesting read its back from 2001 right before stillmatic dropped :thumb:
Nas
Still Matter
Once hailed as the messiah of rap, Nas secured his place in history with a classic debut. but after five years of commercial success, can he reclaim his long lost illmatic status?
Words by Mr. Parker
BLAME EXCELLENCE. BLAME PERFECTION and aggression. Blame one of hip hop's most beautiful moments for the prison that traps Nasir Jones today - blame Illmatic. If not for that classic LP, with its street poetry poured over sparse tracks, there would be no discussion of whether the rapper still matters. Critics wouldn't have clicked blood filled Bics that bled hard onto the pages of reviews claiming sellout. And bloodthirsty fans wouldn't have read them and wanted more. If Illmatic never was, other works, like It Was Written and I Am..., would've shined in their own right. Ol friendships spoiled by business dealings might still be intact. Adversaries old and new who went against him in ways big and small may have focused their negative attention elsewhere. But small may have focused their negative attention elsewhere. But without that monumental album, hip hop would've been deprived of the introspective, observant, articulate rapper. And without the music, Nasir Jones wouldn't have received the $250,000 album advance that brought the diamonds, Gucci shoes, condo, and GS300 when them shits first came out.
Illmatic had its highs and lows for Nas. On one hand, he made history and inspired a whole new crop of MCs and, more importantly, and entire generation of young Black and Latino Americans who understood his story. But there are painful memories and the pressure to repeat. "Sometimes I dont like to remember the making of Illmatic," says Nas. "Cause there were alot of dark memories - nightmares I had to get over through the years.
Spanning from the Queensboro Bridge to 41st, a compact six to eight city blocks, the Queensbridge housing projects breathe life and death. And though she never sleeps, she's the author of dreams as well as nightmares. Take the violent end to Nas's best friend, Ill Will, for whom he earned his record label and whose alias is emblazoned on his left arm. Will was shot down in the street. "It happened right in front of a lil shorty's building," Nas remembers while slumped in a wooden chair in the lounge of a midtown NYC recording studio. "I heared the shots and ran downstairs. I saw my brother on the floor. I aint even see Will on the floor." His voice becomes softer. "[I knew he was dead because] he was the only one whose eyes were closed."
Such experiences were woven into the fabric of Illmatic. Nas took a long hard look at his life and chopped it up into snapshots for all to digest. So how could the same mind that made the thoughtful Illmatic, author the flimsy Nastradamus? What experiences inhabited the space between Illmatic's gritty tales and the pop life of It Was Written, or say, The Firm project? Each release after Illmatic has weakened his standing in the streets. While his classic holds up, Nas the credible MC fades in the distance. Couple that with the recent attack by Jay Z and heads are asking if Nas is necessary. He'll answer that question when his latest album drops in December. But it'll be the streets that will decide if he's "stillmatic" as his latest LP title suggests. "My whole life from zero to 20 went into Illmatic," he says. "I could never make that album again. When you going through some deep shit, that's just the best ingredients for some good shit."
Artists are emotional - rappers included. It's a hazard of the job. Most rap artists, however, show anger more than compassion. One reason why Nas admired Tupac so much as an artist was because of his ability to show both. The reason he admired him as a man also follows along those lines.
In Tupac's last days, he declared war on almost everyone: from Biggie to Jay Z to Prodigy and Nas. He and Nas, however, met to settle their differences - one way or another - at an afterparty for the MTV Awards just days before Tupac was murdered. "A lot of these niggas up here were scared. Nobody would come out and attend none of these events that Suge Knight and Tupac were at. My brother Jungle and them got into some words inside the award show. I wasn't around but I heard about it. So you know how we do, we call up the niggas and we got about 70, 80 of our niggas."
"Suge got in the middle of it and said, 'Everybody be cool. Chill the fuck out. I don't wanna see nobody else talk but this man and that man." They talked about the diss that Tupac had planned on his next LP, Makaveli. The rest unfolded like a family reunion. "So we talked and it was a beautiful thing. He said, 'If me and you are on cool terms, I won't have to come at you on Makaveli. I'll take [the diss] off [my record] and we need to build. We can set up a meeting where we sit down and make this shit real.' I said, "bet." He said he was going to Vegas." That was September 4th 1997. Two days later, Nas called about the meeting only to be greeted by the news that Pac had been shot. By Friday the 13th Tupac was dead. Makaveli came out two weeks later. The Nas diss remained on his record along with all the others.
Jay Z must've went over the plan in his head many times. He had it all figured out. First he'd diss Prodigy onstage at Summer Jam (A NYC, Hot 97 based concert that attracts legions of fans as well as industry insiders) against the backdrop of a young, not so murderous looking photo of P - apparently in a dance outfit. Then, at the end of the verse, he'd shout, "Ask Nas, he don't want it wit Hov!" And those eight words - an open invitation to war - his plan jumped into effect. Nas shot back on the fiery response record, "Stillmatic." Over the instrumental to Rakim's "Paid In Full," Nas defended his honor and attempted to assassinate Jay's. With lyrics like "is he H to the Izzo M ot the Izzo?/Fa shizzle you phony/The rappin version of Sisqo," he revealed his fangs and took Hovito's bait - hook, line and sinker.
You could almost see Jay's wheels turning as he moved quickly into position, slapping an additional verse onto The Blueprint. Folks quickly forget about the poignant "Stillmatic." "I was like, 'Wow," remembers Nas. "Homie set this whole thing up to set his album up." A brief chuckle creeps out as he shakes his head. "I said, 'Smart, smart, smart.' It's something I would do."
For many listeners who weren't all up in the daily workings of music industry news, the recent explosion between two of rap's standing kings was as unexpected as the attack on New York's twin towers. But like all wars, there's always something deeper history cultivated in the dark, untold - that is, until now. Jay Z refused to tell his side to The Source, but Nas has a history to reveal. "It's more than a wax war," he begins in an even tone. "Before it's a wax war, it's in the hearts of minds of the man."
Like lava, this battle has been brewing under the surface longer than either side really wants to reveal. And before you can get the lava to stop flowing, you have to start deep within the mountain of Nas's mind.
So where does this beef come from?
Nas tilts his head to the side as if he's searching for the answer but it's clear he's already put all the events up to this point through his mental wringer. "I would hear that he was mad that I didn't come to the studio and be on his album or be in his video," he says. "Stuff that I couldn't see a man being mad of. It didnt make sense to me."
While Nas may not have had cause to do a record with Jay back then, to the listening public, however, a Nas and Jay Z song would've been well received. They're both from NYC, they both have ill flows and cult followings. So why, in the collabo happy late 90's wouldn't the two share a track?
"I wasn't on none of Biggie's, Snoop's, Rakim's, LL Cool J's [albums], and I love all those people," he explains with one breath. "And none of those guys were on my album. Why? I mean, I sure wanted to work with them at one time in my career. It didn't happen. Is that a reason to be mad? If it is, I think he was looking deeper than what it was."
To further blur the original line in the sand, Nas believes that Jay Z was shooting him darts on the low on records, but he doesn't quote any specific lines. He's vague about any such references. ("He would say slick shit for the longest, since his second album. He'll never admit that he was talking about me cause admitting that exposes him, But real niggas know what's going on.") Apparently he wasn't the only one who felt Sean Carter was arrogant beyond his accomplishments.
Steve Stoute, the head of Interscope's Black Music Division who oversaw The Firm project, recommended that Nas slide a message Jay's way. "I told Nas he should make a message to let everybody know he's the King Of New York," says Stoute. "And that's what 'The Message' was. Nas didn't diss Jay on 'The Message'. Everybody was making subliminal records in the industry.
"The most I would say is [from I Am...] 'Niggas using Biggie's name in vain, and they claim to be New York's king,' And that's all Steve or anybody saying, 'You gotta say something back to dude could get outta me."
For whatever reason, misunderstanding or disrespect, the two are engaged in a viciously personal bout of lyrical ping pong, or in Jay's case, musical chess. After Nas implied that Jay Z is a wannabe tough guy with "no priors," Jay went for the jugular revealing an inside joke. ("You know who did u know what but lets keep that between me and you"). According to Nas, the line is encoded and when translated in Jay Z speak, reads, "Ha ha, I banged your baby mom." Under normal circumstances, that line would do little to stir the streets. But in this case, it was true. While Jay Z verbally dangled the dirty condom in Nas's face, it became evident that this was more than a war of words.
"My BM told me she used to mess with him. Now he's bringin it up.. after [we've been] broken up for years. Of course he gonna mention that. I would mention it too. But he know it don't hold no weight, and I know it don't hold no weight. But to fans, thats a dope punch." He laughs anxiously, punches his hand for punctuation and peers off past space. "Thats a dope score".
Though Nas tries to dismiss the exchange and downplay any feelings of humiliation that most men would feel in this situation, he reveals his pain in subtle ways when the subject comes up. Like the anxious laughter. Or the way he raises his voice and looks off into the long distance.
"Sometimes my niggas say, 'Jay got an obsession with you, some strange type of obsession,'" Nas says through a smile that lets on that he thinks this theory is one worth looking into. "I call it an MC battle thing. It's hip hop. Its healthy for hip hop. Thats just what it is".
In 2000 when Rocafella young gun Memphis Bleek responded (You said your lifestyle was written/Who you supposed to be/Play your position") to Nas's ("You wanna ball till you fall/I can help you with that"), heads wondered if Bleek was outta line.
If it was always between Jay and Nas, why was Memphis Bleek who landed the first major blow instead of Jay?
"Their crew is dealing with this Nas issue everyday. [Memphis is] like 'When we gonna attack this muthafucka and get him off this earth? Jay had to respect him and say, 'I'ma take this one from you, shorty. I gotta deal with this.'"
Nas is no stranger to controversy and beefs. If nothing else, his much publicized rivalry with his former homie from the hood Cormega readied him to dela with business friendships gone bad. One such relationship is with MC Serch of Third Bass fame and Serchlite publishing (as in, "I know who I paid, god, Serchlite publishing"). "We had a preset arrangement from the end of the Illmatic album," explains Serch of his split with Nas. "I gave him back all his publishing, and Nas still jerked me cause hes not a man." According to Serch, after he helped Nas get his deal with Columbia records for Illmatic, he agreed to give Serch a predetermined amount of money. But when it came time to ante up, Nas forced a renegotiation. As far as Jay Z's claim that he paid Serchlight for sampling Nas's voice, Serch responds, "That's true. I took a 20 percent as a fee of publishing on the first album. And if Jay Z wants to give me a shout out because I'm a good man, thats cool right?"
While no one knows in what direction this battle will ultimately turn, Stoute thinks the energy can be focused into bringing about a more positive end. "They should do a song together and donate funds," he says. "No one really hates each other anyway; its just like the WWF." It seems as if the King of New York crown has lost its luster for Nas. His piece of mind is being threatened and there are times he wonders whether he'd be the center of so much ill intention if it weren't for Illmatic. "I saw what Big went through." His voice raises with the conviction of his words. "I would never wanna be there. Fuck a top! To me, top is healthy, successful. If I'm gonna make records, I dont care about shine. Any nigga can shine. Thats the last thing I'm worrying about. I shine without jewelry. If i'm gonna use this time, I'm gonna use it for something real."
Nas has always had a take on world issues, in particular those he feels relate to Black America's welfare. That's part of what has made him so important. And when planes came crashing into the Pentago and the WTC, he was true to form. "I basically felt like it was gonna happen one day," explains Nas about the attacks on the World Trade Center. "They tried to do it before and it was unsuccessful. I mean, its been war going on since the beginning of time and it finally hit. It woke me back up to the reality that this world is gonna be in war forever."
And it's this worldview, he maintains, that has never changed, though the beats have. In fact, Nas doesnt think he ever went pop. He thinks he stepped outside the box of Nasty Nas and kept his core message the same. "I did a song with the most prolific, incredible, greatest MC on the planet, Lauryn Hill talking about ruling the world. And they called it commercial. When a nigga talk positive, they wanna destroy that nigga before he comes up. I was like If I rule the world, freein brothers sending them to Africa.'" He readjusts himself in his seat and shifts into a new mind frame. "They thought I was going to come and tell niggas to smoke more weed, drink more Henney. Yeah, I'ma do that but not on this song. This song is gonna tell you about Africa. This song's gonna tell you about Corretta Scott King. And when you hear the softer sounding tone, you automatically think something's wrong."
To Nas's core audience of street philosophers, "Show Me," with Ginuwine taunting the women and sparking dance floors on the chorus, felt like a 180 degree turn from the introspective cuts of the previous albums. But Nas insists that he has a method to his music soft or hard. "[I made sure I said], 'Owe me back like 40 acres to blacks.' When they play that on MTV, make sure you say that. I'm never gonna stop talking about what is real. And if people wanna call that commercial then there's nothing I can do about it. The only line I'm staying along is being true to myself. I would do a fuckin record singing tomorrow. People will talk about that because it might sound like some fake Carl Thomas record. No, I'm having fun and sometimes I gotta really be a human being to do that. But I can come back and still do my thing."
Africa is a recurring theme for Nas. That's where he sent the freed prisoners from Attica ("If I Ruled The World"), that's where his character Sincere wanted to go to get away (Belly). He rarely breaks down any specific countries - just Africa. "We stand up for our people worldwide - street niggas." He pounds his chest for emphasis. "The most miseducated, most high school dropout, weed smokin, thug convict niggas are usually the ones thats most aware. We connect to our people whether in the Middle East, whether in China, whether they in Africa cause we the chosen people. We just mixed blood and come from so many parts of the Dark Continent and we know our people are all over. Nowhere else in the world do people recognize the Black man in America as their people as much as we recognize our people from not just Africa but everywhere. That's why you hear it in the music."
Nasir Ben Olu Dara Jones is an Arabic name. His father didn't raise him with any one religion but Nas tried his hand at a few. He's not muslim, he's not Christian. He doesn't feel like a fully respected citizen of America but he'll be goin nowhere soon - Africa included. And in the wake of the recent war in the Middle East, he hasn't become a flag waving, reborn American either. "Now America wants to befriend the niggas and the Black people. We're all one country. We in the middle of it, but you know it's funny how you always need niggas. You needed niggas in your world wars. You needed niggas in the Civil War, and after the war, it goes right back to the normal way. We don't have no reparations for anything and we're still down with these muthafuckas. I'm an American. We down with these mufuckas til death. We the nicest people. We've been so passive. The Black man could have done that a long time ago: hijack a plane and start a revolution in the way Huey Newton, the way Malcolm was talkin in his early days, and really got the shit on. But we never took it that far. Because that would've been fucked up. While we fight it, this is our land."
Maybe his meeting with Tupac would've addressed these issues. Who knows what direction Pac would've pursued or what shape he and Nas might've been in to lead a movement outside of the music? "The meeting was gonna be a preparation for knowing who us rappers are today, who we are to our community, who we are to the world." Nas's face lights up when he speaks of the meeting that never was. "It was time for brothers to really get serious and start doing something about what's going on. About us controlling more of our destinies, about bein real about it, ya know. It was a beautiful thing cause it could've went elsewhere. But it didn't and it was just a long time coming that we talk."
The future of Nas's career is like living paycheck to paycheck. One misstep could cost him the remainder of his audience. With his lattest LP, the message gets mixed. It's titled Stillmatic but he maintains that he wants this disc to be very different from Illmatic. "Spiritually it takes me to another level as a person," he offers of his next creation. "I'm older, I'm a different person now. I couldn't live with every LP sounding like Illmatic."
Nas's time with Pac changed his outlook, but you see no evidence of this as it relates to the ongoing feud with Jay Z. After the B.I.G. vs Pac/East vs West fiasco, it was like rappers put deeply personal battles on pause as some sort of salute to the fallen heroes. Now, just four years after B.I.G.'s passing, the ban has been lifted. Major rappers like Beanie Sigel and Jadakiss and Nas, Prodigy, and Jay are now going at each other with fervor. What makes this battle between two of New York's most influential MC's ironic is that they both use the medium of music to pay homage to the fallen rappers. How would B.I.G. - who Jigga boasted, "Big, I did it/Multi before I die," on The Blueprint - view their dispute? On the riveting tribute "We Will Survive," Nas spoke to Pac: "You was caught in a wild homicide/Or were you crucified/Like the son of God when Lucifer lied?" What would his take be? Do rappers need to die to live in peace?
So what would it take for Nas and Jay to put their differences behind them?
"I can't predict that. I'll forget about it tomorrow. I forgot about it actually, actually, to tell you the truth." Still, he sees the commercial value of a good ol fashioned hip hop battle. And though Jay hit some pretty honest and soft spots on Nas, he can thank him for turning his audience's ears onto Nas's next release. "He got a lot a mufuckas looking at me because of this bullshit."
Rappers are part of a fraternity, a not so secret society. They put up with the same bullshit from DJs, party promoters, fans, magazine writers, lawyers and managers. They go up and they go down. "The jewel of the game every nigga better recognize is that you were something special before you put out one rhyme. All these superstar rappers gotta know this. You were special before you ever started rappin." He stops, looks out of the window at the people walking below and takes it in. "If it stops today, you know who you are. You know what you did. You still left a legacy."
For Nas, that legacy is Illmatic. If Nas never recaptures the legions of hardcore followers he had with that debut, he'll still have made history. People were touched. And that's really what any rapper is worth his weight in fan mail wants. "You only got one chance to be here physically. How will you use your time? Niggas like Huey Newton died for us. I don't have half the nuts Pac had. So I gotta lay down somethin my way. I aint got the muscle Tyson or Muhammad Ali got to fight Holyfield, so I gotta fight my way."
So does he really want it with Hov? Despite what "Stillmatic" or the new record, "General" may suggest? Its not likely, at least not today. "I just wanna be remembered as having my own identity. If Nas come out and sell 10 million copies tomorrow, and they say Nas is the on top rapper, that's not what i asked for. I just wanna be heard and respected. All that other shit, I never asked for...Less is more."
As he fights to get out of the shadow of Illmatic, he searches for his place in hip hop history. Pac's the martyr, Biggie's the Legend, and Jay Z is the King of NY, for now. As Nas, his latest album is not yet completed. But if he stays on track, the people who wish for diary entries of a street disciple - but expect the mediocre exploits of a platinum dipped player - will breathe a collective sigh of relief.
When you've made your mark on rap and inspired folks to at least look at their situation with a more critical eye, history will show just how much you made a difference. But today, maybe the question is wrong. Maybe it shouldn't be: Does Nas still matter to hip hop? But rather, Does hip hop still matter to Nas?
Thought this was a interesting read its back from 2001 right before stillmatic dropped :thumb:
Nas
Still Matter
Once hailed as the messiah of rap, Nas secured his place in history with a classic debut. but after five years of commercial success, can he reclaim his long lost illmatic status?
Words by Mr. Parker
BLAME EXCELLENCE. BLAME PERFECTION and aggression. Blame one of hip hop's most beautiful moments for the prison that traps Nasir Jones today - blame Illmatic. If not for that classic LP, with its street poetry poured over sparse tracks, there would be no discussion of whether the rapper still matters. Critics wouldn't have clicked blood filled Bics that bled hard onto the pages of reviews claiming sellout. And bloodthirsty fans wouldn't have read them and wanted more. If Illmatic never was, other works, like It Was Written and I Am..., would've shined in their own right. Ol friendships spoiled by business dealings might still be intact. Adversaries old and new who went against him in ways big and small may have focused their negative attention elsewhere. But small may have focused their negative attention elsewhere. But without that monumental album, hip hop would've been deprived of the introspective, observant, articulate rapper. And without the music, Nasir Jones wouldn't have received the $250,000 album advance that brought the diamonds, Gucci shoes, condo, and GS300 when them shits first came out.
Illmatic had its highs and lows for Nas. On one hand, he made history and inspired a whole new crop of MCs and, more importantly, and entire generation of young Black and Latino Americans who understood his story. But there are painful memories and the pressure to repeat. "Sometimes I dont like to remember the making of Illmatic," says Nas. "Cause there were alot of dark memories - nightmares I had to get over through the years.
Spanning from the Queensboro Bridge to 41st, a compact six to eight city blocks, the Queensbridge housing projects breathe life and death. And though she never sleeps, she's the author of dreams as well as nightmares. Take the violent end to Nas's best friend, Ill Will, for whom he earned his record label and whose alias is emblazoned on his left arm. Will was shot down in the street. "It happened right in front of a lil shorty's building," Nas remembers while slumped in a wooden chair in the lounge of a midtown NYC recording studio. "I heared the shots and ran downstairs. I saw my brother on the floor. I aint even see Will on the floor." His voice becomes softer. "[I knew he was dead because] he was the only one whose eyes were closed."
Such experiences were woven into the fabric of Illmatic. Nas took a long hard look at his life and chopped it up into snapshots for all to digest. So how could the same mind that made the thoughtful Illmatic, author the flimsy Nastradamus? What experiences inhabited the space between Illmatic's gritty tales and the pop life of It Was Written, or say, The Firm project? Each release after Illmatic has weakened his standing in the streets. While his classic holds up, Nas the credible MC fades in the distance. Couple that with the recent attack by Jay Z and heads are asking if Nas is necessary. He'll answer that question when his latest album drops in December. But it'll be the streets that will decide if he's "stillmatic" as his latest LP title suggests. "My whole life from zero to 20 went into Illmatic," he says. "I could never make that album again. When you going through some deep shit, that's just the best ingredients for some good shit."
Artists are emotional - rappers included. It's a hazard of the job. Most rap artists, however, show anger more than compassion. One reason why Nas admired Tupac so much as an artist was because of his ability to show both. The reason he admired him as a man also follows along those lines.
In Tupac's last days, he declared war on almost everyone: from Biggie to Jay Z to Prodigy and Nas. He and Nas, however, met to settle their differences - one way or another - at an afterparty for the MTV Awards just days before Tupac was murdered. "A lot of these niggas up here were scared. Nobody would come out and attend none of these events that Suge Knight and Tupac were at. My brother Jungle and them got into some words inside the award show. I wasn't around but I heard about it. So you know how we do, we call up the niggas and we got about 70, 80 of our niggas."
"Suge got in the middle of it and said, 'Everybody be cool. Chill the fuck out. I don't wanna see nobody else talk but this man and that man." They talked about the diss that Tupac had planned on his next LP, Makaveli. The rest unfolded like a family reunion. "So we talked and it was a beautiful thing. He said, 'If me and you are on cool terms, I won't have to come at you on Makaveli. I'll take [the diss] off [my record] and we need to build. We can set up a meeting where we sit down and make this shit real.' I said, "bet." He said he was going to Vegas." That was September 4th 1997. Two days later, Nas called about the meeting only to be greeted by the news that Pac had been shot. By Friday the 13th Tupac was dead. Makaveli came out two weeks later. The Nas diss remained on his record along with all the others.
Jay Z must've went over the plan in his head many times. He had it all figured out. First he'd diss Prodigy onstage at Summer Jam (A NYC, Hot 97 based concert that attracts legions of fans as well as industry insiders) against the backdrop of a young, not so murderous looking photo of P - apparently in a dance outfit. Then, at the end of the verse, he'd shout, "Ask Nas, he don't want it wit Hov!" And those eight words - an open invitation to war - his plan jumped into effect. Nas shot back on the fiery response record, "Stillmatic." Over the instrumental to Rakim's "Paid In Full," Nas defended his honor and attempted to assassinate Jay's. With lyrics like "is he H to the Izzo M ot the Izzo?/Fa shizzle you phony/The rappin version of Sisqo," he revealed his fangs and took Hovito's bait - hook, line and sinker.
You could almost see Jay's wheels turning as he moved quickly into position, slapping an additional verse onto The Blueprint. Folks quickly forget about the poignant "Stillmatic." "I was like, 'Wow," remembers Nas. "Homie set this whole thing up to set his album up." A brief chuckle creeps out as he shakes his head. "I said, 'Smart, smart, smart.' It's something I would do."
For many listeners who weren't all up in the daily workings of music industry news, the recent explosion between two of rap's standing kings was as unexpected as the attack on New York's twin towers. But like all wars, there's always something deeper history cultivated in the dark, untold - that is, until now. Jay Z refused to tell his side to The Source, but Nas has a history to reveal. "It's more than a wax war," he begins in an even tone. "Before it's a wax war, it's in the hearts of minds of the man."
Like lava, this battle has been brewing under the surface longer than either side really wants to reveal. And before you can get the lava to stop flowing, you have to start deep within the mountain of Nas's mind.
So where does this beef come from?
Nas tilts his head to the side as if he's searching for the answer but it's clear he's already put all the events up to this point through his mental wringer. "I would hear that he was mad that I didn't come to the studio and be on his album or be in his video," he says. "Stuff that I couldn't see a man being mad of. It didnt make sense to me."
While Nas may not have had cause to do a record with Jay back then, to the listening public, however, a Nas and Jay Z song would've been well received. They're both from NYC, they both have ill flows and cult followings. So why, in the collabo happy late 90's wouldn't the two share a track?
"I wasn't on none of Biggie's, Snoop's, Rakim's, LL Cool J's [albums], and I love all those people," he explains with one breath. "And none of those guys were on my album. Why? I mean, I sure wanted to work with them at one time in my career. It didn't happen. Is that a reason to be mad? If it is, I think he was looking deeper than what it was."
To further blur the original line in the sand, Nas believes that Jay Z was shooting him darts on the low on records, but he doesn't quote any specific lines. He's vague about any such references. ("He would say slick shit for the longest, since his second album. He'll never admit that he was talking about me cause admitting that exposes him, But real niggas know what's going on.") Apparently he wasn't the only one who felt Sean Carter was arrogant beyond his accomplishments.
Steve Stoute, the head of Interscope's Black Music Division who oversaw The Firm project, recommended that Nas slide a message Jay's way. "I told Nas he should make a message to let everybody know he's the King Of New York," says Stoute. "And that's what 'The Message' was. Nas didn't diss Jay on 'The Message'. Everybody was making subliminal records in the industry.
"The most I would say is [from I Am...] 'Niggas using Biggie's name in vain, and they claim to be New York's king,' And that's all Steve or anybody saying, 'You gotta say something back to dude could get outta me."
For whatever reason, misunderstanding or disrespect, the two are engaged in a viciously personal bout of lyrical ping pong, or in Jay's case, musical chess. After Nas implied that Jay Z is a wannabe tough guy with "no priors," Jay went for the jugular revealing an inside joke. ("You know who did u know what but lets keep that between me and you"). According to Nas, the line is encoded and when translated in Jay Z speak, reads, "Ha ha, I banged your baby mom." Under normal circumstances, that line would do little to stir the streets. But in this case, it was true. While Jay Z verbally dangled the dirty condom in Nas's face, it became evident that this was more than a war of words.
"My BM told me she used to mess with him. Now he's bringin it up.. after [we've been] broken up for years. Of course he gonna mention that. I would mention it too. But he know it don't hold no weight, and I know it don't hold no weight. But to fans, thats a dope punch." He laughs anxiously, punches his hand for punctuation and peers off past space. "Thats a dope score".
Though Nas tries to dismiss the exchange and downplay any feelings of humiliation that most men would feel in this situation, he reveals his pain in subtle ways when the subject comes up. Like the anxious laughter. Or the way he raises his voice and looks off into the long distance.
"Sometimes my niggas say, 'Jay got an obsession with you, some strange type of obsession,'" Nas says through a smile that lets on that he thinks this theory is one worth looking into. "I call it an MC battle thing. It's hip hop. Its healthy for hip hop. Thats just what it is".
In 2000 when Rocafella young gun Memphis Bleek responded (You said your lifestyle was written/Who you supposed to be/Play your position") to Nas's ("You wanna ball till you fall/I can help you with that"), heads wondered if Bleek was outta line.
If it was always between Jay and Nas, why was Memphis Bleek who landed the first major blow instead of Jay?
"Their crew is dealing with this Nas issue everyday. [Memphis is] like 'When we gonna attack this muthafucka and get him off this earth? Jay had to respect him and say, 'I'ma take this one from you, shorty. I gotta deal with this.'"
Nas is no stranger to controversy and beefs. If nothing else, his much publicized rivalry with his former homie from the hood Cormega readied him to dela with business friendships gone bad. One such relationship is with MC Serch of Third Bass fame and Serchlite publishing (as in, "I know who I paid, god, Serchlite publishing"). "We had a preset arrangement from the end of the Illmatic album," explains Serch of his split with Nas. "I gave him back all his publishing, and Nas still jerked me cause hes not a man." According to Serch, after he helped Nas get his deal with Columbia records for Illmatic, he agreed to give Serch a predetermined amount of money. But when it came time to ante up, Nas forced a renegotiation. As far as Jay Z's claim that he paid Serchlight for sampling Nas's voice, Serch responds, "That's true. I took a 20 percent as a fee of publishing on the first album. And if Jay Z wants to give me a shout out because I'm a good man, thats cool right?"
While no one knows in what direction this battle will ultimately turn, Stoute thinks the energy can be focused into bringing about a more positive end. "They should do a song together and donate funds," he says. "No one really hates each other anyway; its just like the WWF." It seems as if the King of New York crown has lost its luster for Nas. His piece of mind is being threatened and there are times he wonders whether he'd be the center of so much ill intention if it weren't for Illmatic. "I saw what Big went through." His voice raises with the conviction of his words. "I would never wanna be there. Fuck a top! To me, top is healthy, successful. If I'm gonna make records, I dont care about shine. Any nigga can shine. Thats the last thing I'm worrying about. I shine without jewelry. If i'm gonna use this time, I'm gonna use it for something real."
Nas has always had a take on world issues, in particular those he feels relate to Black America's welfare. That's part of what has made him so important. And when planes came crashing into the Pentago and the WTC, he was true to form. "I basically felt like it was gonna happen one day," explains Nas about the attacks on the World Trade Center. "They tried to do it before and it was unsuccessful. I mean, its been war going on since the beginning of time and it finally hit. It woke me back up to the reality that this world is gonna be in war forever."
And it's this worldview, he maintains, that has never changed, though the beats have. In fact, Nas doesnt think he ever went pop. He thinks he stepped outside the box of Nasty Nas and kept his core message the same. "I did a song with the most prolific, incredible, greatest MC on the planet, Lauryn Hill talking about ruling the world. And they called it commercial. When a nigga talk positive, they wanna destroy that nigga before he comes up. I was like If I rule the world, freein brothers sending them to Africa.'" He readjusts himself in his seat and shifts into a new mind frame. "They thought I was going to come and tell niggas to smoke more weed, drink more Henney. Yeah, I'ma do that but not on this song. This song is gonna tell you about Africa. This song's gonna tell you about Corretta Scott King. And when you hear the softer sounding tone, you automatically think something's wrong."
To Nas's core audience of street philosophers, "Show Me," with Ginuwine taunting the women and sparking dance floors on the chorus, felt like a 180 degree turn from the introspective cuts of the previous albums. But Nas insists that he has a method to his music soft or hard. "[I made sure I said], 'Owe me back like 40 acres to blacks.' When they play that on MTV, make sure you say that. I'm never gonna stop talking about what is real. And if people wanna call that commercial then there's nothing I can do about it. The only line I'm staying along is being true to myself. I would do a fuckin record singing tomorrow. People will talk about that because it might sound like some fake Carl Thomas record. No, I'm having fun and sometimes I gotta really be a human being to do that. But I can come back and still do my thing."
Africa is a recurring theme for Nas. That's where he sent the freed prisoners from Attica ("If I Ruled The World"), that's where his character Sincere wanted to go to get away (Belly). He rarely breaks down any specific countries - just Africa. "We stand up for our people worldwide - street niggas." He pounds his chest for emphasis. "The most miseducated, most high school dropout, weed smokin, thug convict niggas are usually the ones thats most aware. We connect to our people whether in the Middle East, whether in China, whether they in Africa cause we the chosen people. We just mixed blood and come from so many parts of the Dark Continent and we know our people are all over. Nowhere else in the world do people recognize the Black man in America as their people as much as we recognize our people from not just Africa but everywhere. That's why you hear it in the music."
Nasir Ben Olu Dara Jones is an Arabic name. His father didn't raise him with any one religion but Nas tried his hand at a few. He's not muslim, he's not Christian. He doesn't feel like a fully respected citizen of America but he'll be goin nowhere soon - Africa included. And in the wake of the recent war in the Middle East, he hasn't become a flag waving, reborn American either. "Now America wants to befriend the niggas and the Black people. We're all one country. We in the middle of it, but you know it's funny how you always need niggas. You needed niggas in your world wars. You needed niggas in the Civil War, and after the war, it goes right back to the normal way. We don't have no reparations for anything and we're still down with these muthafuckas. I'm an American. We down with these mufuckas til death. We the nicest people. We've been so passive. The Black man could have done that a long time ago: hijack a plane and start a revolution in the way Huey Newton, the way Malcolm was talkin in his early days, and really got the shit on. But we never took it that far. Because that would've been fucked up. While we fight it, this is our land."
Maybe his meeting with Tupac would've addressed these issues. Who knows what direction Pac would've pursued or what shape he and Nas might've been in to lead a movement outside of the music? "The meeting was gonna be a preparation for knowing who us rappers are today, who we are to our community, who we are to the world." Nas's face lights up when he speaks of the meeting that never was. "It was time for brothers to really get serious and start doing something about what's going on. About us controlling more of our destinies, about bein real about it, ya know. It was a beautiful thing cause it could've went elsewhere. But it didn't and it was just a long time coming that we talk."
The future of Nas's career is like living paycheck to paycheck. One misstep could cost him the remainder of his audience. With his lattest LP, the message gets mixed. It's titled Stillmatic but he maintains that he wants this disc to be very different from Illmatic. "Spiritually it takes me to another level as a person," he offers of his next creation. "I'm older, I'm a different person now. I couldn't live with every LP sounding like Illmatic."
Nas's time with Pac changed his outlook, but you see no evidence of this as it relates to the ongoing feud with Jay Z. After the B.I.G. vs Pac/East vs West fiasco, it was like rappers put deeply personal battles on pause as some sort of salute to the fallen heroes. Now, just four years after B.I.G.'s passing, the ban has been lifted. Major rappers like Beanie Sigel and Jadakiss and Nas, Prodigy, and Jay are now going at each other with fervor. What makes this battle between two of New York's most influential MC's ironic is that they both use the medium of music to pay homage to the fallen rappers. How would B.I.G. - who Jigga boasted, "Big, I did it/Multi before I die," on The Blueprint - view their dispute? On the riveting tribute "We Will Survive," Nas spoke to Pac: "You was caught in a wild homicide/Or were you crucified/Like the son of God when Lucifer lied?" What would his take be? Do rappers need to die to live in peace?
So what would it take for Nas and Jay to put their differences behind them?
"I can't predict that. I'll forget about it tomorrow. I forgot about it actually, actually, to tell you the truth." Still, he sees the commercial value of a good ol fashioned hip hop battle. And though Jay hit some pretty honest and soft spots on Nas, he can thank him for turning his audience's ears onto Nas's next release. "He got a lot a mufuckas looking at me because of this bullshit."
Rappers are part of a fraternity, a not so secret society. They put up with the same bullshit from DJs, party promoters, fans, magazine writers, lawyers and managers. They go up and they go down. "The jewel of the game every nigga better recognize is that you were something special before you put out one rhyme. All these superstar rappers gotta know this. You were special before you ever started rappin." He stops, looks out of the window at the people walking below and takes it in. "If it stops today, you know who you are. You know what you did. You still left a legacy."
For Nas, that legacy is Illmatic. If Nas never recaptures the legions of hardcore followers he had with that debut, he'll still have made history. People were touched. And that's really what any rapper is worth his weight in fan mail wants. "You only got one chance to be here physically. How will you use your time? Niggas like Huey Newton died for us. I don't have half the nuts Pac had. So I gotta lay down somethin my way. I aint got the muscle Tyson or Muhammad Ali got to fight Holyfield, so I gotta fight my way."
So does he really want it with Hov? Despite what "Stillmatic" or the new record, "General" may suggest? Its not likely, at least not today. "I just wanna be remembered as having my own identity. If Nas come out and sell 10 million copies tomorrow, and they say Nas is the on top rapper, that's not what i asked for. I just wanna be heard and respected. All that other shit, I never asked for...Less is more."
As he fights to get out of the shadow of Illmatic, he searches for his place in hip hop history. Pac's the martyr, Biggie's the Legend, and Jay Z is the King of NY, for now. As Nas, his latest album is not yet completed. But if he stays on track, the people who wish for diary entries of a street disciple - but expect the mediocre exploits of a platinum dipped player - will breathe a collective sigh of relief.
When you've made your mark on rap and inspired folks to at least look at their situation with a more critical eye, history will show just how much you made a difference. But today, maybe the question is wrong. Maybe it shouldn't be: Does Nas still matter to hip hop? But rather, Does hip hop still matter to Nas?
