Source:
@fatjoe
/
Instagram
“I
never
had
dinner
with
the
president!”
–
Ice
Cube
(“No
Vaseline”)
O’Shea
Jackson’s
jab
at
Eric
Wright
on
the
scathing
diss
track
aimed
at
his
former
N.W.A
family
carried
significant
weight
in
1991.
At
the
time,
the
president
represented
the
power
that
was
oppressive
to
the
Hip-Hop
community.
A
group
like
N.W.A
didn’t
participate
in
a
lunch
benefiting
the
Republican
Senatorial
inner
circle,
which
was
hosted
by
then-President
George
H.
W.
Bush.
And
the
idea
that
Eazy-E
did
just
that
painted
him
out
to
be
a
traitor
to
the
community.
We
fought
the
power
for
change
in
our
community,
we
didn’t
fraternize
with
the
power
in
an
attempt
to
join
their
fraternity.
And
any
individual
in
the
Hip-Hop
community
who
didn’t
adhere
to
these
unwritten
laws
was
subject
to
being
publicly
tarred
and
feathered.
No
questions
asked.
Fast
forward
to
2024
and,
as
The
Notorious
B.I.G.
once
said
“Things
Done
Changed.”
The
power
that
we
were
up
against
in
the
80s
and
90s
has
changed
shape
over
the
years.
It’s
a
little
more
complicated
to
figure
out
who
“The
Power”
is
now
when
the
economics
and
landscape
have
been
modified,
altered
and
remodeled.
In
some
ways
it
has
changed
for
the
better
but,
as
they
always
say—the
more
things
change,
the
more
they
stay
the
same.
“Sharing
our
platforms
and
our
audiences
with
individuals
who
have
spent
the
majority
of
their
careers
in
the
spotlight
disparaging
the
very
communities
we
come
from
is
a
dangerous
proposition.”
The
idea
of
having
dinner
with
the
president
shifted
dramatically
once
Barack
Obama
took
his
seat
in
the
Oval
Office
on
January
20,
2009.
But
a
Black
man
being
head
of
state
didn’t
prevent
unarmed
Black
men
and
women
from
being
gunned
down
by
those
sworn
to
protect
them
in
the
years
that
followed.
There
are
more
prominent
millionaires
of
color
in
America
but
the
same
structural
issues
that
oppress
minorities
in
the
alleged
“Land
of
the
Free”
are
still
present.
What
happens
when
you
begin
sharing
a
tax
bracket
and
oxygen
with
the
power
you
once
thought
you
were
fighting
against?
It
becomes
really
difficult
to
fight
the
power
when
you
become
the
power
and
start
to
think,
“Oh,
this
isn’t
so
bad
after
all.”
And
for
a
lot
of
these
rappers,
it’s
reaching
Laurence
Fishburne
levels
of
Deep
Cover
where
those
who
think
they
are
being
undercover
agents
of
chaos
become
swept
up
in
the
life
and
end
up
doing
more
harm
than
good.
Source:
Consolidated
News
Pictures
/
Getty
Kanye
West
infamously
wore
the
“Make
America
Great
Again”
hat
in
support
of
Donald
Trump
while
recently
Ice
Cube
galavanted
through
South
Central
LA
with
conservative
and
racist
pundit
Tucker
Carlson.
Obviously,
there
is
a
lot
of
nuance
to
be
had
when
it
comes
to
these
interactions
because
they
aren’t
all
bad,
but
it
oftentimes
takes
on
the
guise
of
the
Hip-Hop
community
being
subservient
to
those
who
would
have
never
allowed
us
in
the
esteemed
country
club
several
decades
ago
if
we
weren’t
cleaning
toilets
and
sweeping
the
debris
from
the
crustless
cucumber
sandwiches.
There
is
no
tradeoff
or
challenge
of
ideologies.
Instead,
it’s
empowering
those
who
have
spent
their
energy
trying
to
destroy
us
by
giving
them
our
platform
to
espouse
their
overtly
bigoted
and
immoral
views.
We
let
our
guard
down
just
long
enough
for
someone
like
Donald
Trump
to
sneak
into
the
back
door
of
the
White
House
in
2016
and
empower
fellow
bigots
and
sexists
to
believe
that
their
behavior
isn’t
just
okay,
it
should
be
paraded.
And
we’re
dangerously
close
to
it
happening
again.
Source:
handout
/
Candace
Owens
Just
recently,
Joe
Budden
was
photographed
with
notorious
self-hating
conservative
commentator
Candace
Owens
for
a
future
episode
of
The
Joe
Budden
Podcast
while
Fat
Joe
shared
a
post
on
social
media
where
he
purchased
Donald
Trump’s
new
sneaker
the
Ayran
Nation
12s
(I
kid,
I
think).
Sharing
our
platforms
and
our
audiences
with
individuals
who
have
spent
the
majority
of
their
careers
in
the
spotlight
disparaging
the
very
communities
we
come
from
is
a
dangerous
proposition.
Pivoting
back
to
the
Deep
Cover
analogy
mentioned
earlier,
in
the
film
DEA
Agent
Russell
Stevens
Jr.
(Fishburne)
became
a
police
officer
after
witnessing
his
drug-addicted,
alcoholic
father
getting
murdered
while
robbing
a
liquor
store.
The
“power”
he
wanted
to
fight
was
against
those
who
provided
the
poison
that
led
to
his
father’s
demise.
After
being
tasked
to
go
undercover
as
“John
Hull”
to
infiltrate
a
drug
cartel,
Stevens
Jr.
finds
himself
in
too
deep,
disillusioned
and
becomes
enamored
with
the
lifestyle
afforded
him.
He
eventually
pulls
himself
out
for
a
somewhat
happy
Hollywood
ending
but
the
damage
to
his
integrity
is
already
done.
We’re
seeing
quite
a
bit
of
this
in
the
Hip-Hop
community
today
as
many
of
these
rappers
with
high-profile
platforms
are
far
too
eager
to
share
it
with
the
people
who
have
routinely
disparaged
people
who
look
like
them
and
come
from
the
same
neighborhoods
they
grew
up
in.
But
the
wine
tastes
different
when
you’re
able
to
afford
a
decanter,
and
educating
your
community
on
why
can
become
a
chore.
It’s
easier
to
trade
stories
with
people
who
can
relate
to
your
financial
position
while
those
matters
of
materialism
tend
to
make
them
forget
the
circumstances
they
were
once
in
and
trying
to
remedy
for
the
future.
What’s
happening
is
that
we
are
making
it
okay
for
these
people
to
use
us
for
their
benefit.
We’re
in
too
deep
to
realize
who
is
really
in
control
of
the
narrative.
What
gets
lost
in
Fat
Joe
being
a
sneaker
collector
who
just
had
to
have
a
pair
of
Trump’s
sneakers
is
the
fact
that
he
said
“I’m
not
a
Trumper,
I
dislike
Trump,
I’m
not
voting
for
him—not
now,
not
never.”
Instead,
Trump’s
campaign
will
point
to
Fat
Joe
having
a
pair
of
these
sneakers
as
a
means
of
gaining
the
community’s
support.
“Fat
Joe
has
a
pair,
you
should
too,”
will
be
the
war
cry
(and
was
partially
why
it
was
trending
on
social
media).
And
you
can’t
shake
the
stench
of
it.
Joe
Budden
expressing
his
admiration
for
Candace
Owens’
work
and
then
gifting
her
his
audience
gets
us
to
put
our
guard
down
just
enough
as
the
well-documented
political
grifter
attempts
to
wrangle
more
support
from
within
our
community.
And
while
her
commitment
to
the
gimmick
can
be
admired
simply
because
of
how
dedicated
she
is
to
destroying
Black
people
in
front
of
a
cheering
group
of
right-wingers,
the
damage
it
does
to
have
a
Black
woman
relentlessly
run
down
the
community
with
half-truths
and
right-wing
propaganda
is
beyond
irreparable.
Those
who
aren’t
smart
enough
to
sniff
out
the
agenda
will
be
swept
up
in
it.
And
if
Budden
and
his
cohorts
aren’t
mentally
equipped
to
challenge
Owens—who
is
very
intelligent
and
persuasive—then
what
exactly
are
we
doing
here?
Providing
a
springboard
for
“The
Power”
to
infiltrate
our
community?
There
are
ways
to
handle
this
kind
of
interaction
to
prevent
our
community
from
being
used.
New
Orleans
rapper
Dee-1
appeared
on
Jason
Whitlock’s
show
Fearless
to
discuss
Christianity
and
their
different
perspectives
of
the
Black
community.
Dee-1
didn’t
have
to
share
his
stage
and
instead
walked
into
the
lion’s
den
to
have
a
nuanced
conversation.
While
giving
any
Black
man
who
makes
a
career
out
of
trashing
other
Black
people
the
time
of
day
is
dangerous,
Dee-1
wasn’t
completely
taken
advantage
of
and
was
smart
enough
to
avoid
the
traps
Whitlock
set.
But
not
everyone
is
Dee-1.
The
trend
of
sharing
our
platforms
with
those
who
made
a
career
out
of
hating
us
needs
to
end
soon
before
we
end
up
with
another
four
years
of
Donald
Trump
giving
power
to
the
racist
and
xenophobic
voices
within
our
country
while
disguising
it
as
“free
speech.”
They
don’t
deserve
us
and
we
have
to
remember
that
while
“The
Power”
will
change
shape
and
even
befriend
you,
they
are
still
the
reason
we
fight.