Everybody Wanna Be Gangsta ... Until They Get Punched In The Face

“There are men in this world … who go about demanding to be killed. You must have noticed them. They quarrel in gambling games, they jump out of their automobiles in a rage if someone so much as scratches their fender, they humiliate and bully people whose capabilities they do not know. I have seen a man, a fool, deliberately infuriate a group of dangerous men, and he himself without any resources. These are people who wander through the world shouting, ‘Kill me. Kill me.’ And there is always somebody ready to oblige them…” – Don Vito Corleone in The Godfather

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Have you encountered motherfuckers like the ones Don Vito tells Michael about?

They’re everywhere.

In business. Education. Politics. Law enforcement. Sports. Entertainment and the arts. Everywhere.

Most of the time, they manage to get through life believing they’re untouchable. That they’re gangsta. That they’re all that. Once in while though, when justice finds a way to prevail, they get punched in the face … And when that happens they bawl, complain, bitch like motherfucking babies and want to call the police. Assholes.

If you’ve read me for a while (or at all), you’ll know that my knowledge of hip hop is terribly limited. I like Wu-Tang. A little Cypress Hill. Some OutKast, Kanye and Eminem. But that’s really it. And while I like their music, I don’t dig nor understand the violence and hate in the rhymes.

Ice-T and NWA were the rap acts my friends were into when I was in my teens. And though I liked some of the tunes (no doubt samples of riffs from rock songs), I never got the hate and misogyny. In fact, I was embarrassed about even liking the melodies. It felt like liking the music was in a way condoning the values expressed in them. It’s the same reason I could never get into Andrew Dice Clay when he was all the rage.

I’m not judging people who like hardcore gangsta rap (or Andrew Dice Clay). I’m just saying it’s not for me.

Over the years, I’ve become more accepting of a lot of things and most times, I can manage to separate the artist from the art. What I still have issue with though is Malaysian rap artists who insist on being all gangsta and rapping about "bitchiz" and "hos" and "drive-bys". They call their girlfriends "boo". Use phrases like "mos def, blood" and "niggaz be hatin’". And worst of all, WORST OF ALL, claim to like basketball.

Take these motherfuckers for example -- Muscle//Machine. 

A friend was talking these fellas up recently 'cause they "sound international". Apparently. (Now, I don't get this whole obsession with sounding international mainly because over the years, I've come to realise that sounding international simply means singing/rapping in fake Western accents. So fucking what if a Malaysian act sounds international? Does that make them better?) Anyway, based on said recommendation, I gave them a chance. But one minute into Double Black Whiskey I wanted to smash my computer screen in with my fists! No doubt, the only thing stopping me was the knowledge that I would not be able to afford another.

International?!?! Try offensive!!!

Music’s all right, I’ll give you. But the lyrics… my God. “Return of the big dicks"?!. “I be taking skinny bitches 'till they need to get stitches”?! “Cream pie that hole with my liquid gold”?!

I'm in my thirties. And I have two sons and no daughters. But the kind of shit I was hearing made me feel like an old man obsessed about the safety of his precious only daughter. I felt like beating the shit outta motherfuckers who makes music like this, say things like this, was justified. 

People have claimed that Marilyn Manson’s music contributed to the Columbine shootings. Well, Antichrist Superstar and Mechanical Animals never made me want to pick up a semi-automatic rifle. Muscle//Machine’s Double Black Whiskey on the other hand, makes me want to commit murder. Or at least punch some motherfucker in the motherfucking face.

I used to think K-Town Clan needed to be shown the real meaning of gangsta by a gang of real RXZ-riding, Bata slippers-wearing rowdies. Well, Give Em The Ughh is nowhere near as offensive as Double Black Whiskey.

I’m not going to rant more 'cause even writing about this I feel like I’m about to bust a blood vessel, but I will say this -- Muscle//Machine are right now wandering the world shouting, “Kill me. Kill me". And as Don Vito says, you better know what you’re doing, assholes. 'Cause there's always someone ready to oblige. May not be. But there'll be someone. Trust me. And when you do get punched in your motherfuckin' faces, will you bitch and moan and wanna call the police?

Incidentally, these assholes have a mixtape entitled ... wait for it ... Straight To The Vagina.

I couldn't have made this shit up even if I had wanted to.