by Nikki Turner
“Sasha, let me call you back.” JJ hung up the phone and strolled toward the TV.
When JJ got within eyesight of the screen, he couldn’t believe what he saw. “That’s Trapp!” Some of the guys heard him. JJ was ecstatic at first to see Trapp on TV, until he listened closer to the words of the song.
“Yo, that’s my shit! That’s my rhyme!” JJ suddenly got angry. “How the fuck is this nigga spitting my rhymes?”
He stood and listened to Trapp spit the verses right from his precious rhyme book. JJ couldn’t believe what was happening. He was actually standing in jail watching his rival get the credit and the money from his work. JJ took pride in the songs he wrote.
Solomon saw JJ’s expression while he watched TV. “What’s happening? Why the long face?”
“He stole my rhymes.” Tears of anger were welling up in JJ’s eyes. “I use to get money with that dude, and now he is spitting my songs on national TV.”
“Wow, that’s serious, my man.” Solomon always had something wise to say, but this time he didn’t know what to say besides, “Don’t let this situation get you down, there is still a chance for you to turn this around.”
“Turn it around! First my lawyer tells me to cop out because my fingerprints are on the gun. Then I look at the TV and my enemy is spitting my songs. What’s next?” JJ said in an angry tone.
“I hear you, my man, but one thing is for sure. As long as you have life, things can change for the better.”
“Yeah, whatever. I’m going to my cell. I’ll see you tomorrow.” JJ moped his way to his cell. He was hurt beyond belief.
What else can go wrong? he asked himself.
Chapter 10
Big was laid back as he rode in his vintage 1989 Cadillac Deville. It was gold with spoked rims and a system that knocked like he was in a club. Ever since the day that JJ gave Big a copy of his CD, that was all Big played.
“I’m telling you man, JJ Gates is the truth. Cats ain’t fucking with my boy,” Big said to Vic, who was riding in the passenger seat.
“I don’t know, Big, there’s this new cat out named Trapp. Trapp’s album is the hottest album out.”
“I never heard of him.”
“I got his CD in my pocket.”
Vic took out the CD. Big ejected JJ’s CD and inserted Trapp’s CD. As Big listened to Trapp’s lyrics, he unconsciously started singing along with him. He knew all the words to his song.
“Yo, that’s my man JJ’s shit! I know all his shit, that’s all I been listening to.”
Another song came on and Big sang along with the second song, and then the third song.
“Something isn’t right, how the fuck is this cat Trapp spitting JJ’s rhymes?” Big was baffled.
“You got a point, how the fuck is he spitting JJ’s rhymes, unless JJ stole Trapp’s rhymes.”
“I doubt it because JJ’s shit been out, and he’s been in the county jail, I had his CD for like three months now.”
Big was determined to get to the bottom of it. He had a feeling that JJ was the victim, not Trapp. Big knew that JJ was locked up, that he had no control over the situation. Big wanted to help JJ in any way he could.
“I’m going to blow this cat Trapp up at the radio station,” Big decided.
Big’s best friend was the top DJ at Power 91.5 in Richmond. “Let me give DJ Real a call.” Big pulled out his cellphone and dialed DJ Real’s number. “What’s good, DJ Real?”
“Nothing, just working. What’s good with you?”
“You heard of this new cat, Trapp?”
“Who hasn’t, he’s the hottest rapper out right now.”
“He’s a thief. All his songs are stolen from this rapper named JJ Gates. I have his CD. Trapp has the same lyrics on his album.”
“How do you know that JJ didn’t steal Trapp’s lyrics?”
“I had JJ Gates’s CD for months before Trapp came out. And I’m sure that JJ recorded the songs months before that.”
“You might be onto something. Come up to the station and let me hear this JJ Gates.”
Big made a U-turn and headed for the radio station. When he arrived, he heard Trapp’s music playing on air. He saw his man DJ Real and he led him to an office.
“Now, let me hear this JJ Gates cat.” DJ Real took the CD from Big’s hand and inserted it into a CD player. After a few listens, DJ Real noticed the same lyrics. “You’re right, they do have the same lyrics. That’s crazy. I think I’m going to talk about this on my show tonight, to see what the people think.”
“I’m telling you, Real, my man JJ Gates is a gangster. He locked up right now for blasting Chopper’s arm off and selling weight.”
“Well, let’s see what the people have to say.”
DJ Real played JJ’s songs and then played Trapp’s music. “Anyone out there that has a comment, call two-two-two two-seven-seven-seven, and let me know who you think the originator is and who’s the thief.”
The phone lines lit up. People from all over Richmond called with their opinions.
“This Half Dead from Jackson Ward. I know that nigga JJ Gates. He gave me his CD, that’s all I’ve been bumping. This cat Trapp is an imposter. JJ Gates is the truth,” said one caller.
“I’m from Jackson Ward, too, I been playing JJ Gates’s songs. He gave it to me one day, I think JJ is the truth.”
Ten people from Jackson Ward called up to support JJ. He gave out a hundred CDs in the Jackson Ward projects for free. The whole Jackson Ward Projects was feeling JJ Gates.
“Wow, you was right, Big. This needs to be taken national. This was the highest ratings that my show has had in a month.”
DJ Real sent out an email blast to all the major radio stations in America. They all requested a copy of DJ Real’s “Real or Not” radio show that exposed Trapp as an imposter.
A week later the whole industry was talking about Trapp being an imposter. His quick rise to fame was falling even faster. His record sales began to decline. That’s when Ronald from University Records requested a meeting with Trapp and his whole staff. He had to do some damage control.
“It doesn’t matter at this point if you stole his rhymes or not, we have five hundred thousand records in stores that have to be bought. I’m scheduling a press conference for you today. You better convince them that those fucking rhymes are yours or everything I gave you will be back in my possession so fast you’ll think it’s magic.”
Trapp knew Ronald was serious. “Yo, Ron, those are my fucking rhymes. I know how he recorded those songs, I left my rhyme book at his house and he went to the studio. I know him, he was never a rapper. He stole my shit!” Trapp was becoming a good actor. He knew he had to be to save his career.
“You don’t have to convince me, go out there and convince the media. Like I said, I could care less who wrote the lyrics, as long as we sell records.”
Trapp went to the press conference and did the best acting he ever did in his life. He convinced the press that he was a victim of plagiarism.
“I will prove that this JJ Gates character is an imposter. I will do a whole new album, then we’ll see who the imposter really is.”
That was a bold attempt to prove his point, and Trapp knew it. He couldn’t write rhymes, Trapp could barely read and write. He just needed something to say to convince the world that he was telling the truth.
The middle-aged woman stared at the TV screen as Trapp spoke. She knew exactly who he was even though Trapp had no idea who she was. Tears welled up in the woman’s eyes as she stared. She took a swig of the powerful 151-proof rum and wiped tears from her cheeks.
“I have to tell him,” she said to herself. “He has to know.”
JJ had become a celebrity in the county jail since DJ Real aired his show. Young men on his tier asked him questions about the whole situation. He would often have six men around him while he told his story.
“This dude Trapp worked for me and my man Dee. He was a bum before he got with us. I don’t know how he got
my rhyme book, but he did.”
“Yo, JJ!” a young stocky kid yelled out. “Yo this guy Trapp is on TV talking about you.”
The group of men all ran to the TV to see Trapp tell his side of the story. JJ hated to see Trapp, he was shining off of his hard work.
“I will do a whole new album, then we’ll see who the imposter really is.”
“This nigga is fronting! He can’t even spell, how the fuck you going to write a whole album. I want to see this,” JJ said in a hyped tone.
Everyone in the county jail was riding with JJ Gates. He was the star behind bars, but Trapp was traveling the world as an international star. JJ didn’t show it, but inside he was hurt.
His case was still looking bad. Sasha was still working hard to get JJ off, but it still didn’t look good for him.
Sasha kept having JJ’s court dates adjourned so she could find something to acquit him. She was working around the clock trying to find some evidence.
I know there has to be some witness or something to prove JJ’s innocence, Sasha thought to herself. Let me go back to the scene of the crime one more time, I know there is something I overlooked.
Sasha went back to Jackson Ward Projects to canvass the area for the thousandth time. She looked around at everything. She walked slowly around the area where the alleged victim was shot.
“I know there was someone watching.”
She looked up at the windows that were facing the scene, and that’s when she saw the savior of JJ’s life. The one thing that could free her love from certain incarceration.
“That’s it!” Sasha shouted. “I have to get that footage.”
On every building at the top corners, there were surveillance cameras. There were at least three facing the exact circumference of the incident.
Sasha followed the signs that pointed to the security office. She quickly dashed toward the office.
“Excuse me, I’m Sasha Cohen, I’m a lawyer. I need to speak to someone in charge.”
“Hold on one minute, Mr. Charles will be right with you.”
The young man disappeared into an office. Two minutes later he came out.
“You can go in, Mr. Charles will see you now.”
Sasha took a deep breath before entering the office.
“Let’s see what we have.”
Mr. Charles sat behind a desk. When he saw Sasha his eyes lit up and he stood to greet her. “How are you today Mrs.—”
“Hi, I’m Sasha Cohen, I’m a lawyer at Simpson & Simon. I’m representing a client that was falsely arrested in the south side of the projects. I saw security cameras pointing directly at the location where the alleged incident took place. Is it possible for me to view the footage from that day?”
“Sure, sweetheart, I’m always willing to help a damsel in distress.” Mr. Charles showed her a snaggle-toothed smile.
Sasha smiled back. “Thank you, Mr. Charles.”
“Just give me the date and time of the incident and I can type it into the computer. I love technology, back in the day they didn’t have things like this.”
Mr. Charles went on and on about technology, while Sasha stood nervously and impatiently. She couldn’t wait to see the footage, she knew it was possible that it could free her new love interest.
“Okay, here we go.” He turned the screen around so she could see it also.
The first image on the screen was JJ walking into a building, then Chopper creeping from behind an adjacent building. Then JJ coming out of the building and Chopper putting the AK-47 to JJ’s temple. Then JJ slowly handing Chopper a brown paper bag, then Cannon comes from behind a building opposite JJ and Chopper and lets off three shots. Then Chopper’s shoulder gets hit and as he is falling back from the impact, he lets off six rounds. Then the fatal blows to Cannon’s chest and neck. “Damn!” Mr. Charles shouted. Sasha squeamishly turned her head to the side.
JJ slowly walked up to Cannon, looked down, then comes the officer with his weapon pointed at JJ, then JJ fainted.
Then something happens that both Sasha and Mr. Charles couldn’t believe. The officer picks up the 40-caliber, takes JJ’s hand while he’s unconscious, and puts it around the gun’s handle.
“Wow, now ain’t that some shit?” Mr. Charles said in a comedic tone.
Sasha was at a loss for words. “He told me that he never touched the gun and he didn’t.”
Sasha couldn’t believe what she just saw. “I have to get a copy of this footage, a man’s life is at stake.”
“You got it.” Mr. Charles burned the footage onto a disc. “Here you go. Good luck.”
“Thank you.”
Sasha headed straight for the DA’s office with the evidence that would get all JJ’s charges dismissed.
“I’m coming to get you out, baby,” Sasha said to herself as she stepped on the gas.
When Sasha arrived at the courthouse, she went directly to the DA’s office with the footage. When the DA viewed the footage, she couldn’t believe her eyes.
“Listen, I will release him today and drop all the charges, even though the tape shows him with the drugs in the bag, on one condition.”
“What is it?”
“I want him to sign a waiver saying that he won’t sue us for unlawful imprisonment, and this whole matter will disappear. But the officer will be arrested for his actions.”
“I think my client will have no problem with that. I want the immediate release of Jamal Jenkins.”
“He will be out in one hour.”
Sasha couldn’t believe that she got JJ off. She had butterflies in her stomach just thinking about being with her new man. They’d established a serious relationship in the past few months. Sasha knew that JJ was sincere about being with her, he would be especially now that she’d gotten his charges dropped.
“Jamal Jenkins!” the CO shouted. “Roll up. You’re getting released in one hour!”
JJ couldn’t believe what he just heard. “You’re joking, right, CO?”
“Listen, you can stay here if you want to, I’m only telling you what they told me.”
Solomon was standing next to JJ when he got the news. “I told you that things turn around. You’re a good dude, JJ, stay focused when you’re out there. And don’t worry about that clown Trapp, he will get his in the end, trust me. Spend time with your family, get cool with your father again.”
“You right, I let my family down and, oh yeah, I got something for Trapp, I’m going to do it the right way.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” Solomon handed JJ a book. “I want you to have this book. It’s called Stolen Legacy, by George G. M. James. This is an outline of how the Greeks plagiarized African philosophy and science. Study it, and teach those that need to know. Do that for me.”
“No doubt, brother. It has been real building with you, I learnt a lot from you, Solomon. I will keep in touch with you.”
“I already know.” They gave each other a brotherly hug.
It didn’t take JJ any time to get ready for release. He gave Solomon all of his property, and he headed for the front gate. When he got there he saw Sasha standing with open arms and tears of joy running down her cheeks.
“I did it, baby.” She hugged him so tight that he let out a sigh. “I got your charges dropped. I will tell you all about it, but first we have to go to the DA’s office so you can sign a waiver not to sue them. Is that okay with you?”
“I will sign whatever they want me to as long as this shit goes away. The nightmare is over.”
“Yes, baby, it’s over. Now we can start a life together.”
“I love you, Sasha. If it wasn’t for you I would be doing a lot of time. Thank you, baby.” JJ kissed her lips passionately.
“Let’s go before I jump on you out here.” Sasha was aroused by JJ’s kiss.
JJ walked hand-in-hand with his new queen to her car. They rode off with plans of being together for life.
Chapter 11
The press conference did excellent damag
e control for Trapp’s career. The people accepted his version of the story. Now it was back to business for Trapp.
Trapp was at the end of his fourth thirty-city tour. He was not Hood Rich anymore, Trapp was a multimillionaire. Trapp made three hundred thousand off this tour, he made three hundred thousand off each of the three other tours, equaling one point two million dollars in tour money alone. When you add the money he gained from the endorsements he got from major clothing companies, and many other corporations bent on capitalizing from his image, he’d grossed ten million in six months.
Trapp bought a six-million-dollar mansion in East Hampton, Long Island, sitting on two acres of beachfront property. His garage held the Maserati that University gave him, plus a Range Rover Sport, a Lamborghini Murciélago, and a yacht sat on a dock in his backyard.
Trapp wore so much ice that people couldn’t help but stare at him. Trapp stayed draped in the finest designer wear you could imagine. He walked around with thirty thousand cash in his pockets just to show off. He was living the life of his dreams.
“Fuck that bitch-ass nigga, JJ. He trying to come up off me like I’m some lame,” he said to the beautiful Brazilian riding shotgun in his Lamborghini. “Everybody know that I’m nice with the mic device.” He made an attempt to say a rhyme, but it was corny. Even Miss Brazil noticed it.
After Trapp did the press conference, he made efforts to rhyme, but even he knew he was wack. He didn’t care as long as his bank account was packed with money.
“I’m taking you to Brazil with me next week, I know that’s where you’re from, but fuck it.”
“You know I’m with whatever.” She knew he was a trick so she agreed with everything he said as long as he set her out with money. “Baby, what happened to the diamond bracelet you were getting me, I want it for the trip to Brazil.”
“We can go get it today.”
“Thank you, baby.” She leaned across the seat and began to unbutton his True Religion jeans. She pulled out his penis and started to suck it while he drove.
