By TQ
Back to the lecture at hand…
Too much funny sh*t was going on at Cash Money. I always considered Baby a helluva hustla. That ni**a could brown paper bag a whole region in a week. Man we was out doing parties and shows, two and three a nite! 30 stacks here, 50 stacks there…
The Big Tymers were hot! We made a hot a** album, and Bubba and Fresh were smashing the old way. I’d go to the bus, get my bread and jump on my rack with a coke and a smile! Sh*t I’m gettin’ paid b*tches! LOL! I was singing all the hooks!
But what about everybody else? Why am I buying food for our security? Why do “our” ni**as have to come to me and ask for a room when they wanna get down with a chick? Why don’t any of them have a dub in their pockets? These are
your ni**as patna!
We had one bus that was extra raggedy. It was real f**ked up. It had 15 bunks and 27 ni**as on it. The air conditioner would go out and ni**as would argue cuz of the stress. We used to call it the Shark Bus.
I used to ride with Slim cuz he always had some food, some good movies, and a chick taking care of everybody… Not like that! Ya know, cooking and going to buy T-shirts and sh*t. LOL! I’d go to the Shark Bus cuz it was like the block…The Streets. The streets talk. Ni**as wasn’t happy.
Baby had a bunch of gangstas on the road – ni**as that did 10’s and 15’s and busted all kinds of head in the city. They had his back, so when they’d touch down, he’d put them on the payroll. I used to f**k with all of them cuz I liked to hear them talk about each other back in the day. New Orleans got some cold gangsta history…I wanna do a movie about that sh*t one day.
Anyway, ni**as started seriously beefing, and I’d come off that Shark Bus and put my thang on my bunk. How this ni**a Baby gonna have all these killers out here starving while he’s out here with a million dollars in jewelry and cash on him? We over here on this plush a** bus eating crawfish, drinking and smoking while them ni**as over there burning up trying to piece up money for meals?
These ain’t MY ni**as! They HIS ni**as! When they strike his a** what the f**k u think they gonna do to me? Remember this:
I’m an outsider. I’m the one that didn’t grow up with the rest of them. I’m just listening, making observations and trying to be a diplomat…
Too much funny sh*t… I couldn’t get past the “Fake a** ni**as” thing. If they’re considered that and I’m rolling with them, then what are they gonna consider me? I worked too hard for the love I got. I ain’t trying to lose it over my business ventures with a ni**a that ain’t considered trill.
See I ate with Baby.
That was my ni**a. I’ll never understand him and why he does the sh*t he does. Two minutes after he makes you think he’s 100, he’ll pull some f**k sh*t to make you hate him. That ni**a’s crazy. Period. Shouldn’t be a problem. He ain’t the only crazy ni**a, I know. But now my boss is fake? My crew is suspect? I had to start distancing myself, cuz sh*t is getting way too real.
I still didn’t have a release date. Mannie was fighting to get them to put my album out cuz me and Wayne were riding off “Way of Life.” That song blew up, and Fresh wanted to drop a single right behind it. Baby wanted to go on tour, so naturally that’s what we did. Every time we had a couple of days off I’d try to follow Fresh, cuz I knew he was gonna work and ball out. Not the Baby way, but the Fresh way!
With Mannie, it’s gonna be some fun involved. We going to Disneyworld or Six Flags or some sh*t and hittin’ a bar to get drunk with random people who don’t know who the f**k we are. By the end of the night, we know everybody, we got tickets for the game from somebody’s mom or sister. We piss drunk and headed back to the studio. I’m sponsoring the eye candy. Holla!
Baby wasn’t trying to hear none of this. He wanted me to run around to these clubs where it’s a bunch of ni**as standing around and no women. He wanted me to sing all his hooks for him and help him promote his sh*t. For that, he was down to pay, so most times I was down to ride. After a while, I start asking him about my sh*t though. Man what the f**k? When we gonna drop an album ni**a? He’d say, “It’s coming T… I’ma get you hot first!” Yeah? Seems like I’m getting YOU hot ni**a…
If y’all remember from the previous installments, I make my living outside of this country. All this time I’m spending here f**king around with CMR, I’m not putting anything out overseas. I’m missing them Pounds and Euros by the crate! Herein lies another f**k up… I shouldn’t have done a worldwide deal with these cats. We figured it was Universal, so they had a serious staff in other territories. We didn’t figure that Cash Money wouldn’t deliver an album. This was the beginning of the end…
Out of nowhere the Birdman comes with this idea. “T we gonna do an album together. We gonna call it R&B and Rap.” I’m like, “Ok… Who’s gonna do the ‘rap’ part?” LOL! Anyway, if it’s gonna help me get some sh*t out for my fans, then let’s do it. We get started on the record, and it’s coming along when we go to Chicago for a show. Gotti brings R. Kelly to the show and they perform “Fiesta.” This was Kellz’ first performance since the whole sex tape sh*t, and Chi-town gave the ni**a so much love he couldn’t believe it.
Me and Wayne were behind the stage about to go on, and we heard him talking to Gotti. He was nervous. He thought he’d get booed. We knew he wouldn’t. R. Kelly? In Chicago? Never. Anyway, he was real grateful to Baby for letting him perform that night and invited us to come out to his house.
We started f**kin’ with dude real heavy after that. All of a sudden one day this ni**a Baby is on the phone with Kelly. The ni**a says this and I quote… “Man, if dude don’t wanna cooperate you can do
The Best of Both Worlds II with me! We can call it R&B and Rap!”…end quote. I couldn’t f**kin’ believe this ni**a. It was a wrap for his a** in my book…
Kelly agreed, and we went to Chicago and started on their record. I took it on the chin and kept it moving. Outta all the ni**as that rap that I’d wanna do an album with, Bird, bless his heart, would prolly be last…Or I’d prolly just do it by myself. Or maybe even let my son rap on it…lol! Whatever.
In true TQ fashion, I persuaded him to pay me five extra stacks per song, ‘cause this is some “historic boss sh*t.” “You and Kellz? Boy, that’s big!” He went for it. I took my a** to the studio… Chalk one up for the mouthpiece. Quiet as it’s kept, them ni**as’ album was gonna be hot. We had done about 15 songs, and I was all over it. I’m saying to myself, “We gonna break the bank off mechanicals next year” – but God don’t like ugly. And never count your bread before it’s in your pocket…Looks like bird sh*t for the Birdman.
Kellz changed his numbers and went and did
The Best of Both Worlds II with Jigga. Baby found out when “Big Chips” hit the radio. We were in Miami. I never saw the ni**a more excited than at the idea of doing that album with Kelly. I never saw the ni**a more f**ked up than when he heard that song. I know a lotta ni**as that woulda loved to be there that day and see the expression on his face. Payback is a muthaf**ka.
My dumb a** felt bad for the dude. I told y’all I liked him. He was my ni**a and we had a lot of good times. But when my manager called me later that day and told me not to go back to N.O. I knew it was a wrap. See, my lawyer had been working on Universal to get me out of the deal. Cash Money was in breach.
They were a year past the deadline in putting my album out. They were late on publishing checks. My lawyer threatened to audit, and that would blow the roof off BG’s case, along with Juve, Fresh, Wayne, and Turk. Shady, double-sided contracts for Boo & Gotti and Mikkey would all have to be brought into court. They didn’t want that sh*t. They wrote me a check and voided my contract.
We had a show that night, and I was on a plane to La Leezy. I may as well have had a “Cash Deez” sticker on my forehead on the plane that nite. I took my chain off and threw it in my carry-on. I felt like I had wasted three years f**kin with these cats. I kissed the ground when I got home tho.
That was the biggest problem. I never could come home. Them ni**as was so f**kin’ scared of L.A. that we’d never come do sh*t out here. Man the West is my stomping ground! My home! Them ni**as kept me away for three years cuz they watch too many movies… So ask me how I feel when I see them
Soo-Woopin…Boy please! In the words of the Great Pimp C “You Ni**as Lyin’!”
That’s another story. It ain’t none of my business so I’ma leave it alone. It is a bit suspicious though. Let’s just put all that up for further review. Sh*t…
I was hot at Cash Money my first night home. I couldn’t sleep. The next morning I met my lawyer for breakfast. He gave me one check for my second advance, which was based on term. They spent too long putting the album out. It rolled over into my second term and a day past the third. He gave them a break on the third... (I still don’t know why actually, LOL).
He gave me another check for back royalties for everything from “Baller Blockin” to “Big Money Heavyweights”. It all summed up to “two million holes” in the contract, just like he planned on in the beginning. I opened my sunroof on Wilshire Blvd. when I got back in the car. I peeled off from my lawyer’s office headed to the bank. I held up my middle finger and said to myself. God Bless Cash Money.
That was that and here it is. I don’t have a problem with the Birdman and Slim. After all, them ni**as opened their homes to me, ya dig? But they definitely STAY on some bullsh*t. Know that! So we ain’t exchanging money except on the Lakers and the dice. Matter of fact, I tried to get some N.O./San Antonio bets, but for some reason my calls weren’t returned…LOL.
So I guess I’m back a square one… Now what? I got some music and I got some money. I need the right partner. Have I ever had that? No. I’ve haven watched and learned a lot tho. Maybe I can do this myself. Maybe I can eliminate all the “
Black Suits” and Birdmans out of my mix… Maybe it’s time for independence… Let’s see if they’ll listen…
Tune in for the next installment. This should be interesting…