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Hip-hop/Spirituality/Freethinking. Speaking for all underdogs!

Chris Brown: Summoning the Pseudo-Gangsta Ghost of Tupac.

Chris Brown: Summoning the Pseudo-Gangsta Ghost of Tupac.

By Khalil Amani

Real heads know the story. Tupac had no business stomping out a Crip gang member on the floor of the MGM! He sealed his fate with that bone-headed attempt at gangsterism. Tupac was not a gangster and Tupac was not a thug in the strictest street sense. He created a philosophy called “Thug Life”—incomprehensible to real street thugs and gang bangers. Aligning & affiliating himself with Bloods and acktin’ all tough was Tupac’s demise. Real life is not “Bishop” in the movie, “Juice” who dies a tragic death and then Tupac takes off his costume and gets ready for the next movie roll. Real life is giving someone the “hard bottom special" (stomped out like Katt Williams) and the beaten upped returns with a hail of fire from semiautomatic weaponry.

Tupac was the son & nephew of Black Panther revolutionaries—Afeni & Assata Shakur! Tupac was a student of acting, dance & music at Baltimore’s School of the Arts who later went on to become a backup dancer with Digital Underground.

All that later gangster shit that Tupac immersed himself in was an aberration—a wandering away from the highly intelligent, well-read, thought-provoking, artistic and socially conscious person of his upbringing. Dare I say Tupac robbed us of his gift with the fuckery? He straight “CB4'ed" us! (Go watch the movie about fake gangsterism.)

Speaking of CB4—The new C.B.4 is Chris Brown. (How coincidental that his initials are C.B.?)

The saying is, ”Those who don’t know history are doomed to repeat it.” Have you seen and read the gangsterism spewing from Chris Brown’s Twitter fingers? Aside from being a grammatical mess—a literary cluster-fuck of carefully contrived bad Anglish—Chris Brown has summoned, yea, conjured up the ghost of Tupac’s pseudo gangsterism. Does not CB understand HISTORY? Why is CB talking all that reckless Blood shit? Besides the fact that he might “write a check that his ass can’t cash”—not to mention that he has the wherewithal to remove himself from any fuckery connected to the streets—his mouf, Twitter fingers (or, in this case, Instagram fingers) and actions gon’ get him murked!

A rant his mother would not be proud of. A hate-filled diatribe sprinkled with a dash of homophobia via the "broke back" (mountain) "Botty man" and "down low." How original!

Tupac’s life was the template. Like Tupac, Chris Brown ain’t no real gangsta (unless I’m sorely misinformed.)

Did I miss something here? Let me get this straight! Chris was 16 years old when he struck pay-dirt with his hit, “Run It.” Before that, lil Chris was doing local talent shows and singing in the church choir (At least that’s what his Wiki page tells us.) Now he’s this Blood gang banger that threatens people “On 500 Block Piru?” (And just where is this set? Virginia?) I wanna know who is responsible for putting Chris on the set! Who jumped him in? Was it before “Run It”—before he was 16? Did he leave church in a pair of hard-bottoms and a crisp button-up shirt and gang bang between choir rehearsals? Did he ever do a drive-by with the homies? How ‘bout a B&E or a rumble in the park against a Crip set? I’d really like to peruse Chris’s gangster resume’! I mean, this guy has some major multitasking skills! Or! Alas! Could it be that C.B. is CB4’ing us?

I would’ve thunk that the whole Rhianna shit-uation would've chilled Chris out from having to deal with the law, but this guy is itching for an extended stay at one of America’s finest penal institutions—or a dirt-nap in the cemetery! 

Maybe Chris is being extorted? Why else would he cozy up to a Blood set? Please, please, please, please—who ever is in this young man’s ear—straighten him out. We have enough on our hands with the fuckery of Katt Williams—a five-foot-nothing-imp who thinks he’s nice with his hands and gangsterism. Chris Brown—you are not “about that life!” You only think you are! Stop it! Let the pseudo-gangsterism of Tupac rest. I know you think you’re a better gangster than you are an artist, but, er ah, anybody can get-gotten. Beating up a chick and punching a gay R&B star in a studio parking lot doesn’t exactly qualify you as hardened gang member. Be better! Want better! You have a child to raise. This gangster shit will end in one of three ways—catching a case, getting molly-whopped for talking reckless or losing your life in Tupac-esque fashion. Learn from history and govern your life accordingly. I hate to play Negrodumas in these instances.

Now I'm gonna sip on this tea and immerse my mind into deep reading. Bless you son.

Khalil Amani, old-head, raconteur for Straight Stuntin Magazine, and any website that wants to pilfers his words. IG @Khalil_amani, FB, Twitter @khalilamani

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