fast food rappers...

This is the story, the true story, of 2 guys, who tried skip college and become rappers.

For those readers who are not aware, your boi Nanni and I in high school were budding rap superstars. As resident gangstas of Hillsborough High School, we often wrote lyrics in class. It was pretty much fun and games. That was until I saved up over $400 from my after-school job and bought a turntable, mixer, microphone, and some classic records. At that time, I could not afford the second turn table, and it was another 4 months of so until I was able to buy that.

It was at this time that I began using the moniker DJ 2Scoopz. Nanni went by many slightly lame rap names until settling on Dirty Wordz (an homage to Ol' Dirty Bastard). We began recording some tracks, Nanni could really ride the beat, he spit hot flame, believe it. I was kind of abstract(read Beastie Boyesque), and I also scratched on the tracks. We dubbed ourselves Hawstage Sityiashun (phonetically southern spelling of Hostage Situation) and created our label as Rent-a-Cop Records, named after a ridiculously good headlock I would put people in. (see below for sample lyrics)

Amongst the songs we put out was one 8 minute long anthem called Doin it in da Butt (against our better judgment). We later got in trouble when a 9^th grade Todd and a 7^th grade Leah were found listening to it by their parents.

Fast forward a few months, we had put all our songs on Napster for our friends to download. One day out of blue, I got an Email from a guy from Nu-Era Records, he had heard our songs and was interested in signing us. We spoke on the phone a few more times, I gave him some more of our lyrics. He was interested in signing and putting us on his compilation album, it was a mix-tape of all Tampa rappers. He was telling us to come up with more material for a solo album. We had dubbed our first EP Mofos in Space (see cover art below). A meeting was set up at Wendy’s Restaurant. Yes, a lot of rappers got their big break Dave Thomas’ establishments.

We get to school, the next day, and the whole school is buzzing. People are coming up to us and congratulating us and all that jazz. So, later that week Nanni and I go to the meeting. It’s scheduled for 5:00, we show up at quarter till. 5:00 hits, and nothing 5:15, and nothing. 5:30 hits, and nothing but by this time our Biggie Frostees are empty and things are looking bleak. We waited till 6:00 but nobody showed up and we dipped.

A few days later the dude called and apologized, I let it slide, but I was becoming more suspicious. He set up another meeting, this time at a McDonald’s (Honest, you can’t make this stuff up) located in the heart of the ghetto. I went alone this time. As you have guessed the Brus didn’t show up. We gave up on it.

Fast forward like 10 months, I’m in my Beatty Towers dorm room and I get a call. It’s the Brus. He was calling to tell me that the record we were supposed to be on had come out and wanted to talk about another album. I looked it up online and found it. It was on one of those websites where you could listen to 30 second snippets of the songs. 4 of the 5 songs I could listen to were awful, but 1 was a real banger. They pretty much all had to with drugs, hos, and 20 inch rims. A couple months later I was back in Tampa and visited a local FYE retailer and found the CD. College pretty much took over our lives, and we slowly quit writing dope raps.

Lyrics from 1983 Born (2Scoopz)

I don’t care if you,
The feds, the DA, the DEA or Cool-aid,
Cause im gonna bust out,
I come up like a wet dream,
And end up pissing myself.
Its ok you don’t rap well,
Cause you gotta pretty mouth,
Your favorite rapper is me,
Come on no doubt,
I go hard at the battle,
Call me the man Sid Vicious,
Pour ketchup on me,
Now call me delicious,
I put my bare ass on the floor,
Than scratch till it itches,
I steal moneys from myself,
Than sit back to count the riches,
But my pancakes will never go broke,
Cause I got 80 grand stuffed in a box of bis-quick,
So why the hell do you wanna run in this sh*t,
The biscuit,
You know I don’t bake,
Came in for some pie,
But I left with the cake.

Lyrics from Doin it in da Butt (Dirty Wordz)

Ladies in the place yo its time to shake,
Booty gotta quiver like a California quake,
Make no mistake and don't try to fake,
Dirty Wordz spits the rhymes that are sweeter than cake,
Do it in the da butt, flip it like a pancake,
Got the junk in the trunk that makes the necks break.
Snap Bang Crackle and Pop,
Once you started in the butt, you know you cant stop,
Feeling kinda kinky so I use a riding crop,
Then I smack it in the back till the Ho yell stop
If other raps make the kids do drugs,
This record drop will have kids grindin of the rugs,
So grind with me,
Rewind with me,
Do it in the butt, get intertwined with me,
Break the six foot rule, get fined with me,
Do it in the butt, shake that behind with me.