?uestLove Celebrity Stories – Sean “Diddy” Combs

questo

intro to film tarrentino style

“lemme tell you something playboy. i live that lifestyle. my man loved yall dusty niggas. he had real love for yall. yall shit on my mans. he was the reason brooklyn loved yall niggas. see i do real things like fuck 3 bitches at a time. i do shit like spread love and buy out the bar. my life is fab my man you hear me?—no no no no dont you look at the ground look me in the eye like a man….

i do REAL SHIT playboy.”

real shit.”

-sean puffy combs backstage at the wetlands to ahmir thompson for an underground/commercial summit meeting tween me tip mos, him and 13 big guys.

fade.

opening film.

we had spent a majority of 96-97 in europe.

big had spent late 96 getting back at all who dissed him on wax (jeru got a pass cause primo intervened for “playin ya self”), pac (dilla made the beat but they ixnayed it) ogc (the story the d and d engineer told me of this revenge act was something out of new jack city and i am AMAZED this story never got out)—he had made it known he was looking for us too for the “what they do” video. which he assumed was us dissing him for THINKING he was dissing us on “flavor in your ear” (both parties are wrong)

anywho….he passed away and we made our return to the states in april of 97.

tip invited me to roll with him to go to our OG black lily spot wetlands to watch this new kid in action named mos def to lyricist lounge. i was like “sure”! (had only known mos for his stint with de la on stakes album.)

he played me some demos from the new tribe album (OG version of “against the world>>> album version of against the world)

so we get there and its packed to the hilt.

tip hosts and brings up some noteables.

so the Mos is introduced next and he KILLS it with his intro and his overall friendly and joking manner onstage.—we aint seen a mofo this nice since the fresh prince talk to an audience. that within itself made him instantly engaging.

so he says he is working on a collaborative project called black star and he wants to do an acapella cut for us before he leaves.

now again

it is MAD crowded.

this is my first night in america since march 9th…..really since “what they do” was on the air.

Once upon a time not long ago
When people wore Adidas and lived life slow
When laws were stern and justice stood
And people was behavin’ like hip-hop was good

(he is taking gaps in between his spoken word so we understand his lyrics and emphasis)

There lived a little boy who was misled
By a little Sha-tan and this is what he said
“Me and you kid we gonna make some cash,
Jackin’ old beats and makin’ the dash…”

(we INSTANTLY knew this was gonna be classic……*grabs popcorn*)

They jacked the beats, money came wit’ ease
But son, he couldn’t stop, it’s like he had a disease
He jacked another and another, Michael Jackson, Stevie Wonder
Set some R & B over the track for ‘Deep Cover’ (187!)
The kid got wild startin’ actin’ erratic
He said “Yo, that presidential I got ta have it…”

(oh shit! WE KNOW WHO HE TALKING ABOUT!!!!!!!)

With liquor in his belly son, he made up the track
But little did he know that his joints was wack

(–he repeated it one more time for the hearing impared)

ut little did he know that his joints was wack!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The shiny A & R said “Great new hit G!”
“Whenever you need a loop, yo come get me…”
The kid got amped and he starts to figure
“I’m-a get dough like all-a these otha niggaz!”
So, he’s in the studio workin’ ’round the clock
For pop radio, jacked the beat to ‘Planet Rock’

(we are HOWLING. like HOWLING WITH ROAR BY NOW mos is like “shhhhhhhhh!”)

Was out in the street when he met this sister
Who couldn’t sing for shhhh but the mix wit’ her sister
Hooked up the track and in excitation
He decided he’d head for the radio station
But (But!) he was runnin’ and he made a left
Was skeezin’ at top speed and ran into Mos Def
I slowed the young man down and I started: “Yo money,
Yo, why you sellin’ lies to our wives and children?”

(we let out a “OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHIT!!!!”)

He ran upstairs up to the top floor
Opened up the door then guess what he saw? (Who?)
JANE the chickenhead radio host
Who be yappin’ ’bout beef between east and west coast
He said “This one’s a bullet, you got ta give it run!”
The chicken said “Thanks.” and spanked it #1

(everyone is still laughing…..mos is waiting so he can drop this lil gem on us)

He went outside, was gettin’ props all over
Then he dipped into his ride, the 4-point Rover
Raced up the block doin’ 83
Some cats with Hennessey saw him at a R-E-D
He winked his eye like his star status mattered
They rat-a-tat-tatted to make his blood splatter
“You rockin’ crazy ice and all you do is cling static
And rollin’ down to Brooklyn late night is problematic…”
His eyes was bloody red, he hung on every word they said
They told the kid “Back down, that playa shit is dead.”

(whut!!!!!!!!!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!)

Deep in his heart, he knew he was gone
But he grabbed his 45 and decide to blaze on
Wit’ shades on founded had him astounded an’
Before long, the young man got surrounded
Those grabbed the guns, so goes the glory
And that is the way I got ta end this story
He was out chasin’ cream and the American dream
Tryin’ to pretend the ends justify the means
This ain’t funny so don’t you dare laugh
It’s just what comes to pass when you sell your ass
Life is more than what your hands can grasp

Good Night!

he held this bboy freeze

http://rammy.alkem.org/Image22.gif

and we HOWLED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i HELD MY ARMS THANKING GOD FOR HIP HOP’S SAVIOR!!!! (thank you god!)

I HIGH FIVED!!! (yo that is that shit)

I YELLED (tell the truth my brother!!! tell the truth!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

ME AND TIPS BOY WAS SO ELATED WE HUGGED!!! (man hip hop is a beautiful thing)

I WAS SO BESIDE MYSELF!!!! I 360′d the ROOM!!!!!!!!

a 2 minute applause!

HE WAS STILL HOLDING THE FREEZE!!!!!!!!!!

*turns my body to walk to the bar area to get a water and then….

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AtyJbIOZjS8

go to 8:24

that was the picture perfect zoom of

turning my body from the stage to say excuse me to the guy standing right behind me to go to the bar.

except it was puff.

and he watched EVERY moment of my cheering mos on.

puff was 14 deep.

i literally said to myself “my god im about to get mo betta’d up in the alleyway”

2 Responses

  1. Crazy story. Love it. That flow was sick, ridiculous lyrical delivery. I can only imagine the moment you had experienced Quest, you are a great man – The Roots, a legendary group. Mos’ def! LOL I see you daily on Late Night, was inspired greatly by your group, including also your friends: Q-Tip and Tribe, Erick Sermon, Black Thought, Pharcyde, Sadat X of Brand Nubian, and of course, Mos Def. His flow is incomparable to none, politically and positively-infused and influential, according to Brooklyn and the map around us. The world is a wild place of talent and gifted men, I claim you as one. I am a 30 year old “rapper/writer” in dream … the “sitting on his stoop, with a pen and a pad; an instrumental in the headphones, off the top, lad”. I heard Hova state on the radio or television several years back saying he was retiring (1st time) into production and management, he was out looking for “the kid on the stoop writing songs” and I used to sit back in Orange (NJ) where I’m born and raised, thinking, “He’s talkin’ about me, Quest?!” Nah, I was just dreaming. I always thought an Italian-Irish North Jersey rapper would be a smooth input into Hip Hop but this music today, it hasn’t gone far at all – it’s entered into a futuristic design of nonsensical rhythms, lyrical misinterpretations and misunderstandings. Cats like Tyler the Creator? Confusing. I remember MF Doom and Tech Nine, smooth lyrical delivery, even Slick Rick. Inspirations still to this day. I got hard into Wu-Tang esp. Masta Killa “Brooklyn King” – love that style. I wish there was a way to bring that back. People need to bring it back. Mixing/Scratching “actual” wax records, break-beats and hardcore bass and slap-box sounding snares (the thin ones) boom-ba-boom crack-ba-boom-ba-boom-crack boom -crack-boom … your drumming style always amazed and inspired me. Bass Drum, Snare, Hi Hit, all you needed. Remember the Beatnuts “Off the Books” and even Craig Mack “Flava in ya Ear”. It’s gone. Life has changed over, transformed. As the Spring sun begins to break into my window, as I sit broken and poor on my computer trying to find work, writing lyrics over classic instrumentals in hopes I could find solitude and peace – maybe a hit that would rock the nation and give my fiancee and I a financial grasp on our debt and disturbed finances … I think of a world long gone. It’s sad, I read this article or whatever it is, a moment in time I suspect of true boys, people coming together in the Name of Hip Hop and Rap, Freestyle, Lyrical Flow and Delivery, back when we had cyphers. Back when we made a circle to puff our Dutch’s and Phillies (but like Lost Boyz said, “I heard they were for silly stunts, dutches burn slower….”) Whoever dropped the L got slapped or maybe even a punch to the upper-arm. Things ain’t the same. It was inspirational for “just a moment” reading this excerpt of an experience from a legendary drummer and rap group extraordinaire, Quest <3. I just needed to hear this, as life becomes too overwhelming, tears attempt to fall down my cheek as I wipe it away while the new Spring sun splinters my monitor, just hoping the day goes right. Money DOES purchase happiness because happiness comes when all the bills are paid and we have a bit of a grasp on the debt and can function comfortably in a world that doesn't accept us for who we are anymore, it accepts us for what we hide behind. I enjoy human interaction but that has also just gone away as well. The New School has kicked down the door, hard headed and unlearned, stupified and misled by educators – putting a weird, nonsensical, misunderstood and confusing top on the Hip Hop World. There was never a game, it was a society of influential masterminds lyrically capable of disseminating one's own thoughts and feelings, giving young cats in the hood and even in the suburbs a glimpse of hope – dreams are possible. Sitting in our rooms, popping cassettes in the tape deck or even pushing a CD into the slit and press play. Boom. Albums that had intros to their first song and included interludes and skits, bonus tracks and straight unique and original word play no longer defined by today's rappers. They're trash. Now white rappers are coming out and it's sad. Maybe it's too late? Maybe age 30 just isn't right. Maybe I should just put down the pen and the pad, the headphones bumping the classic Mobb Deep instrumental inside of my head and just call it a day. Collect old classics and records, play them to myself to inspire my writing of stories and chronicles, articles and books. As I enter into my 2nd term of college in my 1st year, I think back on those days – kicking back with the boys, the homies and a couple girls, regular type, not these slutty, baby-wanting crazies of today. Rocking Triple Fat Goose, Duck Down winter coat with Lugz Champagne color boots. Pele Pelle Jeans and Coolwater cologne, maybe even Adidas. Life was good. Thanks for this invitation into the past, not to dwell but to inspire for the world truly has gone and ain't nothing like this ever going to return unless us elders or even the younger of this new generation turn over and respect the course. I wish there was a way for me to get out in the public's eye, I'm doing it now but not enough. I'm not chasing fame or riches, I just desire to be known for my lyrical prose of excellence and truth, inspiration, guidance, and understanding for all the youth. They need it the most, or else they'll end up listening to a computer auto-tune a voice into the speakers and like the movie Demolition Man, we'll soon be listening to "Show Tunes" from the 1950's. Gimme a break. Represent Hip Hop Exclusively and May it Rest in Peace unless it's taken up and raptured by storm by the Messiah of Hip Hop, which would be anyone I mentioned up above: Roots, Mos Def, Common, anyone – just to come back and lay it down, politically also. Hip Hop really needed a political guru – RIP Guru. If we had control of the voters and the media, music might just have a chance to survive its existence. — God Bless.

    Sincerely Yours,

    TGJP (Tommy Guns the Jerzee Prince)
    Jersey Born & Raised – Essex County – The Oranges
    Age: 30 (May 23, 2014)
    Style: Acoustic Rap. SACRED Music (Soulful Acoustic Christian Rap Entertainment Delivery)

    Be easy. Website: http://www.pirofilmco.wix.com/tommypiro
    Soundcloud: http://www.soundcloud.com/jerzeeprince

    March 8, 2014 at 10:20 AM

  2. PROPS!

    Mad PROPS TGJP.

    Brought back some great memories.

    We came up in the same era.

    Keep doing your thing fam.

    Pursue the passion.

    Peace,
    PROPS!

    March 10, 2014 at 9:12 AM

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