[turning radio dial,
indistinct chatter]
I am not
a finished product
Only judge me
when I'm done
[turning radio dial,
indistinct chatter]
Young and Black
and from the projects
n*gg*s from my hood
never left the jungle
Got a lot to overcome
Can rap lyrics be used
as evidence in court?
Nationwide,
rap lyrics are playing
an increasingly prominent
role in criminal cases.
Artists say that
current law violates
their First Amendment
right to freedom
of artistic expression.
Rappers k*ller Mike,
Chance the Rapper,
and Meek Mill asked the
U.S. Supreme Court to step in.
These trials
affect rap artists.
And, typically, there's
a r*cist element.
- This is all fiction.
- It's like seeing an actor.
Gangsta rap is what sells.
Rap is an expression to
reflect Black life in America.
Rapper Young Thug,
out of Atlanta, his case
now sparking the national
debate among lawyers...
And if you decide to admit
your crimes over a b*at,
I'm going to use it.
[interposing voices]
[dramatic music]
Ain't nobody I can trust
My n*gg*s getting stuck
Cops throw 'em in a truck,
lock n*gg*s up
Circle getting
smaller every day
[cell phone rings]
Life's getting
shorter every day
One second, yo.
Tick, tick, tick, time's
ticking on your prime
Bun B, what's good?
- How you doing, man?
- Focused.
Just in the studio
working on some new sh*t.
Don't get
yourself into something
that you don't
really understand,
you know what I'm saying?
The way I see it,
I don't really have a choice.
We have to be careful
how we conduct ourselves, to
not give these m*therf*ckers
no amm*nit*on
because they already
make so many assumptions.
Yeah,
I hear what you saying.
Don't help
your enemies destroy you.
That's the best
advice I could say.
All right, OG.
Appreciate you looking out.
Peace.
I'm ready.
Roll the tape.
[indistinct chatter]
I was born in the Bronx,
New York,
the South Bronx,
Hunts Point, to be exact.
I knew I wanted to rap when
I was nine because my older
brother was rapping.
I just started doing it, too.
And I fell in love with it.
And I never stopped.
I met a guy.
He invited me to this class
that he does at this community
center at the Point.
He would come in
with a newspaper
and say, pick an article.
Write about it in 45 minutes.
What that did was got
me into the habit of...
And that is the
World Trade Center--
Analyzing what was
going on in the real world...
and being able
to make it into art.
I was saying things
that I didn't mean...
[chuckles] That I had
no experience in.
But the punch lines were crazy.
And so people was like, oh,
this guy, he got potential.
Trying to be a mark and
mocked for my penmanship
As I got older, rap became
a big part of who I am.
[crowd cheering]
And the Kendrick
thing happened.
Make some noise
for Kemba, man.
Remember that
motherfuckin' name, Kemba.
People that come
from communities...
like I do...
they don't see
many options, you know?
Rap is one of the most
attainable things to them,
to us.
"The role of the artist
is exactly the same
"as the role of the lover.
"If I love you, I have to make
you conscious of the things
you don't see."
James Baldwin.
Writing lyrics is
just like me saying,
how do I want you
to feel right now?
[indistinct chatter]
Picture Langston
flipping language
Dipped in royal garbs
Marcus Garvey did the Garden
in embroidered scarves
Politicians tried to hop the
fence and fought the guards
Tossed from Zion, all we
sighted was a fallen star
Listen, I've made my wishes
From stolen gold
and scolded women
My sh*t's afflicted
I'm going cold and
growing distant
I've gone the distance
Saw the unknown
and wasn't flinching
I've grown indifferent
I'm on a mission
I'ma b*at this b*at
till it caves in
Make my team
full of made men
You're trying to look
up for a spaceship
We're trying to catch
up to the cavemen
In most music, but
especially in rap music,
you get people talking
about their experiences.
You get people
trying to come out
of those difficult
places they grow up in
by telling the world
what's happening there.
And it's been like that
since the beginning of rap.
I would love to hear people's
experiences of what it's like
to have that
twisted against them,
with the stakes being as high
as the loss of your freedom.
You know, music has been
the thing I could hold on to
when everything
was out of control.
And I feel like...
[clicks tongue]
I feel an obligation
to it, too.
Are we really in danger?
If so, I got to keep
things off the grid.
I think I know just the thing.
[speaking Patois]
Then I'm gonna grease up
my fingertips then, man.
Hi.
That's the 2-way.
Blame me,
I tried to hit those
Ooh, you got a 2-way.
Look at the hurt in your
eyes, they squint closed
Pimpin', here's a
new way to flirt
Listen to the 2-way alert,
it goes
[device beeping]
Can I get this one?
You want this?
Yeah, that's the one.
Boss, I just come back
from the time of Nazareth
to find this thing.
This is a 2-way.
You sure this is what
you want, my brother?
Yes, sir.
No social media, no
Instagram, no Facebook--
Can't call your mama.
Can't call your girlfriend.
$39.99.
My respect.
Looking after us--
[indistinct chatter]
Cool.
All right,
I'm under the radar.
I got to talk to
some other artists,
see what to make of this
whole "rap on trial" thing.
Way before the trial of
Young Thug making headlines,
the city of Atlanta
carved a place in hip-hop
that was unique.
At a time when the East Coast
and West Coast dominated
the airwaves, two
20-year-olds from Georgia
who went by the name OutKast,
said what a lot of people
below the Mason-Dixon Line
was thinking.
And I got a feeling,
even today, the South
got something to say.
That's all I got to say.
[device chimes, vibrates]
Not many artists have been
as outspoken about protecting
our rights as k*ller Mike,
whose moms was once a hustler
and his pops a policeman.
Mike, my guy.
- Bro. What up, man?
- Great to see you.
- Man, bless you.
Yes, sir, yes, sir.
We are the murderous pair
That went to jail
And we m*rder*d
the murderers there
Then went to hell
and discovered
The Devil delivered
some hurt and despair
How do you feel
about that name
now in the context of
the criminalization
of rap music and lyrics?
I love my name
because I earned it.
I didn't seek to
be k*ller Mike.
It was bestowed upon
me after a battle.
I wouldn't have gave myself
that name because it's
damn near crazy for
a Black man to call
himself k*ller something.
- I feel that.
I just knew that it
was important for me
that I express
myself through art.
And I went to school during the
Reagan era and the expl*si*n
of the cr*ck epidemic.
Rap validated that
I wasn't insane.
As a kid, I'm seeing
things that people
aren't acknowledging.
You know, Nancy Reagan
with that "just say no" sh*t,
like, get the f*ck
out of here.
I know that my neighbor, who
used to have a great job,
should not be standing
on a corner this year.
So this is
beyond "just say no."
This is an epidemic of sorts.
And rap is the only thing
that validated that.
When Ice said, 6:00 in the
morning, police at my door,
fresh Adidas squeak
across the bathroom floor,
out the back windows
where I made my escape,
didn't even have the chance
to grab my old-school tape.
When I heard that
right now, I still
get chills because
that's actually
the life that I started to see
Black teenage boys leading.
And no one was acknowledging
that except for rappers.
Can lyrics like that ever be
understood in the courtroom?
They're not going
to say that the art
is simply a representation
of the imagination
and the thought.
They're going to say, it's you.
You are a k*ller, Mike.
And we're going to
lock your ass up.
It's a shame that
we live in a country
where a white woman
who k*lled her husband
can write an article called
"How to k*ll Your Husband."
And that article is
not allowed to be used.
And the prosecutor had to find
another way to convict her.
But I could randomly say
some stupid sh*t in a song.
And some prosecutor can
clumsily, with no rhythm,
say that sh*t to a judge
as though he knows what
the f*ck I'm talking about,
has some type of expertise
over the things
I'm talking about,
or, somehow, what I'm
talking about is not art.
What scares me, though, is
the criminalization of hip-hop
is not new.
It's an old tactic.
It's just about
criminalization of Blackness.
It's nothing more than
a sleight-of-hand trick.
If I can keep you believing
that these people
are criminals,
you never wonder,
why does criminality exist,
or where is it coming from?
I got my heart broke
The pain really
made me famous
Betrayal from
the closest folk
Really made me dangerous
I lost too many loved ones
Now these b*ll*ts nameless
I think I'd much
rather be rich
But life's a bitch,
so f*ck it
Been living cursed
since the birth
How'd I get so lucky?
Heard if you struggle, that
just mean that God loves you
Guess she loves me lots
Y'all was
scared of heights
I was fearless
on the mountain
I made moves over the
years with no announcements
Ambidextrous, I can sh**t
it with my left wrist
They know it's going in
like I'm on the guest list
Hold on, hold on.
Who chooses
where they're born?
Or the hand they were dealt?
It's been said that
we're living in an idea
from another man's mind.
But who's the man?
And how long has
he thought of us as criminals?
[distant singing]
sl*ve songs.
On the Middle Passage
to America,
enslaved Africans
would sing in languages
their European captors
couldn't understand.
During a time of
hopelessness and grief,
lyrics were their way
of secret communication.
Not long after the ancestors
landed on American shores,
their music inspired
an uprising--
the Stono Rebellion of 1739,
the largest sl*ve revolt
in the British colonies.
A band of slaves marched
toward freedom
in Spanish Florida,
k*lling their masters
while pounding drums
and shouting a song
of liberty.
But before reaching
their destination,
they were cornered, ex*cuted.
South Carolina
passed the n*gro Act,
which outlawed the drum,
an instrument
plantation owners called
a dangerous tool of rebellion.
sl*ve owners demanded
that the slaves,
"make a noise whenever
the work went silent."
Without drums, they used
their bodies to keep rhythm.
They sang improvised verses
to ridicule their overseers
and share dreams of
escape and freedom.
[distant singing]
The blues emerged
from those same work songs
and field hollers.
The Civil w*r had just ended,
but the promise of freedom,
40 acres and a mule,
was broken.
Blues lyrics overflowed
with frustration
during a time of
state-enforced segregation,
also known as Jim Crow.
Then in the 1920s, a new wave
of criminalized music, jazz,
took over the U.S.
by way of New Orleans.
The jazz art form was crafted
in brothels and speakeasies,
where gangsters like
Al Capone fought to get
the best Black performers.
As jazz got even more popular,
so did attempts to censor
the sound that they
called Devil's music.
Just when they thought
it couldn't get any worse,
in came rock and roll.
Many people coming
from miles around to hear...
Teenage savages go
wild in a juvenile jungle
of lust and lawlessness.
Go, Johnny, go
It's vulgar, animalistic
n*gg*r rock and roll bop.
Ain't that a shame?
You're the one...
It is a contributing factor
to our juvenile delinquency
of today.
Tutti frutti, oh, rootie
If you talk to the
average teenager of today
and you ask them what it is
about rock-and-roll music
that they like, the
first thing they'll say
is the b*at, the
b*at, the b*at.
Rain all day,
rain all night
Rock and roll is
a means by which
the white man and his
children can be driven
to the level with the n*gg*r*s.
But the sound
could not be stopped.
Baby, baby, where you is?
[crowd cheering]
In the late 1950s
into the mid '70s,
soul music exploded
onto the scene.
Mr. James Brown!
Baby
It was the soundtrack
of Black Power, Black pride,
despite the brutality
of the police.
James Brown sang,
say it loud,
I'm Black, and I'm proud
four months
after Martin Luther King Jr.
was assassinated.
Know how it goes?
It goes one, two, three.
And here we go, here we go
Here we go, here we go,
here we, here we go
It was only five years later
that DJ Kool Herc
threw a back-to-school jam
in the abandoned borough
of the Bronx,
which became known
as the birthplace of hip-hop.
[rapping indistinctly]
But it didn't take long
for the music to make enemies.
Politicians were furious,
saying the songs
encouraged v*olence.
They accused rappers of
trying to incite crime.
[g*nshots]
[choir vocalizing]
And just like all the Black
genres that came before it...
You never thought
that hip-hop...
Hip-hop was destined
for a battle
with the American
political system.
Okay.
We are asking the recording
industry to assist parents
by placing a warning
label on music products
inappropriate for
younger children.
Beginning in July, this label
will appear on the lower
right-hand corner
at the discretion
of record companies
and individual artists.
- More than a dozen
states want to include
the parental-advisory label in
their definition of obscenity,
which makes performing
or selling
controversial rap music
a felony.
2 Live Crew went on trial
in Fort Lauderdale, Florida,
on Tuesday, charged
with singing obscene songs
during a nightclub performance
last June.
Key to the prosecution's
case in this trial
was proving that
the Crew's material
had no artistic or
political value.
Would you ban your children
from listening to him?
Oh, absolutely.
Absolutely.
I just can't buy it.
I don't want them exposed--
But your kids don't live
in South Central Los Angeles.
387 of your kids
didn't die last year.
My audience isn't your kids.
If they are, they want to know
what's going on
in my neighborhood.
I used to pass two mobile
police stops every day walking
to the train station
in the middle
of the stop-and-frisk era.
The more you left your crib,
the higher the chances
of getting locked up.
Even a wrong look at the cops
could land me a day in court.
The elders used to tell us,
do exactly what they say--
whatever it takes
to make it back home.
But not all of us
are that lucky.
I heard rumors about a rapper
signed to Master P's No Limit
who spent most of
his life in prison
for some lyrics he
wrote in the '90s.
Maybe he could set
the record straight.
You say the
green stimulates you
The white motivates you
Brown makes you
feel that heaven awaits you
I really can't relate,
dude, but let us pray
Our Father,
who art in heaven
I know you love me
more than this MAC-11
I carry for my protection
If so, then let the enemy
wander in your direction
I promise to k*ll infection
while seeking perfection
No question
Society is attracted
to v*olence.
These artists are
basically trying
to capitalize on
the same appetite
for that type of content.
The lyrics that you wrote
being used against you,
how did that feel?
They actually spliced
the lyrics
of two different
songs together.
One of them is
called "Shell Shock."
The other one is
called "Murda, Murda."
"Murda, Murda, k*ll, k*ll" was
a battle rap.
And "Shell Shock," I make
a line about my father,
who was a Vietnam vet.
He gave me his name,
he gave me the game
And if you eff with me, he'll
put a b*llet in your brain
The prosecutor said,
m*rder, m*rder, k*ll, k*ll.
Eff with me, and I will
put a b*llet in your brain.
Those are the words
of this young man.
And he pointed at
me in the courtroom.
And they said, 30 years.
And I was just like, damn.
I never believed that I would
literally be found guilty
without no evidence.
I'm talking about there was no
g*n linking me to the crime.
All the witnesses
had changed their stories
and recanted what they said.
And you had a person that
actually confessed to it.
And yet I still
was found guilty.
So I just was like,
man, this is--
this is not how this works.
I spent all my 20s, all my
30s,
and half of the 40s in there.
- Wow.
[emotional music]
Get ready.
Get ready.
I got to talk to
someone on the inside,
someone who's defended rappers
in an actual courtroom.
Hi.
- Hi.
- Kemba.
- Alexandra Kazarian.
Nice to meet you.
- Thanks for taking the time.
Yeah, no problem.
Here you go,
in case you need it.
So I've been trying to
get down to the bottom of,
like, how we got here,
why rap music is on trial.
And I'm curious of what
your perspective is as
a criminal defense attorney.
Well, you're
a rap artist, right?
Yeah.
Innocent, I swear I'm
innocent for my own benefit
It's mind control
As soon as God forgive me,
I'ma sin again
Well, let's assume
a hypothetical.
Okay?
- Okay.
Let's say that
you're in the Bronx.
And a couple subway
stops south of you,
there's a convenience-store
robbery and a homicide.
Somebody dies
during this robbery.
And let's say
you're implicated.
Somebody says that
they saw you there.
So you're arrested.
And you're charged with
being part of that m*rder.
So I'm arrested.
Then what?
What's next?
So, while you're
in custody, police officers,
the investigators, they're
going to go to your house.
They're going to
find your computer.
They have your phone already.
They're going to comb
through your social media.
They're going to find every
song, every lyric, every video
that you've ever
been involved with.
And they're going to use
that as evidence against you.
But I've never rapped about
robbing a convenience store.
How could they even use it?
They're going to take
every single lyric.
And they're going
to rip it apart.
If they can prove to
the jury that you're
the kind of person, that you
have the kind of character
to be involved in
something like this,
then it makes it a lot easier
for the jury to vote guilty.
Is innocent until proven
guilty a real thing?
Clients will ask their
lawyer to get them
the best deal possible,
even if they're innocent,
because the idea of putting
your entire fate in the system
is just too much
for people to bear.
So, if there's a plea deal,
a lot of times people will say,
I will sacrifice
two years of my life
for something
that I had nothing to do with
because I don't trust
the system
to realize that it wasn't me.
Only 1% of cases
actually go to trial.
And when the trial starts,
that's when the w*r begins.
Is that what you want?
When you fighting
a system this big,
is it even worth writing?
When we're talking
about any criminal case,
we're talking
about the government,
the power of the entire
government--its finances,
its authority, its police--
against a single person.
In law enforcement,
you have police,
who are trying to prevent
crime or arrest people for it.
And then you have
prosecutors, DA, who are
actually trying those cases.
And the prosecutors
are only supposed
to bring honest,
good-faith cases
that they believe they can win
at the standard
of beyond a reasonable doubt.
A lot of mass incarceration,
racialized mass incarceration,
what people call
the new Jim Crow,
is a product of prosecutors.
Prosecutors went from
prosecuting roughly one
out of three cases that
came into their offices
as felonies in the
early '80s and the '70s,
to two out of three.
You just do the math on that,
and you have an expl*si*n
in the prison
population being driven
by more punitive prosecutors.
There is no tool that they
will turn down
if it will raise
their conviction rate.
It's not about justice.
We talk about the culture
of police.
There's a culture in
prosecutors' offices, too.
Most people in America
can't afford a private lawyer
for a full criminal trial.
So that immediately takes
something that is described as,
you have all these rights, and
you get your Miranda rights,
and you have a right to
a lawyer, that's all in theory.
You have the right
to remain silent.
Anything you say
can and will be used
against you in a court of law.
You have the right
to an attorney.
If you cannot
afford an attorney,
one will be provided for you.
And in practice,
the lawyer you have a right to
is probably going to
be a public defender.
We don't resource them the
way we resource the police,
the prosecutors, the bench.
And so you have
public defenders
with 100 cases
on their docket.
What an artist is
walking into is essentially
a prosecutor saying,
this artistic expression
is actually some
form of a confession.
And there's nobody there
to provide the reality
that that isn't what's
happening at all.
So you've got a jury of
12 people,
many of whom are probably not
familiar with rap music.
Then a prosecutor
encourages jurors to read
rap lyrics as autobiography.
That's very, very dangerous
because we know,
you know, from all kinds
of empirical research
that rap is really prejudicial.
Rap is Black at its
core, at its roots,
where it originated from.
Prosecutors are not dumb.
They see this, and they know,
okay, here is a way
I can add a little something.
There's the study out of the--
I believe it's University
of California at Irvine.
[keys clacking]
My research examines the
consequences of stereotypes
about rap music.
And to do so, I conducted
a set of studies
where participants are asked
to read a set of lyrics
and then make judgments
about those lyrics
or about the person
that wrote those lyrics.
I varied the genre
label of those lyrics.
So participants either
learn that the music
is, for example, rap...
country, or heavy metal.
What they didn't know is
that everybody was reading
the same lyrics from
a 1960s folk song
called "Bad Man's Blunder."
- Well, early one morning,
I was rollin' around
I was feeling
kind of thirsty
So I headed for town...
- And so, after
reading those lyrics,
they were asked to evaluate
the lyrics across a number
of dimensions, right?
How offensive are the lyrics?
How threatening
are the lyrics?
"Early one evening,
I was rolling around."
"I was feeling kind of mean.
I sh*t a deputy down."
"Strollin' on home,
and I went to bed.
Well, I laid me a p*stol up
under my head."
Most importantly, they
were asked, how literal
are these lyrics, right?
Were these lyrics based off
of the songwriter's real life?
"The judge
was an old man, 93."
- "93."
- "93.
And I didn't like the way
the jury looked at me."
"I think
they were suspicious.
"The judge and the
jury, they did agree.
They all said m*rder
in the first degree."
How likable is
the songwriter?
How intelligent
is the songwriter?
How aggressive is
the songwriter?
"You got
a point there, judge.
It was a most
unsatisfactory trial."
"They gave me 99 years."
"99 years"...
both:
"On a hard rock pile."
"90 and 9 on
the hard rock ground."
"All I ever did was
sh**t a deputy down."
How likely is it
that the songwriter
is involved
in criminal activity?
How likely is it
the songwriter
is involved in a g*ng?
"This whole thing sure
has been a lesson to me."
- "Bang."
- "Bang."
"Bang."
both:
"You're dead."
People are a lot more aware
that they shouldn't say
explicitly r*cist things, right?
So if you say, hey, here's
a Black guy making music,
there's a chance
that they're going
to say, no,
especially in a study,
you're not going to trick me.
I'm not going to
respond in a way
where you think I'm r*cist.
But if you use rap as kind of
a cue, right, a cue to race,
right, that's where
the mind goes.
It's kind of using rap
music to fill in the blanks.
You know, okay, so I'm not
going to judge this person
because of their race
but because of their music.
What we found in that study is
that the songwriter was viewed
as having worse character and
a greater criminal propensity
if his lyrics were described
as rap music,
compared to country
or heavy metal.
Because we're supposed to
always be so authentic
or so real, I think, you know,
rap lyrics and hip-hop lyrics
are definitely taken
more literally than most
other forms of music...
And not be held
to the same standards.
Because, obviously, the
environment we come from,
and so many of us make the
claim that this is real,
or we're real.
- Race is central to
rap lyrics on trial.
Juries will jump
to a conclusion
that, hey, this
person's guilty.
These rap lyrics,
if they're not
confessional to
this crime, they're
confessional to other crimes.
So there's really
no harm in finding him guilty
because he's
definitely guilty of something.
[chuckles] You know, I hate
to say it,
but I'm going to say
it straight--it's racism.
And prosecutors, they
have trainings on it.
It has a really negative,
pernicious effect
on individuals
trying just to get
a fair trial in our courts.
Straight outta Compton
That's the way it goes in
the city of Compton, boy.
Los Angeles,
the stomping ground
of NWA, Snoop Dogg, 2Pac.
New York rappers were
the definition of cool.
But L.A. was just raw.
[g*n cocks]
In the 1950s, the city
recruited its police force
from the Jim Crow South.
They were dead set
on being segregated.
So what did the people do?
The Watts Riots, 1965.
They b*rned that
m*therf*cker down.
The LAPD had a bad reputation.
And gangsta rap told
us all about it.
It was f*ck the police,
straight up.
The image wasn't tailor-made
to look cool.
And that's exactly why it was.
This is the city that
made Glasses Malone.
Title Glasses, man
and the myth, yep
Not the same rapper rolling
grams in the spliff, yep
He the type of trapper
go to tams in the 16
- You from around here, right?
- From Watts.
- Out where?
- Born and raised,
Compton and Watts
my whole life, man.
Was music big in the--
in the neighborhood
where you from?
My mom was a super
music head, dog.
My mom put me on E-40.
My mom put me
on Above the Law.
My mom put me on LL Cool J.
Was the g*ng culture big
when you was growing up?
It come with the territory,
you know what I'm saying?
Like, it's just what you do.
If you grew up
in the community,
these are your friends.
If you go somewhere and
somebody jump on your friends,
you stand up for your
friends, you know I mean?
You don't have a ton of
trust in the legal system.
So you pretty much deal
with justice in your own way
in the community.
- Right.
I'm a 7th Street Watts Crip.
How did you get into music?
All the stuff we was
going through as g*ng members,
the mic became
like my therapist.
And every time I made a
song about what was going on
around the way that was
really troubling me,
I felt instantly
better about it.
And if I did it really well
at the highest level,
people can really be
emotionally moved.
It didn't matter if
it was good or bad.
- Really?
- It was just greatness.
It was powerful to tell people
this is how it is being us.
This is how it is being me.
This is what, you know,
we as a culture value--
our reputation,
you know what I mean?
Like, how are you
going to treat us?
You going to disrespect
us and b*at us up,
I don't care if you're
the Pope and 20 priests.
Somebody going to
get sh*t that day.
[cash register bell dings]
So what do you think it
is that people want to see?
What do people get from it?
They want to go
into the lion cage.
- Go into the lion's cage?
- You know what I'm saying?
Like, where we from
is the lion cage.
Like, we from the zoo to them.
Man, if you live
in Newport Beach,
Compton don't exist,
Watts don't exist.
- Yeah.
- They want that journey.
Los Angeles was
also home to a rapper
that shared his name with
a scribe from ancient Greece.
Beloved by his
people, he was crushed
to death by the same crowd
that sang his praises.
His name was Drakeo the Ruler.
crowd: [chanting]
Drakeo.
Drakeo.
People love Drakeo, man.
Those guys created
this industry,
just out of a change
in the sound--
you know, slowing things down.
Their impact on Los Angeles
is undeniable.
Some of the most influential
artists in the last 10 years,
for sure.
Drakeo, because
of the style of music he made,
the style of artist
that he was,
he definitely drew lines
and created bridges between
Detroit, Los Angeles, Oakland.
Drakeo had sort of
the United Nations
of gangs around him.
He did not exclude people.
He had people that were from
the Crips, from the Bloods,
from the Jungles,
from everywhere.
And it just so happened
that he was at this party.
Two of the people that
were with him were Crips.
And they saw a member
of a Blood faction
that they were warring with.
And they sh*t
and k*lled somebody.
It's a classic L.A. g*ng
story as old as time.
Prosecutors are not
supposed to introduce
character evidence.
Character evidence...
evidence on an individual's
personality traits,
propensities,
or moral standing.
So, when they
introduce rap lyrics,
to avoid being seen
as if they are introducing
character evidence,
they have to
find other justifications
for using the lyrics.
In the Drakeo case,
they were using
lyrics in a bizarre way.
There was a lyric he had
where he talks about,
I've got RJ tied
up in the back.
And RJ refers to
a rival rapper.
That lyric was used in order
to demonstrate that Drakeo
had animosity and
motive to orchestrate
a hit on a rival rapper.
Worth noting that
that rival rapper
has said repeatedly that he
did not think that Drakeo
was trying to k*ll him.
They knew who
the m*rder*r was.
It was not a mystery.
They had jailhouse recordings.
They had an informant.
But they wanted Drakeo.
Drakeo was the big prize.
Young and up-and-coming rapper
goes to prison for m*rder.
The case was incredibly weak.
Particularly in a
case that's high profile
or politically charged,
prosecutors are going to pursue
a conviction.
They're going to make a case,
whether or not they really
have the evidence or not.
They feel pressure
from their superiors,
from their constituents
to bring justice.
But if they don't have
compelling evidence of guilt,
what are they going to do?
Well, what they've decided
to do in case after case
is bring in rap lyrics.
Even though it's
not a just outcome,
it is a favorable one
from their point of view.
After his first trial, where
he was acquitted on most
of the serious
charges against him,
most prosecutors at that point,
most DAs are not going to
refile that case.
They've just lost.
Because of how the
L.A. Sheriff's Department
got portrayed,
how the DA's office
got portrayed through some
of the media in that trial,
he was getting retried,
put on trial for
his life because he
had upset the powers
that be in Los Angeles.
Once they got him in there,
they kept him in solitary
for nine months.
The way he was mistreated
and the system was abused,
people were paying attention.
That really changed
the narrative
and the nature of the story.
He made an album
with his producer,
just rapping through a jail
phone, that actually got
critical acclaim,
and called it
"Thank You For Using GTL,"
which is Global Tel Link,
which everybody in the criminal
justice system knows
is how people in custody
call out.
The steel bars
weren't enough to cage
his artistic expression.
At that time, the district
attorney in L.A. County
was Jackie Lacey.
She was facing a challenge
from a more progressive
prosecutor, George Gascn.
When Gascn defeated
her in election,
Drakeo was literally
released the next day.
They saw that they
had a weak case
that they might lose at trial.
Big loss like that,
a public loss,
a media loss for a prosecutor's
office is not a good look.
That prosecutor's office
knew that he was not
going to put up
with this nonsense,
and he was not going to
continue to waste people's time
and money going after somebody
who was clearly not guilty.
[laughter]
The stakes in this story
is the power of art
to change hearts and minds,
and whether the police,
the state
can come in and
police imaginations,
police artistic expression.
To take this art form
away from these street griots
is to really crush
political speech.
Every time I speak,
I want the truth to come out.
And even if I get in trouble,
you know what I'm saying?
Ain't that what
we're supposed to do?
I'm not saying I'm
going to rule the world
or I'm going to
change the world.
But I guarantee that
I will spark the brain
that will change the world.
And that's our job,
is to spark
somebody else watching us.
[tape deck clicks]
Censored.
g*dd*mn.
[indistinct chatter]
Lack of experience.
Lack of experience
with the blacks.
Maybe the accent--
[device chimes, vibrates]
Tupac's first manager,
Leila, discovered him
as a teenage poet
in her living room.
So I thought
I'd swing through.
Hi, guys.
Thank you all for coming.
[laughter]
Well, it's going to be a
good night tonight, you know.
We'll see what happens.
Twice as dark,
not half as bright.
Born with natural light.
But to shine, we have to fight.
If I was the same
me 200 years ago,
my master might give me
long lashes,
like a beauty-shop transaction.
I would have my face b*at
for not acting right.
I can't imagine.
I probably wouldn't
last a night.
I honor ancestors
for their sacrifice,
'cause even if I make it
back to life,
I'm indebted in my afterlife.
Really can't grasp the plight.
400 years of atrocities
where masses d*ed.
I don't use my voice
to spew hate
and bash the whites,
except that fascist type,
them bigots
with that MAGA hype.
They strategize Black demise,
proud of what that hat implies,
using fear as alibis
to sh**t us in our back.
And that's why I have to write.
One, because I have the right.
Two, because they
propagate Black narratives,
and one of us should
have it right.
Speak my truth,
combat the lies.
It's poetry with passion.
I ain't rapping just
to pass the time.
Businessmen seek
power through politics.
Tell us, play sports
to get scholarships.
Tell me the line of thinking
if you follow it.
Who can do more, the DA
or Colin Kaepernick?
Who the n*gga in charge
when they cap a n*gga?
Don't need a street sign
saying Black Lives Matter.
Need justice for Breonna,
judges we can honor,
attorney generals that
hold coppers by the collar
and cops that know color
ain't cousin to corruption.
Prosecutors functioning
less like persecutors,
press cops to sh**t us.
Put they ass in prison.
Everybody marching,
pursuing power positions
more than signing a petition
and praying somebody listening.
I ain't trying to chase
dollars to maintain.
I'm trying to raise scholars to
take over the whole game.
Pick somebody, anybody
and look them in the eye.
And you'll see pain,
full of questions.
And the first one being why.
[echoing] Kemba...
Kemba...
this is your only chance
to take this plea deal.
But if I did
take the plea deal,
I would have to
say that I did it.
Yeah. Essentially, you would
have to lie
and say that you were involved.
So you plead guilty,
that's on your record forever.
Yeah, I don't
want to do that.
[chuckles]
I'm not taking the plea deal.
I think I'll b*at the case.
Okay.
Follow me.
I want to show you something.
When I got dropped,
forgotten by your man
So this is where
it all goes down?
Yeah, in places just like
this all over the country.
That's your public defender.
You're going to sit
right next to her.
This is probably one
of the first real times
that she's had to really
deep-dive into your case.
She's got 100 cases
on her caseload,
and she's the only person
in this courtroom
that's on your side.
But what about you?
Why I can't have
you as an attorney?
15 years ago, that public
defender would have been me.
But today...
do you have a $150,000 check
to start working on your case?
Not a lot of people do.
That's the prosecutor?
Yeah.
You don't think
I could just go in there
and explain my side?
Absolutely not.
You need to be stoic.
You cannot talk to the judge.
You cannot talk
to the prosecutor.
You absolutely cannot talk
to the jury.
You have to let your lawyer be
your voice.
The jury thinks
you're panicking,
they're going to look at it
like you're guilty.
You're taking the risk
of never getting out.
Are you absolutely sure
that you'd rather go to trial
than take a plea deal?
Choosing whether
to fall on the sword
for the sake of your art is
not always black and white.
Some people put on the music
because they want a peek
inside the lion's cage,
listening at a safe distance.
But in some places, that's
not always an option.
A producer named King Louie
invented the term Chiraq
and, along with it,
a bold new sound
that broke through the surface
of South Chicago.
all:
Nobody knows
The trouble I've seen
Not this sound.
This is just some
good gospel sh*t.
But we'll get back to that.
Nah, they called
it drill music.
And the politicians were
hell-bent
on stopping a movement
that they had helped create.
These hoes love
Chief Sosa
In Chicago today,
one of the high-rise buildings
in a notorious housing project
has been demolished.
Cabrini-Green has
been called the worst
project in the nation.
To begin, the projects
were isolated by race.
Politicians did not want
Blacks in their community.
No matter how terrible
the conditions now,
many Cabrini residents fear
the future they don't know.
If we take a look at the
demolishment of the projects,
the housing projects
here in Chicago,
there was never a plan.
These were huge
high-rise projects that
housed thousands of people.
Once the projects
got torn down,
the gangs within those
projects were also fractured.
And so there really
was no g*ng structure.
But there were only
certain neighborhoods
that people from the projects
would be able to move into.
Because you are trying
to group
all of these young people
from different gangs,
from different neighborhoods,
we start to see this uptick
in v*olence happening
on public transportation.
Young people have these
intergenerational connections
to gangs that they
just kind of inherited.
They were born into
a GD faction or a BD faction.
G Herbo, he talked
about how difficult it was
for him to get to school
at 7:00 in the morning.
That is not a safe time.
They think it's sweet
for you to get on a bus
and go to school.
But people that
are street involved
know that that's the time
that you can catch
somebody out on the street.
You just start to see these
things continue to play out,
to the point where
some young people start
dropping out of school
and, you know, just stop going
because of safety reasons.
And they just become
more street involved.
As we started to see, you know,
the Internet era take off,
social-media platforms
take off,
we also see that young people
are finding a need to discuss
what's happening
in their neighborhood.
And as we started to see more
young people
enter the rap game,
we see them implement
discussions about, you know,
things that are happening
within their neighborhood,
areas that
are not safe to travel in.
We see the threats
and retaliatory lyrics
come into play,
creating this
kind of perfect storm
for where we are
today with rap.
Drill music, in my opinion,
is just a very raw,
gritty sound of survival.
A lot of people
refer to drill music
as block music or hood music.
And that's really where
it got its origins.
Fake Shore Drive
is the music blog
that I created in 2007.
Drill came in and
was a huge disruptor,
just because it
happened really fast.
Right before that time
was, you got to pay dues.
You got to come through the
open-mic circuit in Chicago.
You got to play at these
venues and work your way up.
You got to kind of wait
your turn, in a way.
These kids did not
wait their turn.
It was like, let's
just get this stuff out
as fast as we can
and then do it again
and then multiply it.
The views just kept climbing.
I think they understood
what their fan base wanted.
And they delivered it to them.
We start to see, you know,
people with smartphones
making videos.
They used what means they had
that were accessible to them
to paint a picture
of what was actually
happening around them.
At that moment,
in 2012, 2013,
you could get
on the train in Chicago,
and there would be kids
huddled around a phone.
And they would be playing
Chief Keef videos.
[keys clacking]
That's that
sh*t I don't like
Yeah, don't like
You have this kid making
videos in his grandmother's
living room with
a bunch of guys
hanging out with
a bunch of weapons.
Other young people in
Chicago seeing, like,
wow...
he lives in a neighborhood
that looks just like mine.
And that's one
of the first times
that I really noticed cars
driving down the street.
And, like, every car--
didn't matter the race of
the person who was driving it.
Everybody was
playing that song.
It was raw.
It was real.
It was not, like, vetted by
a major label or a publicist.
You really start
to see this popularity
of creating drill music
as a means to try
to make a way out of the hood.
Once "I Don't Like"
happens, game over.
My phone is ringing
literally every day.
People I hadn't talked to
in years,
people who laughed in my face
about the Chicago scene
or artists that I would send
them were calling me,
begging me to introduce them
to Chief Keef
or their management.
We can't get Keef.
Who sounds like Keef?
Who could we get that
sounds like Chief Keef
that we could sign?
Man, it was just such
a feeding frenzy.
Money was getting
thrown around then.
Drill was what kicked the
doors down and made everybody
come here and, like, really
pay attention to what was
happening in the local scene.
We start to see individuals
already having a following.
And so, for a record label, it
would be very enticing to work
with an artist that already
has videos with tons of views
and streams.
You know, the more
violent the individual is,
the more people are tuned in,
commenting, liking.
Some of these fans are
really fanning the flames.
On the outside looking in
into some of these message
boards and YouTube videos,
it's like, people are
treating these artists
like they're not real people
with real families,
in real situations.
It's almost like they're
Marvel Cinematic Universe
characters.
You have the people
that are onlookers that
are, you know, tapping in
for entertainment
and just to engage in...
poverty voyeurism.
Once the public forms
a perception of you
and you're aware
of that, it's hard
not to play into those
roles that the public
creates for you.
There's some kids that
probably, at one point,
were sh**ting and
robbing and, you know,
going on drills, on their ops
and all that sh*t.
But then there's
a bunch of kids
that could articulate
that better than the kids
who actually are doing it.
And it becomes part
of their music.
[school bell rings]
In 2010, a rapper
by the name of Pac Man
dropped a song called
"It's A Drill."
It' a drill,
it's a drill
And a subgenre was born.
Hey, man, you know this
is Pac Man, Mr. Dro City.
- Sadly, he was taken from us
by the same reality
he was trying to depict.
I had to speak to his fam,
some of the original
drill rappers,
figure out if they think
the music is worth the risk.
Back
and we doing numbers
My n*gg*s help me
sweep the board
Like I'm with the Thunder
I know some n*gg*s from my
hood never leave the jungle
They say they
tryin' to see the world
But they Stevie Wonder,
can only wonder
The meeting is at 4:00,
but I'll be late, deadass
I had to blame it
on the MTA, deadass
Ozzy called to hit
me with the yerrr
So I hit him
with the yerrr
Said we been through
all the worst
We about to break
the curse
I got n*gg*s on my jack,
asking me to do a verse
Either debit, or it's cash
How do y'all feel like
the environment influences
the music that's being made?
There isn't any guidance
or structure out here.
Like, all of the parents
and the grandparents
want to be 20 again.
They so caught up in wanting
to party because that's
the way we was taught to deal
with trauma and pain,
was to get f*cked up
and party.
- Mm-hmm.
When we mad or try
to work something out,
everybody want to be on
the pedestal of being tough.
Why would they
rap about v*olence,
though, in the music?
- Because--
- It's their environment.
- That's all they seen.
- That's the environment.
- That's all we know.
It's like, I can't
rap about Miami
if I never been on the beach.
- Right.
I can't rap and say, yeah,
I'm on the beach kicking sand.
I never been on the beach
kicking no sand.
That's all they see, bro.
I see k*lling every day
when I walk out.
So it's like, this
is what we see.
And then we see that
people is making it
off just rapping they life.
This is my life.
I ain't tell nothing fake.
So with hustling come
everything with the streets.
You can't just pick
the hustle and say,
you going to escape
the v*olence.
It don't work like that.
The music is the
soundtrack to the sh*t.
Mm-hmm.
Like, I don't want to hear
no f*cking Ja Rule.
I don't want to hear no--
Even 50 Cent.
Like, I'm watching
50 Cent get rich.
But when I put on "Sosa,"
when I put on anything
from Chicago,
they got Glocks in the video.
They got this--
- And now that's the move.
It touched everybody,
that this sh*t was going
on in their areas anyway.
How do y'all
feel about labels?
Is it a trust?
Is it a mistrust?
My mother was telling
me from day one,
give me a copy
of your contract.
I hid it from her
when I signed.
I'm fresh out of high school.
You want to sign me
here for $100,000?
That was a lot of money
in 2010, 2011, you know?
But they just
signing people off--
Actors.
You really a actor.
Well, law enforcement
is using rap lyrics
to convict people in court.
How do y'all feel about that?
Is it something that crosses
your mind when you writing?
Are you like, I'm
not going to say that?
- It's entertainment.
- Entertainment.
You know what I'm saying?
Nah, that sh*t
ain't entertainment.
A lot of that sh*t be real.
- Some of it is entertainment.
You rap the truth,
you deserve to go to jail.
Put it like that--
you rap the truth,
you deserve to go to jail
for it 'cause you told.
You told on yourself.
That's like going and sitting
in the interview room.
You told.
It's all on tape.
Choices, bro.
It's choices.
That's kind of
like an oxymoron...
You choose to rap
about this sh*t.
because if you're not a
real rapper, people are going
to be like, you ain't real.
You rap about life
that ain't you.
And they go, ah, man,
you ain't rap about--
Nah.
It's a lot of people
out here doing that.
What's the difference from
you k*lling a m*therf*cker
in a movie and you making
a song on a soundtrack?
Or how is it that--
I might have had
a dream about some sh*t.
And I wake up, and I'm
storytelling in a song.
Boom.
You're going to
use that against me?
Just because you
say it in a song,
that don't mean you did it.
Now, let me
interject on that.
Entertainment.
You just compared
music to a movie, right?
All right, cool. You know what
happen at the end of a movie?
They give m*therf*ckers
they credits.
So, if a m*therf*cker
wrote this for you,
at the end of every rap video,
it should be
m*therf*cking credits.
This script was written
by the director.
This part played by who?
Hell, no.
Who the f*ck
thinking about putting a--
But I'm saying, though--did
we not just ask the question?
Is it not deep as hell
if law enforcement
using this to send
m*therf*ckers to jail?
Listen, who's thinking
about going to jail for making
a damn song and a video, man?
If I see the m*therf*cker
go to jail
for making a song or a video,
I'ma cover my ass.
The prop that I had
in "Go In" video,
they tried to use that against
me with a g*n case
that I caught, what,
a week or two later,
a g*n that I never seen in my
life, a g*n I never touched.
Yeah.
All because I was at the
wrong place at the wrong time.
The police always painted me
out as this, this, and that.
Like...
- 'Cause she's a rapper.
- Yeah.
- Yeah.
Before they had lyrics,
they had witnesses.
They ain't doing
their motherfuckin' work.
The k*lling and sh*t
would be at a minimum
if that was the case.
- [scoffs]
All the hopes
that people write about,
all the fears,
fantasies,
no wonder they can't figure
out which parts are fact
and which parts are
fiction in the music.
[raps indistinctly]
Either way, we're putting
ourselves in danger...
Because if all they
hear is evidence,
how much space does that leave
us to talk about our lives?
Black folks' intelligence
has been questioned
for generations.
And what you had in rap
is some Black kids bust
onto the cultural scene
with a kind of eloquence
and a kind of virtuosity
with the language
that was undeniable.
I first heard, coming out after
my constitutional law class,
somebody had a speaker
out their window.
And I heard,
"f*ck the police,
"comin' straight
from the underground,
"a young n*gga got it bad
'cause I'm Brown
"and not the other color,
so police think they have the
authority to k*ll a minority."
I heard political speech.
What gangsta rap
did was saying,
we reject the respectability
politics approach.
It's like a civil w*r
going on with Black people.
And there's two sides.
There's Black people,
and there's n*gg*s.
And n*gg*s have got to go.
Boy, I wish they'd let me
join the Ku Klux Klan.
sh*t, I'd do a drive-by
from here to Brooklyn.
Tired of n*gg*s...
People like Chris Rock
are launching
their comedic career
in a routine like
"Bring the Pain" in '96, '97.
His core definition
of a so-called n*gga
is a Black criminal.
Up to 90% of the
young Black males
in some of these inner-city
neighborhoods
are going to wind up
in jail, on probation,
or on parole at some
point in their lives.
So we're saying up to 90%
of our own youth are n*gg*s?
We're ready to condemn them,
to morally condemn them
like that
because they got caught up
in the criminal-justice system?
Yes, that's how we were
thinking in the '90s.
And that's how many
of us still think.
A lot of these folks talk
about, I'm that criminal.
I'm from the life of crime.
So let me give you the
so-called n*gga perspective
and create sympathetic
identification
by bringing the people
a narrative
they haven't heard before.
That's the value of the music.
Hold up.
Let's take it back to
the original gangster stories
told in the English language.
Et tu, Brute?
[all gasp, murmuring]
My Master's degree is in
English Renaissance Literature
with a focus on Shakespeare.
[fanfare playing]
I see lots of ways
to compare Shakespeare
to contemporary rappers.
Shakespeare, he came
onto the scene in London.
He's an upstart
playwright and poet.
He would write for and
about the lower classes,
drawing attention
to their struggles.
Unlike many of his peers,
he does not have
the formal education.
He was bawdy.
He was funny, often hyper
violent in his plays.
He's accused of
plagiarizing, of stealing.
He took things from all
different directions
and assembled them in new
and unique and creative ways.
Anybody who's familiar
with rap music,
certainly during
the heyday of sampling,
remembers those same
criticisms of rappers.
And Shakespeare is credited
with introducing new words
to the English language.
Think about how our
everyday lexicon
has changed because of rap
artists doing similar things.
[dramatic music]
When it comes
to getting even,
not much has changed since
the time of Shakespeare.
The Chicago Teachers Union
boss, Karen Lewis,
put it this way...
The day is hot.
The Capulets are abroad.
And if we meet, we shall
not escape a brawl,
for now these hot days
is the mad blood stirring.
Thou art like
one of those fellows
that, when he enters
the confines of a bar,
slaps his g*n on
the table and says,
God, send me no need of this.
And by the second drink...
he draws it on the bartender...
when indeed there is no need.
Thou would quarrel
with a man that
hath a hair more or a hair less
in his beard than thou hast.
And did thou not fall
out with another for tying
his new shoes with old laces?
[chuckles]
By my head, here
comes a Capulet.
By my heel, I care not.
Follow me close, for
I will speak to them.
Gentlemen, good afternoon.
A word with one of you?
Tybalt keeps a cautious
distance with the members
of the Montague family.
The GDs and Vice Lords...
have fought for decades,
the original feud long
forgotten but kept
alive by each man's duty
to avenge their fallen kin.
And only one word
with one of us?
Couple it with something.
Make it a word and a blow.
You shall find me apt
enough to that, sir,
if you will give
me the opportunity.
We talk in the public view
of men.
Either withdraw unto
some private place
or reason calmly your
grievances or else depart.
Here all eyes gaze on us.
Men's eyes were made to look.
Let them gaze.
I will not budge
for no man's pleasure.
[g*nshots]
[high-pitched ringing]
It shouldn't be normal
to see people die
before their time...
yet here we are.
And when
we can't find meaning,
what more is there to do
but lift every voice and sing?
I've got an angel
Watching over me
[gospel music playing]
I've got an angel
Yes, I do, yes, I do
Watching over me
And my angel
Ooh, I know
I know I can't see
- Yeah. Yeah.
I got an angel,
yes, I do
- Say it.
- To watch over me
Yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah, yeah
all:
I've got an angel
Yeah, watching
all:
Watching over me
Yeah, I got an angel
all:
I've got an angel
Yeah, yeah, what
is your angel doing?
all: Watching over me
- Yeah.
He got enough angels
to go all around
And my angel
all:
And my angel
Is there to protect me
all: Is there to protect me
I got an angel
all:
I've got an angel
Yeah, yeah, watching
over me, yeah
all:
I've got an angel
Yeah, yeah,
watching over me, yeah
all:
I've got an angel
Thank God for my angel
all:
I've got an angel
Yeah, yeah, he's
a-watchin' over me, yeah
all:
I've got an angel
What's he doing?
Watching over
all:
Watching over me
During the nighttime,
I got an angel
all:
Watching over me
I got an angel
all: Watching over me
Clap your hands
for your angel.
[applause]
- Hallelujah.
Clap your hands
for your angel.
Hallelujah.
Music is a healing force.
But can lyrics really
deliver us from the evils?
Or do they doom us
to repeat the past?
[device chimes, vibrates]
[bell dings]
Ladies and gentlemen,
the captain
has turned on
the "fasten seat belt" sign.
Thanks for flying with us.
IC3 on ITV
If I see you,
then I release
London.
Please release
all my Gs
My next door got IPP
She got a soft spot
for the gunmen
Man hit that sh*t
from the back
While I pull on her tracks,
babe, say West London
Let's have fun, then
[indistinct chatter]
This is the most
controversial sound
in Britain.
It's been called
dark and nihilistic.
The authorities have
linked a wave of v*olence
to an underground form of rap
music known as drill music.
After it left Chicago,
drill went global.
In the UK, labels
were sending gifts
to drill rappers in prison to
try and convince them to sign
before they even got out.
The Metropolitan Police
was paying close attention.
Meanwhile, in Brooklyn
and the Bronx,
drill rappers were
the new rock stars.
Fivio Foreign's
video for "Big Drip"
was pushing 85 million views.
Imagine my surprise
when I found out
how many of those
beats came from
a 19-year-old in East London.
Hey, Crip sh*t, hey
I heard they wanted to
ban New York drill, right?
Yeah, absolutely.
The mayor--
They tried to do
that in the UK as well.
- Did they?
- Yeah.
[laughs]
Tried to ban UK drill.
You know, they're
serious with it
when it comes to drill music--
take down videos,
banning artists.
That's why UK drill rappers,
they've got to hide their face.
- Like, literally wear a mask?
- Wear a mask.
- Oh, snap.
- It's crazy, man.
[hip-hop b*at plays]
That's hard.
- [laughs]
- That's hard.
Gonna add that bass
coming in, dropped in here.
[rapping indistinctly]
[dramatic music]
- In the mid-2000s,
London was en route
to becoming one of
the most surveilled cities
in the world.
A lot of public space
was being privatized
under new Labour policies.
A lot of people in
the UK don't necessarily
realize the level
of surveillance that
is in operation by the state.
Surveillance in the UK
is actually quite normalized, scarily.
There are CCTV cameras
across urban areas,
in private and public spaces.
The UK is more
surveillance oriented
than almost any other country--
one of the most in the world.
And this has
a really detrimental
impact in court cases.
They have complete editorial
control in these cases.
So they can draw on the
bits of evidence they want,
leaving other things
on the cutting-room floor,
so to speak.
It's not just music videos
and lyrics, which we see
is used as evidence
in court now.
It can be social
media posts, captions,
comments on social media.
I've spoken with multiple
UK drill rappers and producers
who will say, oh, it's
almost like there's
a guy in the police, and
he's just paid to sit
there and watch our videos.
And there's a kind of awkward--
awkward moment where
I'm like, well, yeah,
that's actually true.
This kind of
state-sanctioned surveillance
is the modus operandi
of the biggest
police force in the UK.
I've worked in
cases where there'll
be a list of videos
which the prosecution are
seeking to rely on.
And there's reference
to them having been
sourced through Project Alpha.
To put it in the
most basic terms,
it assembles and then
monitors a database
tracking the online
lives, essentially,
of mostly young people.
And this involves scouring
social-media accounts,
but also, in particular,
YouTube.
This has increased
year on year
by hundreds of percent.
They have what's called
trusted-flagger status
with YouTube,
which means that the Met
has gone to YouTube
and made a case
for having
a higher level of authority
so that they can flag a video
that they say is harmful
or threatening
or inciting v*olence
or being possibly connected
to an ongoing case.
And the video will
be taken down.
There's no real evidence that
this practice prevents crime.
But there is evidence that it's
destroying careers of artists.
We're talking top 10 to not
being in the top 100 charts.
Like, it's so important
for an artist's career.
And I think they know that.
I've asked them
if they monitor
videos of any other genre.
And they were perplexed
by this as a question.
[siren wailing]
I've seen the police go
through a young person's phone
and search the amount of times
that they've searched
the word "drill"
to suggest their interest
in criminal subculture.
And for me, it really
is quite ridiculous.
I've also seen, like,
the police search terms like
"s*ab-proof vest"
to show the young person's
concern with v*olence.
But from a trauma-informed
perspective,
if a young person is searching
about s*ab-proof vests,
that indicates
that they're scared
that they might come
to some form of harm,
not necessarily that they're
involved in perpetrating it.
Lyrics are often mistranslated
by police officers who claim
to be experts on rap.
For example, something
like "make a killin',"
which we know means to
make a lot of money,
I've seen that translated to
suggest that the young person
had the intent of m*rder.
In a lot of these cases, what
the prosecution is inviting
the court or jury to do is to
infer that someone is a member
associated with a g*ng.
Once that term "g*ng"
is deployed by the state,
it has a really detrimental
impact on young people.
[sighs] The most common way
that you see drill
being used as evidence
is through what's known
as Joint Enterprise law,
which is similar
to U.S. RICO charges.
It's used to imply
guilt by association.
If there's three
people in a track,
and one person is suspected
of doing X, Y, and Z,
playing that video
to a jury might cause them
to attribute all
of the sentiments
to any of the artists
featured on it.
Where it's
particularly significant
is that you will be charged
as the primary.
If there's a m*rder, you'll
be charged for m*rder.
The police powers
in this country
are getting more extreme.
And some of this playbook
is being formulated
in and through
the targeting of rappers.
I'm not involved in any g*ng
activity or illegal behavior.
I also don't own--
I have no type of access
to no type of illegal firearms.
You get it?
And I ain't out here
trying to endanger
anyone's life either, man.
These rappers in the UK
know they being watched.
And if the police are using
rap artists as guinea pigs,
what does that mean
for the postal worker,
the nurse, the bartender
who find their lives under
the microscope of the state?
[indistinct chatter]
Does power ever know
when to stop?
[elevator bell dings]
[device chimes, vibrates]
[rapping indistinctly]
[door opens, bells jingle]
Hey, are you Lavida?
- Yes, hello. Hi.
- How you doing? Kemba.
both:
Nice to meet you.
I'm a mobster, I been out,
finally let the king out
Still got the heart
to bring my tool
And back the ting out
I don't take
well to a draw-out
Mind what you say
if it's my name...
So you call yourself
the King of Drill?
- The King of Female Drill.
- Oh, the King of Female Drill.
Okay, what makes you say that?
- Mm-hmm. Yes.
The bars, baby. Like...
[laughter]
A lot of the time, it comes
from what I'm going through.
I started to write
poetry from a young age.
And then that kind of
transferred into music.
Were you able to find a
sense of community or people--
No, I think the first time
I found a sense of community
was jail.
And that's where I really
found myself as a person.
I did about four years.
I went in 16, came out
just before 21.
- Yeah, you grew up a lot?
- Yeah, I grew up a lot.
I wouldn't be where I am now if
I didn't have that experience,
at all.
- Wow.
Were you writing?
- Yeah, writing.
That's where I decided I want
to be a rapper, in jail, yeah.
And the girls on the
wing pushed me as well.
They used to tell me,
Lav, come and rap for us.
Come and sing for us
on the wing and stuff.
Like, yeah, they pushed me
to chase this dream, really.
They always told me,
you're bigger than this.
Have you heard about
what's happening now
where people are using
lyrics as evidence
against rappers in court?
Yeah. [chuckles]
That's happened to me.
- Has it?
- Yes.
Oh, please tell
me about that.
[chuckles]
Well, I released some music
after I'd come out of prison.
They're taking all of
my music, like, as evidence
for my deportation case.
They took one of
my songs on my--
the chorus is, g*n on
my hip, g*n in the crib,
g*n in the ride--just lyrics.
[laughs]
And the judge read them
out word for word--
g*n on my hip, g*n on my--
- No.
[laughs] I was trying
so hard not to laugh.
No way.
But I had to stop
making drill music.
Like, they told you
you can't make--
Yeah, well, I got a warning.
If I carry on "inciting"
g*ng v*olence...
And if they had it
their way, yeah,
I wouldn't still be doing this.
I felt a bit hurt, too,
because it's like,
this is the only thing that
I can do to change my life.
I can't get a job.
My criminal record is
too crazy to get a job.
I'm not, like,
good at anything else.
Like, the only thing
I feel like I was ever good at
was music.
The only thing I feel like
I was born to do is music.
So how are you trying to
even stop me doing that?
I'm not troubling no one.
I'm not doing anything.
Like, if you take
that away from me,
I am going to end
up going back.
It was a lot of emotion...
[conversation fades out]
Now sit back, relax,
and enjoy the flight
to New York City.
Just like Lavida, I don't
know where I'd be without rap
or how I would have seen
a world outside the X.
So I think that's where
I need to go next,
back to my own backyard,
talk to somebody who was
in the same place I was--
searching for a way out.
[distant dog barking]
Yo, what's good, y'all?
- Hey, yo, what's up?
What's good, G?
How you doing, G?
- What's going on, boy?
- What's good, G?
What's good, man?
- Chilling, man.
You from the X, right?
Where you from?
- It's a fact--[bleep].
- Oh, you from [bleep]?
Now, I ain't going
to lie, I heard
you said you was the face
of the Bronx.
Fact.
How the f*ck you gonna
tell me they better than me?
When I already
know that they not?
Bro got locked
for a sh**t', he in a cell
He not scared 'cause
he know how to box
Free Dot...
You got sh*t when you was 15?
That's a fact.
n*gg*s know what I'm saying
is really facts,
so that's why n*gg*s
start f*ckin' with it.
The best way is to go gritty,
all your way through,
till you get to that bread.
- Oh, I feel it.
sh*t, I want to
hear some sh*t, yo.
Let's go to the car.
Sha grew up 15 minutes
from me but 10 years apart.
There's not much
difference between him
and the famous rappers
you see on TV.
People are being
entertained just the same.
But Sha's still in the middle
of it, still in the trenches.
And his fans love him for it.
So, when you make music,
where does it come from?
From everything I've been
through, the pain, the...
me wanting to make it out.
When you was coming up,
was the goal to get signed?
You was like,
yo, I'm gonna get signed?
Hell, yeah,
it was to get signed.
But I ain't really
think it could happen.
It ain't seem possible?
No, people like us,
we don't got sh*t.
So you got to take advantage.
When you wake up
in the morning,
do you feel like Sha?
Or is there a different person
than the person making
the songs in the music video?
I feel like
a different person.
- Yeah?
- Yeah.
Like, I just feel like
my old self, basically.
What you mean, your old self?
Like, before all
this music sh*t.
It's not a lot of fun.
Do you feel a pressure?
Right now everybody want
to put everything on me.
They problems is my problems.
And I got my own problems.
You got, like, mad people's,
like, hopes
on your back type sh*t.
- Word. Mad people.
How do you deal with that?
I just get high.
[laughter]
On the real sh*t,
I just get high.
I feel it.
I just get high,
get high, get high
until I just forget about it.
Then I go rap.
And that's why I rap,
because rap is, like,
therapeutic for me.
Like, that's, like, my therapy.
I could rap to the mic.
And then after that,
I be like, this sh*t not
even that serious.
People hear the music,
might see an interview,
get an idea about you.
Are there things people,
like, misunderstand?
Hell, yeah, everything.
I'm just a kid that
just found a way to...
tell my story in a good way.
- Yeah.
- Because they don't want it
the other way
that I used to be.
I'm just trying to tell
my story in a good way.
And God put this
way in front of me.
And I took it.
'Cause living here,
you at risk.
You could be an innocent kid,
and something
will happen to you.
Whatever's in the past, sh*t
always come back to bite you.
So, with the success or not,
you just got to know, like,
what you signed up for.
You feel like
you could blow up
and stay where you grew up at?
Hell, no.
I got a daughter.
I got to think different now.
Is there anything
that maybe you didn't have
that you want for her?
A crib, two parents
in the house...
All of that.
Just able to eat whenever...
and don't got to worry what's
your next meal, what's, like...
- Yeah.
- Survival.
Like, she don't got to
worry about none of that.
She can be a regular kid.
She can be a regular
person in the world.
She can hear
what I went through
and just go a different route.
A bunch of people
in my hood that--
from basketball to rapping
to everything--
that had a chance
and f*cked it up.
And now they
back to the block.
That's my biggest
fear right there.
I got some unreleased
to show you, my boy.
Let me hear something, man.
I'm the last one left
I can't lose my mind over
this sh*t, baby, I'm solid
I made it out, and I ain't
even go to college
f*ck it, they gonna
think I'm dumb
I don't give a f*ck 'cause
I be walkin' with my g*n
Go get back,
get back for your son
He was saying Poppa Jiggy
Now that n*gga in my lungs
I be going through sh*t,
but I'm never gonna fold
Know my mother happy 'cause
she see me getting old
I told her to thank my g*n
When the ops see me,
this sh*t gonna blow so fast
It don't matter
if a little n*gga run
Tell them n*gg*s
I'm a sh**t
My bitch bad, when I
f*ck her, I abuse her
p*ssy so good
when she brought bricks
I want to boom her
I just have to tell her,
bae, don't listen to them
This how this sh*t
get in the Bronx
n*gg*s be capping,
they gonna smoke him dead
But they gonna
cop it when they lacking
Rapping got to work, or we
going right back to trapping
I was dead broke, but
some way I made it happen
Some way I made it happen
When they used to see
a n*gga down
They started laughing
They ain't told me
how to get that bread
They told me, clap sh*t,
go and get that ratchet
Pop a brick and
go and blast sh*t
Go and catch a halo,
put a n*gga in a casket
Now I do this
for my daughter
I'ma make sure
that she has sh*t
I can't lose my mind over
this sh*t, baby, I'm solid
I made it out, and I ain't
I ain't even go to college
f*ck it,
they gonna say I'm dumb
I don't give a f*ck 'cause
I be walking with my g*n
Go get back,
get back for your son
He was saying Poppa Jiggy
Now that n*gga in my lungs
I be going through sh*t,
but I'm never gonna fold
Know my mother happy 'cause
she see me getting old
My G, good looks, man.
Thank you.
- Hey, bro, appreciate you.
- Good luck with everything.
- Out of here.
[car door closes]
[distant siren wailing]
They already make
so many assumptions.
[dramatic music]
We want to protect
the right of everybody
to share who they are
and where they come from.
The First Amendment
protects five freedoms.
It's about protecting
the freedom of belief first,
the ideas
that are in your head.
Next, it's about
freedom of speech.
So you're not only allowed
to hold these ideas,
but you're allowed
to share them
with those who are around you.
And then the freedom
of the press.
So now you've had the idea.
You've spoken the idea.
It also protects the right
to disseminate that idea,
to publish that idea,
online or other ways
that we convey messages
across time and space.
And then you have
the freedom of assembly.
So you've had an idea.
You've communicated that idea.
You've disseminated
that idea widely.
And now you're coming
together and mobilizing folks
to feel strength in numbers
and to activate
around this idea.
And, finally, the right
to bring those ideas
right to the seat of power
to try to change
the society around you.
So, in that way, we can read
the First Amendment
as protecting the journey
from an idea to a movement.
We can criminalize
rap all we want.
But that's not going to
resolve the root of the issue.
We need to listen and really
take action around addressing
the systemic issues that
are causing young people
to experience these realities.
We're at the beginning
of the process of drafting
some legislation
to lobby the music industry
and the politicians
and say that this isn't
something that should happen.
We have to protect speech,
protect artistry,
and we have to be able
to, in my opinion,
not only protect those things,
but we got to protect hip-hop.
And that's what this
bill is responding to...
Decades of over-prosecution
based on artistic expression.
I think it's
important for people
to urge their own
state legislatures
to do something similar.
California has passed a law.
And we're continuing
to see more
and more states consider this.
If we don't fight back,
we're going to be left
without our rights.
We got to fight back
for the transgressive art,
the art that's willing
to say the unsayable.
The stakes are
there for all of us.
And if we lose this case,
then, you know, who's next?
What was it that
Shakespeare said--
all the world's a stage?
[muffled, echoing]
This is it.
Are you absolutely sure that
you'd rather go to trial...
[normal voice]
Than take a plea deal?
I think so.
Okay.
Then good luck.
Members of the jury,
all the prosecution
has offered today is music,
just Mr. Jefferson's
creative expression.
That is not sufficient
to show that he committed
this crime
beyond a reasonable doubt.
We ask that you return
a verdict
of not guilty.
Prosecution, you may proceed
with your rebuttal.
Ahh.
Members of the jury...
as we know
from various witnesses'
compelling testimony,
a good man,
an upstanding citizen...
was sh*t and k*lled.
The clear responsibility
for that k*lling
lies at the feet of not
only the g*ng member
who pulled the trigger
but of the man who sits
in this courtroom right here,
the defendant,
who willfully promoted,
furthered assisted,
and benefited
from the criminal conduct
of that g*ng.
In this device, this 2-way...
the defendant wrote
his most intimate thoughts.
Now, ladies and gentlemen,
I don't have to tell you
about this man's thirst
for v*olence.
You just have to listen
to his own words.
"I got some N-words
in my crosshairs.
"Got to burn some bridges
as the torch bearer.
"Get the cowards off the block.
"I'm worried for my enemies.
"I've been hitting
up the opposition.
"Where is
the mother-effin' safe at?
As soon as God forgive me,
I'm going to sin again."
His own words say it all.
The defendant's
motive was clear--
to rob and k*ll.
And without him, the victim,
a husband and a father...
might still be alive today.
Instead, what do we have?
[sighs] A widow...
a shattered home...
and a city that feels
fundamentally unsafe
every time you step foot
in a convenience store.
That's not the way
things were meant to be.
Do you want to make
the world a safer place?
The only way to bring justice
to this family...
is to find that man guilty.
The prosecution rests.
Members of the jury,
you've heard all the testimony
concerning the case.
You, and you alone,
are the judges of the facts.
[gavel bangs]
We are adjourned.
Now the jury deliberates.
This is your last chance.
There's no shame
in taking the plea, Kemba.
[echoing] Don't help
your enemies destroy you.
I'm ready.
Roll the tape.
When I wrote this, there
wasn't no studio audience,
no one applauding it,
movie recording it.
Just a devil on one shoulder,
angel on one shoulder, arguing.
One saying, keep it calm.
One saying, no, go in.
Been building a bunch of
bridges under two conditions.
When you talk, I listen.
When I talk, you listen.
But some people
still won't get it.
Maybe they lacking senses,
lacking empathy,
lack of interest, lack of
experience with the Blacks.
Maybe the accents make
them apprehensive.
Might have to flip from Queens,
flip to the queen's English
for these academics.
Okay, then, listen.
They never cared
to make amends.
They'd rather make amendments.
Used to auction off the n*gg*s,
now they profit off of prisons.
That incentives shape
environments,
environments make conditions.
The conditions
shape the culture,
then they focus
on the symptoms.
Make a profit off,
make a mockery of,
then lock you up for lyrics.
You get it?
'Cause I ain't about
to say no specifics.
'Cause nowadays
you can say what happened.
But we don't know who did it.
But they going to
pop up at your door
like they Jehovah's Witness.
Judge spell out the sentence
like you in
grown-ups' business.
They want what's in you
without you.
Want our rhythm,
not our blues.
Took the spirit out the soul.
Now it feel like dj vu.
Took the pulse out the flows.
Now it's givin' Dr. Seuss.
If you see them n*gg*s
jumping out the gym,
it's not the shoes.
The news gets you caught
up in the angles--
the rich and famous,
confessions in a hidden
language, the image gangster.
I see the dark skin
contrasting off different pavements.
Lives tangle with the forces
like two distant strangers.
So, when the chalk
hit the asphalt
and there's rhymes
in his RAV4
so Fox say it's rap fault,
you got what you asked for.
Where they get the experts on
them lyrics--the task force?
How badly you think
they want to win it?
The task force.
As we speak, they piecin'
meaning on the newest song,
clapping on the 1 and 3,
nodding on the 2 and 4,
we could see the undercovers
peeking through the door.
Uniformed John Cena, like
I ain't never seen you before.
[echoing]
Be seated.
[normal voice]
Have you reached a verdict?
Yes, Your Honor.
We, the jury,
in the case
of the State of New York
versus
Matthew "Kemba" Jefferson...
[voice muffles]
Find the defendant...
As we speak, they tuning
laws like a blues guitar.
Just change the melody,
and they gonna think
it's a new song.
Just like our medicine, they
never address the root cause.
Just reap the rewards and snip
the strange fruit off.
I know they gonna do
their worst as we speak.
Thoughts blurred, like
I said the seven words, FCC.
But if any of my words spark
a nerve, irk a nerve,
work your nerve,
make you nervous,
then it's working as we speak.
The only man born
that can never die
I'm on the platform of
the 5, on the train tracks
Finna fall back,
I'ma electrify
I close black holes
for my exercise
Your both eyes went blind
when you read the signs
I think you better have
a shift in paradigm
I quit my desktop job,
then I severed ties
I wore the same
two-piece suit seven times
I'm all on it,
my name's all on it
I came to the Earth
with a saint to forewarn it
I came from the dirt,
but I sprang and dug on it
It wouldn't have worked
without rain to pour on it
The hero once sung
but a one child
With a son sister sundialed
resurrected blood
When the suns down
in the slums
'Cause he went one-on-one
for one round with a cop
And got gunned down
in his own town, God damn
Heart beats
Heart beats,
heart beats, heart beats
Long as my heart beats
Heart, heart, heart beats,
heart beats, heart beats
I'm fully aware
that I'm not perfect
But I try
I still try, I still try
You can see my feelings
on the surface I can't hide
But I still try,
I still try
I don't even really wanna
get to know ya
Statistics show
One of us might go soon
No, I don't even really
wanna get to know ya
'Cause I can't take
no more heartbreak
I can't stand to see
my brothers die
I can't stand to read
my sister's will
I can't stand to see
our mothers cry
I can't stand to see
my n*gg*s k*lled
I'm too young to see
the other side
I can't stand to read
my sister's will
I can't stand to lose
another life
I can't stand to see
the K*llers live
As We Speak: Rap Music on Trial (2024)
Moderator: Maskath3