Before I start here, I want to make sure my daughter, Juliana, STOPS now. This song is not appropriate for you, so don't read this post.
I was introduced to N.W.A. while I was in college. I enjoyed their music, and its hard edge - remember, hip hop was all about Run D.M.C. and sucka M.C.s in the late 80's and early 90's - clean and boastful. This was not clean, and it went beyond boastful to somewhat threatening. But, as critically acclaimed as it was, I always felt a little guilty listening to this. You know, because I am a white boy, as far from this Compton experience as I could be.
And I could never sing along with the song. I couldn't even speak what N.W.A. stands for. I still can't, but you all know.
As it turns out, most of these guys really weren't from the streets of Compton, either. Let's be honest - they were and are musicians, not really gangsters. Still, they spoke of that experience and sounded like they had some sort of authority to do so.
I'd be incomplete in my posting if I didn't included Nina Gordon's cover. Parody? Or tribute? I'm not entirely sure.
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