Kingpin music was the hill Rick Ross would die on, and prove he was born for. No matter where a spectator landed on the scandal, Teflon Don was an album so damn good, it couldвЂ™ve made RossвЂ™ worst detractors reconsider how much they cared after all. By yearвЂ™s end, Ross would give an unforgettable performance on Kanye WestвЂ™s вЂњDevil in a New DressвЂќ on the seminal My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. (BlowinвЂ™ Money Fast).вЂќ The latter two records not only went down as Ross signatures, but immutable additions to a tapestry of mainstream rap that embraced maximalism until it brimmed over the bassline. This prequel tape featured the worldвЂ™s introduction to Teflon DonвЂ™s first single вЂњSuper High,вЂќ and the Lex Luger two-piece of вЂњMC HammerвЂќ and вЂњB.M.F. The bit continued: months before the album dropped, he primed listeners with The Albert Anastasia EP, borrowing yet another namesake from the boss of the Gamino crime family. Yet again, under the scrutiny of the remnants of several cartel legacies, Roberts made the choice to stay fully in character even if the truth of his experiences dangled in limbo under the veil of his persona. Even Carmine Agnello, Jr., the grandson of John Gotti, had many bones to pick with Roberts using the infamous Gotti nickname without asking permission. But this homage wouldnвЂ™t go unchallenged, either: former kingpin Freeway Rick Ross attempted to sue Roberts and block the albumвЂ™s release, but the case was thrown out. The namesake called back to RobertsвЂ™s first rap name - back when he was studying under Tony Draper and Suave House - and served as symbolism for how untouchable he felt in a long life of scrutiny and survival. By Summer 2010, Rick Ross assembled what many call his magnum opus: Teflon Don. Summer 2008 couldвЂ™ve been the year he lost everything. The worst thing about a lie is once youвЂ™ve put it out there youвЂ™ve got to dig your heels into it and keep it up. вЂњNow I wasnвЂ™t just being called an imposter. Because the moment anyone got close enough to smell the cloth that I was cut from, they knew that I was trained to go.вЂќ (p. No girl had ever denied me pussy and no nigga had ever stepped on my toes over me being a correctional officer.

вЂњAnyone who was close enough to me to know about this would know better than to call my credibility into question. If he couldnвЂ™t work the dock, he could sit in boredom while dreaming of better things. job as another plug in the long game when street hustling was on the verge of drying up. Sure, he had a job once, but beat cop he was not. After the very moment that jeopardized his career, Ross fought back with records until he lived long enough to regret the double-down. Not to mention a significant upturn in critical opinion, marking his growth as an orator to match the luxurious consistencies of his beat selections. No matter how good Ross can spin the fast life, the fantasies dry out when past realities donвЂ™t align.Д«ut Ross warred back in the same fashion, and once the smoke cleared, Deeper Than Rap made for a three-peat at the No. No matter the truth, exposure of ties to state corrections directly violates the contract. Records, interviews, and ThisIs50 skits all in the name of rooting out Ross as a rat with no street credibility and a damaged home life. The true victor of that beef remains up for debate - actually, it never truly resolved - but the nickname Officer Ricky rang off in the blogosphere as 50 levied an all-out assault on RossвЂ™ character. As time elapsed, the boundaries of this spectrum became far more fluid and conditional on their own.ДЄngered and defeated, Ross doubled down even further into his image, with no way of knowing that 50 Cent would be at his head the following year. Nevertheless, itвЂ™s either real, true, trillвЂ¦ or fake, fugazi, cap. These efforts come in many fashions, tempos, and accents. The most premium trauma lingers everywhere we fraternize: the car subwoofer, the regular club, the strip club, the schoolyard. Time and again, survivors of traumatic conditions parlay artful renditions of their experiences into the soundtrack of the American Dream to the victor goes the spoils, while the memories remain. OneвЂ™s authenticity is measured by their involvement in illicit activities, proximity to the struggles of poverty, and their abilities to articulate these conditions in a palatable fashion. rap music, the process takes root in the ongoing commodification of Black trauma as the lifeblood of entertainment. Considering gangsta rap as a social contract, the speakers we elevate are granted conditional entry based on the perceived authenticity of their stories.

Rick ross big meech larry hoover