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Editor’s note: Combat Jack’s reply that should have squashed all of the divisive language about 70’s babies versus 80’s babies must have fallen on the deaf ears of XXLonline’s secondstring staffer Sickamore. So it looks like the kid has decided to step into the arena where grown azz men come to put in work. I wish people would get their minds’ right and stop calling everything a hustle. Hard work isn’t a hustle. Growing up in the world isn’t a hustle either. A hustle is trying to make ends off other folks’ backsweat. A hustle is trying to earn a living by selling something that you know nothing about. Leave it to Combat Jack to learn the youth before the apocalypse.

“Back In ’88 When I Was Pushing Weight, You Was a Ballerina, I Got The Pictures, I seen ‘Ya”
-quote from a “70’s” baby

So the other day, I get this surprise e-mail from “THE 80’s baby” over at XXL. Dude reached out on some squash the beef shit. Peep game…

Subject: Dude, lets just end this shit!!!

Date: 8/20/2006 4:15:32 AM Eastern Daylight Time

From: “Sickamore” [sickness@tmail.com]

To: combatjack@gmail.com

Dude, this shit has got to stop. Why you tripping on me man? You and I both know that my ’80’s baby shit is just a gimmick and I’m running with that shit as long as I can. Why can’t you older cats have a sense of humor? Can I live? Even before your post on the internet last week, my boss Craig Kallman at Atlantic has been barking the fuck on me about my lack of decent signings on the label’s roster and how I’m literally “1/2 a step from getting my nigga ass ejected the fuck out of the building”. In addition, there’s a rumor circulating through my circles that my boss over at XXLmag.com, Elliot “YN” Wilson isn’t really feeling my recent posts, all double guessing whether he made the right decision to pay me monthly to write, and is even thinking about replacing me. Combat, I CANNOT AFFORD TO HAVE THIS SHIT CONTINUE OR BUBBLE UP TO THE SURFACE. PLEASE STOP ATTACKING ME. I NEVER DID ANYTHING TO YOU!!!!!!! I really thought about that Willie Lynch shit you dropped and you’re right man, we shouldn’t be beefing against each other. Yo, I know this real cool sexy ass coffee shop in downtown Brooklyn where, you know, we might be able to break bread, build, uh, maybe collab on some shit. My treat! Plus, they serve a mean Vanilla Latte with whipped cream and nuts!!!! Delicious! I’m thinking, yo, that shit would be ill if we did some Jigga and Nas, team up shit on some of my future posts right? ILLMATIC!!!!!!

On the real tho, I’m a nice guy and could really learn a lot from you about how shit went down before I got on in this music shit. You really can’t blame a young nigga like me for popping his collar on some ’80’s shit. Maybe you did the same when you were coming up. Right? Btw, what do you think of Saigon’s latest shit, hot right? I hear you about his picture on his myspace page, but yo, dude’s chest is just so oiled up and massive!!! I heard that chicks dig that, plus it’s only entertainment! Well anyway man, I’m trying to be on my grown man shit about this and am willing to let bygones be bygones. You’re really funny and when we meet (I hope), I promise I’ll put in a good word to Elliot about squeezing you in on the XXLmag.com roster. That would be hot, right? Anyway, if you’re cool with this, please hit me up at sickness@tmail.com. Also, let me know if you know any hot artists looking for a deal, I could really use that shit right about now, nahmean? I’m looking forward to you reaching out CJ, that would be hot! Right? Come on man, let’s do the damned thing. Peace,

Your lil homie (I hope),

Sickamore.

Sheesh, that shit made me feel a bit sorry for the young fella. I do know something about his track record as an employee, especially since his ex-boss Gary (a T.I.) at Beat Street Records in Brooklyn (a record store dude, not a label), used to personally complain ad nasuem to me about how dude was a really piss poor employee (dee jaying in the showroom and sweeping up the stock room). Gary even told me that in an attempt to boost dude’s morale, even though Beat Street never had an effin record company, they used to pay him like $150 a month (on some fake “a&r” shit) to put together weak Beat Street branded mix tapes consisting of several whack local Brooklyn crap niggas that all sounded like a poor man’s version of Jigga, just so the T.I. run store could maintain a good relationship with their younger black rap buying clientele.

Now, I really don’t know where Sic’s going with his e-mail to me, what with all this nonsense about linking up for some latte with nuts and “teaming up”. Nullus on all counts. Dude, er, thanks but no thanks! Plus, you really don’t have to go through the trouble of putting in a good word about me to your boss. But yeah man, I’ll increase the peace. I really hope that shit works out at Atlantic as well. Plus, I’ll do my best to turn a blind eye to your limited 80’s baby gimmick. Do you man. I know my place, it’s your turn scrap, you got the juice now. Plus, trust me son, I don’t need to prove to you that I’m Black, not caucasian. I happened to come across this picture of you trying your damned best to impersonate a 70’s baby? Uh, what’s up with that Sic? Last I heard, Cazal’s was strictly ’70s dun, plus that shit is looking real suspect, what with the lite gloss all up on your lips and all (ewww!)

I don’t ever remember real dudes rocking rims and wearing MAC lipglass like that back in the day. Come to think of it, that must be some the 80’s baby shit you brag about. That is you in that picture right?!? I’ll let you tell it.

Editor’s note: Internets veteran Combat Jack returns to the website to drop some fire on a young writer from XXLmag.com named Sickamore. It seems that the online publication’s writing staff have been given orders from their T.I. bosses to create a civil war between Hip-Hop fans born in the 1970’s and those that were born in the 1980’s. Some more fratricide that Hip-Hop surely doesn’t need, but if the young’n wants beef he’ll quickly see that Combat Jack isn’t the uno. I hope that this reply ends this beef thread once and for all. We shall see…

“You Gotta Have Style, and Learn To Be Original”
-quote from a 70’s baby

Being a true “70’s” baby, I’ve somewhat given up on the dismal state of today’s Crap Muzik as it is endlessly being churned out of all Hip Hop oriented media outlets (radio, television) like pork sausage out of a meat grinder. Understanding how the corporate monster operates, (exploitation until the point of oversaturation, or ‘point of diminishing returns), it’s clear that in our capitalistic society (eff a democracy, never was, never will be), the cause for the genre’s demise is far more complex than simply blaming one sole source. The factors leading up to Hip Hop’s current state is numerous and evolutionary, but also portrays the essence of everything under the sun, nothing stays the same, everything is impermanent. Adapt and evolve or get left the eff back. Understanding how EVERYTHING nurtured in Black culture (jazz, rock & roll, r&b , hip hop, soul food, style of dress, slang, sexy ass women of color, etc) has and will eventually be consumed, reinterpreted, remixed, cannibalized, dictated and spit out by our mass culture circus, it’s more than obvious that we’re all riding together in this church van to hell.

But lo’ and behold, the more things change, the more things stay the same.
I recently came across an example of some jig eager to get props by
attempting to create a “civil war” in the form of “80’s babies” vs. “70’s
babies” beef, thus upholding the tenets of the old Willie Lynch speech.

Peep game: “They Should’ve Never Gave You Niggas Corporate Cards”: How The 70’s Baby Executives Shaped Hip Hop Today For Better AND Worse

Dick-some-more’s thesis claims that the dismal state of today’s Hip Hop is in no way the fault of the ’80’s generation, but that the responsibility lies at the hands of cats like Hova and Damon Dash (Roc-a-fella), Irv Gotti (Murder Inc.) and other numerous music execs from the “Me Generation” that were instrumental in creating mad employment opportunities for idjits like him. Suck-much-more even gives a weak excuse in claiming that “us “crack babies” are only a product of our environment and upbringing” thus rendering him and his generation totally helpless from having any type of redemptive influence in resuscitating this Crap shit or in creating new types of art forms to bang to. That’s weak dude, last I heard, “excuses are tools for the incompetent”. But hey, let me, for a moment, bitch up and subscribe to this lame’s theory that today’s environment is too eff’d up and oppressive to create new, hyped unprecedented shit. Comparing today’s environment to yesteryear, us 70’s niggas faced, experienced, lived through the following (in no particular order):

welfare in abundance, the explosion of the crack epidemic, the introduction of a deadly new disease by the name of AIDS, effd up polyester suits, the tail end of bad exploitation flix, fug ugly ghetto chicks, no shortage of blowed up tenement buildings in our urban cities, Reaganomics in full effen effizect, Billy Dee Williams, White boys and rock music reigning supreme, effeminate r&b dudes heating up the charts, disco, Son of Sam, shags and jherri curls, NBA niggas rocking nut hugging briefs on court, effed the effed up subway systems, no cable TV, the 77′ NYC Black Out, no West Coast (or Dirty South) dick licking, (shit, no effin West Coast), original NYC gangs like the Jolly Stompers and the Tomahawks, Olde English 800, trey bags, no MTV Cribs just cracker jack ass Life Styles Of The Rich And Famous, Dallas, Dynasty, The A Team, Fantasy Island and Love Boat, no lap tops, no cell phones, raw unprotected sex (yes!!!) , no Rolex, no Bentley’s, no MTV, no corporate Black Cards, no Hip Hop publications, no Hip Hop videos, no Hip Hop radio, no Hip Hop clubs, no Hip Hop blogs, NO EFFIN” HIP HOP !!!! Now, if my memory serves me correct, niggas didn’t waste their time getting their boxers all up in a bunch and cryin about shit and their environment, niggas manned up and evolved.

Now before I get dismissed as being a “grumpy old man, living in the past and hugging my De La Soul Is Dead cassettes”, ain’t no T La Rock, Just-Ice Jordache shit over here son. To all my new niggas repping the 80’s baby set
correctly, no stray shots aimed your way (whaddup Bol, Eskay?). This ain’t
about East vs. West, 70’s vs. 80’s, old vs. new, it’s about niggas and bitches, money and power, and a grown man learning one of his son’s right and proper in the middle of the street.

Now, I can understand Dick-some-more’s frustration with 80’s Babies supposedly having a tough task at hand, but yo, that’s life dun. Buck the eff up or get the eff out of the way! For the life of me, I can’t understand how niggas like you allowed Laffy Taffy and Yung Joc niggas to run ya’ll ragged like track meets. Seems to me it’s waaaaaay past time for yellow purty mouthed ijgs like this kid to stop their blood clot cryin’. A good start would be to remove cracker jack’s nutt sacs from yer tonsils and getting Saigon’s unit from being stuck waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay up from inside you!

Nullus.