by Ja Rule
No one knew what to say. He was clear, but what he was saying, none of us was trying to hear. For seconds, which felt like minutes, the sound of the beats from the hall had ceased. There was only the loud buzz of Lyor’s cell phone, which was on vibrate. He didn’t answer it. I was “the little guy,” and what Lyor was saying was that O was out of the picture. Lyor saw a future for me at Def Jam. Only me. What would I say to O when we walked out of there? The dream was on, but it was starting on a fucking awkward note.
Gotti took the meeting from there. Gotti was already standing up, leaning in, over Lyor’s desk. Gotti was speaking fast about his new shit.
“Lyor, if you give me a chance I won’t disappoint you. I have the hot shit. Ja Rule is only the beginning. I know a hit when I hear it.” I watched as Gotti sealed the deal, pointing his fingers and flailing his arms. Lyor slid his hand across the smooth leather desk, silent but giddy with anticipation of the millions he was about to make.
As a new artists and repertoire (A&R) guy for Def Jam, Irv would be able to bring all of his artists to Def Jam.
After Gotti said his piece, Lyor said, “You have until the end of the day to make a decision on what I’ve offered. The little guy and you, Irv. Come back before six with your answer. I’ll have the papers ready for you to sign.” Lyor spoke as though O wasn’t even there. It was the first sign to me that Lyor was cold-blooded. O was crushed, but he did what men do, he said nothing. When we got out on the street, the three of us walked in silence. I thought about how I would feel if it happened to me—if they selected O and didn’t want me. But, really, it had nothing to do with either of us, or so I told myself. I was just what Def Jam was looking for at the time. A different day could have been O’s day.
“Yo. That’s all right. Rule, I give you my blessing. You go ’hed and do that shit and you and I will get back to it another time,” O said.
WE TOOK THE DEAL but Steve Gottlieb and Lyor Cohen had reached an impasse. Irv got a full-time job with benefits at the best hip-hop label in the world and I still couldn’t get out of my deal with TVT. Steve would not let me go, and Lyor still wanted me but he didn’t have time to wait for me. Lyor needed a big act to take the ride on the platinum path that he would lay out. Time never waits when you got paper to make. Steve Gottlieb was blocking my shit. All I could do was sit and wait for my own five-year sentence to end, just like Black’s. When anyone signs a group deal, it forever solidifies that relationship. This means that if something happens to one person in the group, it impacts everyone in the group. I learned that it is important to make sure that my individual creative rights are protected.
WHILE I WAS IN A HOLDING PATTERN, waiting for Steve Gottlieb to realize that Cash Money Click was no longer, Lyor had no choice but to sign DMX. DMX’s first album sold five million records and 250,000 copies in the first week. “Ruff Ryder’s Anthem,” which was a collaboration with X’s crew, was also a hit, selling another five million copies. DMX’s people were The Lox, Drag-On, and another female MC, Eve. Gotti could do no wrong.
I first met X in Mulford Gardens. It was a crazy project to live in. I couldn’t believe people actually lived like that. The windows were all broken out. It was crazy. X was rhyming. He had recently gotten beat up, so his jaw was wired shut. While he was rapping, the wires were popping out everywhere. We were all spitting. Me, Lox and X. Afterward, when I was done rhyming, X said, “Little nigga, get busy.” It is important to know that X don’t usually give it up to no one. He’s a tough give. At the time, though, the compliment didn’t mean much to me because X wasn’t famous yet. He was popular on the streets. X was a mixed-tape legend in Yonkers. When X first got signed to Def Jam, folks were joking, “Who is going to buy his album—dogs!” Whenever he went to the offices at the label, he would bring his two dogs inside. He was a loose cannon, but he came out and smashed it.
DMX was a good dude, and a good friend, but the drugs changed him. He was doing all kinds of shit, like missing shows, video shoots and interviews.
I remember one time I got locked up because of X. We were recording at Quad. We came back from the store. A guy downstairs was selling watches.
“What you doing with my brother’s watch? That’s my brother’s watch right there,” X said.
Next thing I knew, X knocked the guy out and robbed the guy for the watches. He was famous. Why was he robbing people? While we were trying to get upstairs, back into the studio, the watch guy was downstairs calling the police. The receptionist warned us that the police were on their way up just in case we had weed or something. X hid behind the reel to reel. I was like, I gotta get the fuck out of here. I b-line for the stairs because I thought the police would be coming up in the elevator. As I made my move, I saw that they were coming up the stairs and were on the elevator. The police had the watch guy with them. As they run into me, they ask the watch guy who robbed him.
“Is this one of the guys that robed you?” the police asked, as they ran into me.
“Yes, him, right there.”
The police had their man. They were going to look no further. X hid and I went to central booking. When I called Irv, at Def Jam, they came and got me from the precinct.
That’s just one of me and X’s escapades. Another time we were out in Miami. My music was out, so we were both big. We were down there for a music conference. X wanted to go and get some weed. The man drives like a maniac. He believes he has to beat everybody on the road. There are millions of cars on the road, and he thinks he has to beat every one of them. It’s like he’s in a race. The police pull us over.
“This ain’t really my car. It’s Keizer’s car,” X says.
“All that sound good, but ya’ll ain’t going nowhere in this car. It is not registered to you.”
“That’s cool. Whatever,” X said, as he got out of the car. “Don’t worry Rule, I got this.”
Standing on the side of the highway, X proceeds to stick out his thumb. Immediately, a girl stops. She is so excited that she takes us to her mother’s house to brag. Her mama wanted to cook us food.
Gotti had a vision for me, X and Jay-Z to be a supergroup. I went on the road with X. Next, Def Jam sent me to France with Redman, Method Man and Onyx. We were freestyling on the radio and no one spoke English. Those French guys who were at the station were freestyling right along with us. They were dope. We didn’t understand what we were saying but their flow was right on point. That experience showed me that we were making art. We could feel it. And they felt us, too.
THE OTHER NEW KID, Shawn Carter from Brooklyn, who called himself Jay-Z, wore a New York Yankees baseball cap on his head. He wore a crisp white T-shirt and a leather jacket and Tims. Plain as he was, he just looked successful. It was hard to explain. His confidence was unforgettable. Damon Dash and Biggs were his partners at the start-up label, Roc-A-Fella Records. Jay-Z was a flashy guy with big ideas and a bigger ego.
Jay-Z thought that the only way to get things done was with dough. He had already had success with his first indie release, Reasonable Doubt. Jay-Z was curious about how to get his record played at radio stations across the country. Gotti told him that the best radio guy in the business was Kevin Liles and suggested that he go see him.
“What the fuck is this? Is it Christmas?” Liles asked him.
Jay-Z had admired Def Jam’s radio domination. He wanted that for his own label. He thought the loot was going to get him what he wanted. They all laughed. “It doesn’t work like that, man,” Liles told him and then he explained how shit did work.
I had written a song for my solo album called “Can I Get A . . .” Jay-Z liked that shit and asked if he could have it. I thought that would be okay as long as he let me be on the track and in the video. In exchange, Jay-Z agreed to do a record on my album, “Kill ’Em All.” “Can I Get A . . .” turned out to be a big hit partly because it went on the Rush Hour soundtrack.
IRV WAS PRIMING ME for my own album to drop the following year by having me work with Jay-Z and DMX. It
was a win-win. For me, it was my coming-out party, and for Jay-Z, it was a big radio smash.
With the guest appearance on “Can I Get A . . .” I was able to start doing appearances with Jay-Z. The first time we performed that song, it was at the Tunnel. Everything was coming full circle. Not too long ago, I had been at the Tunnel watching Big and Pac. Now, here I was about to perform a record with Jay-Z. I had no idea Jay-Z would do that record that night. He was doing “22 Two’s” and then he went to “Can I Get A . . .” He waves at me to come up on the stage. There were so many people between me and the stage. I wasn’t sure if I could get to it. Next thing I know, my friend BJ picked me up, and the crowd passed me to the stage like a blunt. When I got on stage, the spotlight I was longing for was finally mine.
The local clubs loved that shit, having two of their own MCs that had a record coming out to perform live.
The club was crowded and the fans gave us mad love. The first time I did a show with Jay-Z was like a blur. Aisha was extremely excited for me. I remember her faith in me clearly. I smoked an extra blunt, drank and got nice. My dream was about to come true. Even though I was on someone else’s stage, it felt like my own.
The video shoot for “Can I Get A . . .” was cool. It was in another club in Manhattan and it was packed with everyone dressed up like it was a party even though it was ten in the morning. The video was a collage of images of Jay-Z and Amil and some fly-ass dancers intercut with scenes from Rush Hour with Chris Tucker and Jackie Chan. I was sprinkled throughout the video and did a verse. Everything was going great with the video, except I didn’t have my own identity. I was seen as “the guy with J.”
“I see you back there doing pushups in the back. What are you like under there?” the director Brett Ratner asked, referring to my six pack.
“I’m all right.”
“Why don’t you do a take with no shirt?”
At first I was hesitant, I thought I looked great in my new flashy clothes. But the problem was they didn’t give me no presence.
When the video aired, everybody wanted to know who was the rapper at the end of the video. Me. In essence, taking off my shirt was the best thing I could have ever done. That was the night I became Ja Rule, not the guy on J’s record. It gave me an identity. After that I don’t think I ever put on a shirt again.
The film was directed by Brett Ratner, who was a young Jewish kid who had been doing hip-hop videos until he got his big break directing movies like Money Talks with Chris Tucker and then Rush Hour. He was another young guy doing his thing, which made me all the more impatient. It was difficult watching other talented people get theirs. I was happy to see them make moves because it meant I was in the right place, associating with the right people. It was challenging being patient.
Luckily, the Rush Hour soundtrack was a hit and I was slowly becoming somebody. It was so close I could taste it.
I WAS LATER OFFERED A ROLE in a movie, Turn It Up, with Pras from the Fugees. Doing the movie meant a good little paycheck. It was about the drug game and the music game. It wasn’t a stretch because I had lived the shady shit that goes down with the music industry and the streets and understood how the two are always connected.
Right before my album dropped in 1999, we were about to go out on the Hard Knock Life Tour. We all felt good about the album, except I didn’t have a single that could be played on the radio. A hot single playing on the radio helps to draw attention to albums. One of the producers came to me with a slamming beat. I listened to it for a bit then came up “Holla Holla.” This is where my double flow comes from. It was Jimmy Two Times from A Bronx Tale that planted the concept in me. Yeah, yeah . . . I couldn’t believe it but I was actually going on tour with the MCs that I’d been admiring for years. The legendary Hard Knock Life Tour in 1999 included DMX, Jay-Z, Redman, Method Man, Beanie Sigel, DJ Clue?, Memphis Bleek and Amil. They even made a documentary about that shit called Backstage. This was the first hip-hop tour since Fresh Fest in 1984. It was fifteen years between the two tours. Until Hard Knock, arenas were not willing to pay the high price of insurance to secure hip-hop acts and audience. That’s why it was a big deal. We preached to our crowds to keep it clean.
THE TOUR WAS UNBELIEVABLE. I can’t even express what it’s like to have twenty thousand muthafuckas a night, in fifty cities across the country, come to check us out. I’ll always remember the powerful impact it had on me to be standing on a stage looking down at kids of all colors who knew every lyric we spit. It was life-changing for all of us because we were getting the mad love we had missed in our hard-knock-life realities. Almost everywhere you look, and everything you read, tells you that Black men ain’t nothing. But, when we’re on that stage it’s not true. When we’re on that stage, everybody wants to be us and be with us.
As time went on and I was on stage more and more, the feeling became more and more powerful. It gave me an incredible charge. I felt invincible, loved. I was Superman. I was on top of the world. When I had all of these people I didn’t know screaming my name, or whatever I told them to holler, it played with my mind. “Throw your hands up! Say, ‘Yeah, yeah!’” This is how the industry creates its egomaniacs. It’s how Kanye West can say that he’s God. I get it. I understand the feeling. But people are not comfortable with a Black man calling himself God. But, we’re taught in the Bible that we’re made in His image. And how we should live our lives in accordance with God’s words. So, what’s wrong with Kanye saying that. Aren’t we all God’s children. Our gifts are a blessing, but it’s up to us to use them productively, and not take them for granted or even abuse them.
Being onstage made me want to live, too. Most Black men think that we’re going to die young, because that’s what we see around us—a lot of unnecessary killing. Performing affirmed my life. It gave me more of a reason to want to live.
After coming off the Hard Knock Life Tour, it was time to shoot my second single, “Murda 4 Life.” We shot it on Jamaica Avenue. The whole hood came out to support. The video was originally suppose to feature Memphis Bleek, but for some reason he wasn’t cleared to do the video. Which never made sense to me considering we were all under the same umbrella. He was on Roc-A-Fella and I was on Murder Inc. Both were subsidiaries of Def Jam. We ended up putting Black Child and Cadillac Tah on the record. During the shooting of the video, 50 showed up. According to him, he came to say “What’s up?” to me, and I didn’t show him enough love. I gave him a “what up” and kept it moving. I think he was jealous because Black Child was on the record and not him. The hood was showing me love and not him. Shortly after, he recorded a diss record about me, “Murder, I Don’t Believe You.” This is how it all started.
“Your man got a song about me. What’s up with your man?” I asked Black Child.
“Yeah, I heard about it. I don’t fuck with that nigga,” said Black Child. “But, when I see him, I’m going to holla at him.”
The next time Black saw 50 he asked him what’s up with the record. 50 said, “Ain’t no hard feelings. It’s just a record. I’m trying to get me out there.” He was basically copping pleas. I didn’t think nothing else about it.
*
August 30, 2011
I’ve been down now going on 4 months, another 16 to go. I’m not gonna lie I hate this shit. I hate being told what to do, when to go to bed, when I can go outside. I feel like I’m 10 years old again, LOL. But I’m in a good headspace, been studying to take my GED. I haven’t been to school in like 15 years. You’d be amazed at all the shit you forget in that time, especially math. But I’m getting it done. I’m mad and sad I’m not home wit the family these past few weeks wit all that’s been going on, the earthquake, Hurricane Irene. This shit doesn’t happen normally on the East Coast. I was worried about Ish and the kids. Thank God we didn’t get hit that hard in my area and everyone is safe. The week before my grandmother, Bruce and Dawn came to see me wit Ish and my Mom. I was glad they came. I had a good time talking about old times and the family. I learned a
lot about my family and I’m not the first to be in prison, but hopefully I will be the last. My Moms hip was looking real bad on the visit. The doctor said she’s gonna need a hip replacement. She’s a lil scared. I spoke to her a few days ago and she started crying. I love my Mom and we’re really close. She’s very sensitive. I told her there’s nothing to be scared of and not to worry, she’ll be running in no time. LOL. It made her feel better. she said she was also sad that she wouldn’t be able to see me for a while. But for me her health is all that matters.
I watched MTV Awards Sunday. It was cool. I think LaLa had the best performance. Music is just not the same without me. LOL. Can’t wait to get out and record. Fuck Fame, my last album. I’m gonna make it a double, then I think I should retire. After seeing how everyone was dressed at the awards, I think I’m getting too old for this shit. LOL. HOLLYWOOD HERE I COME! And I’m bringing Britt wit me.
*
NINE
What’s Beef?
IT WAS 1999, I WAS TWENTY-THREE YEARS OLD AND MY FIRST joint, Venni Vetti Vecci, was out. We were number two on the charts, and I had a huge radio hit, “Holla Holla,” which was blasting out of every car on the streets and keeping the CD on the list. I had just released my second single, “Murda 4 Life.” (Venni Vetti Vecci went on to sell 2 million copies total, but the interesting thing is that the first week it came out, it sold 187,000 copies, and 187 is the LA police code for murder. Me and Irv Gotti thought it was a sign from God that our time had come. It’s murder had finally become a reality.)
Hell yeah, I came, I saw and I conquered.
Gotti’s strategy had always been to share a little of each of his hot rappers on everybody’s joints so we would all benefit from the repeat name recognition. At that time, all of Irv’s artists had nothing but love and respect for each other. We all came up together. We were all selling albums, doing shows and we were all getting paid. But that didn’t seem to be enough.
