Photo by Glynnis McDaris.
Back in the day, you couldn’t be a Latino MC without wearing Nike Cortez, baggy white jeans, and a plaid shirt. Thankfully, Big Pun broadened everyone’s horizons by urging MTV audiences to chant, “Boriqua! Morena!” But is there really a middle ground between the Terror Squad and Kid Frost? Couldn’t we use a slimmed down, more lyrical version of N.O.R.E.? Enter Pedro Zayas, AKA Peedi Crakk. Roc-A-Fella’s newest signee could become hip-hop’s freshest spic spitter. Not only does he currently have the best name in rap, pretty boy Peedi also strives to become the 2003 Greg Nice, and he punctuates his verses by shouting “rrrring!” (rolling the R’s, of course). Problem is, we have no idea what he’s rapping about.
VICE: You incorporate a lot of Spanish into your rhymes.
Peedi: But an older Puerto Rican wouldn’t know what the hell I’m talking about. It’s a mix of Spanish and Ebonics—it’s Ebanish. Like when I spit, “Que tu quieres mujera, she said she blow la-la, now she my baby mama.” “Que tu quieres” means “Yo, what’s up?” And “mujera” is a black girl in North Philly. So the whole line means “What’s up ma, you smoke weed?” And if so, then she my baby moms. But on the real, I be wearing plenty condoms. Triple them these days––2003 means triple your G.
Why do all you Philly cats rhyme funny?
It’s just the way we talk there. Real fast, but still saying a lot. Say I got a freaky girl over, right? And I’m trying to say, Come over and you can fuck her too. I’ll say, “Shortie over here, she’s about to pop off on whatever.” And you’re like “Oh, for real?” Boom. Quick like that.
Any other slick schemes you want to put us on to?
In one of my rhymes I say, “Get my gat in the after-hours, y’all ain’t got no gats like ours”.
I can get any gun in any after-hours spot. If you got a two-way and a phone, you’re set. [Pulls out his gun.] This is a .44 revolver. You tuck it in your pants with the clip part out. You got to have two T-shirts on. You put the first shirt over the gat and put your two-way and phone on your belt, in front of the gun. Then cover the whole thing with your other T-shirt. When the sensor goes off, you say, “That’s my phone.” They look and don’t see none of that shit underneath. And they know your dick’s right there, so they’re not going to pat you.
Look for Peedi Crakk’s album, tentatively titled Prince of the Roc, before the end of the year.