Conspiracy Theorizing

Photo by Chris Glancy
 

Rick Ross is a monster. In fact, the conspiracy-minded blog The Black Operative alarmingly described him as hip-hop’s new Frankenstein—a cross between Freeway’s beard, Suge Knight’s intimidation factor, and Young Jeezy’s street credentials.

Now, three things need to be noted about this rhyming behemoth. Firstly, his breakout single “Hustlin’” is undoubtedly the best song of the year. Powered by a screwed-up hook and wailing organs (not to mention a post-no homo nod to the expression “ayo”), this record sums up everything that hip-hop has to offer in 2006. Secondly, he’s from Miami. Aside from perhaps Trick Daddy, there’s never been a bona fide, gritty-ass gangsta rapper from the city known for its booty clap and lavish studio hideouts. Ross promises that his debut, Port of Miami, will be to Dade County what AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted was to Compton. Thirdly, he’s Def Jam’s newest artist. His critics’ pick status is akin to Juelz’s standing a little over a year ago, and, following last year’s Jeezy blueprint, Ricky’s expecting to be catapulted to fame after a summer release. Come September, Rick Rizzle the rich nizzle will be everywhere.

That said, does anybody realize where he got his name? Here’s the deal: The original Rick Ross, AKA Freeway Rick (no relation to the Roc’s Freeway), is credited with spearheading the mid-80s crack epidemic in South Central LA. By the late 80s, this ultimate hustler’s operations were burgeoning all the way through the Midwest. So far, everything’s fine and dandy. However, during a 90s prison sentence, Freeway Rick became a government informant. Now that’s a no-no. In a climate where rap’s rallying cry is “stop snitching,” and folks like Shyne and Lil Kim are serving time for refusing to open their mouths, it’s maybe not the most prudent choice for a rapper to name himself after a rat. But fear not, Miami’s Rick Ross actually has very few words for the po-po. Instead, in a strange twist of events, he’s focusing all his energy on combating the actual law that got Freeway Rick indicted.


Vice: What do you think about cops?

Rick Ross: I can’t remember the last time I thought about a cop. I ain’t gonna even lie. I ain’t even got no opinion of them motherfuckers. They do what they do, man, them motherfuckers hustlin’ too. I stay out of their way.

Is there anything special about the police in Miami?

I just know how to bob and weave them motherfuckers down there. I was in Atlanta last week and, you know, they’re standing out in the intersections and shit, it’s a different kind of police presence. In Miami, you ain’t gonna just have cops standing in the intersections, directing traffic when there’s already a traffic signal there. But them police go hard in Atlanta.

What’s with the “stop snitching” trend? Nobody talked about that ten years ago.

That shit wasn’t an issue then. But now cats really do be informants and rats and agents and all that shit. See, that’s different from the police. An informant and a rat and an agent, it’s different from a policeman that’s doing a job or whatever. You know I ain’t got no opinion of police—motherfuckers got to do what they got to do. I don’t have no words for them. I don’t speak to them; I just go about my business, you feel me? Whenever I got arrested, I didn’t speak to the officer. I wasn’t gonna explain my case to him. Whatever, take me.

But informants, now, they’re the bitches I hate. They the rat, slimy son-of-a-bitches. They’ll get you more times than the police.

But your M.O. is no talking.

I’m a keep it real. Once a motherfucker grabs you and puts them cuffs on you, you’re going down anyway. So all that pleading and explaining? Just save all that shit. Shut the fuck up and go wherever they’re gonna take you. That’s your best bet. That’s just my opinion. Now I see motherfuckers all the time getting their hands cuffed and start crying, talking about their kids and shit. That shit don’t help, man. You done committed the crime. Go and get your bond money ready.

If you could change one law, which law would it be?
The conspiracy law. If I could change one law—and you can mark my words—one day, I’m a do something about the conspiracy law. That’s the law that says that the federal government can charge you with a crime for even discussing it, considering it, you know? For thinking about it. Let’s say this driver was an undercover FBI agent. (To the driver:) Not saying that you aren’t, cuz you might be. But I won’t act like I don’t know. (Back to Vice:) So let’s say, for instance, if he was an undercover FBI agent and I asked you the wrong questions in front of him. Like this: Where you from?

Me? The Bronx, my nigga.

How much kilograms of cocaine go for in the Bronx?

I ain’t snitchin’. X amount.

OK, you said, “X amount.” Then I say I’m interested in buying one. And you say OK. You just conspired to distribute cocaine. And under the federal guidelines, that’ll get you a minimum of 10 to 25 or life in federal prison. For quoting a price and saying yes. “Yes” is your conviction. And they got a 98-percent rate of conviction. You’re finished. You know how many people they sweep up every year like that? You’re through; you’re finished. You just conspired. You just broke a federal law. You just conspired to distribute cocaine. You’re a drug dealer. You deserve 25 years. Or if you’re black, you’ll get life. Just for talking.

Wow.

Then they got what they call enhancements. That’s like your priors. You might’ve gotten picked up when you were 17 for prostitution, you ain’t gotta lie. You might have a little knife charge or something. Those enhance you. So now you don’t just get 25 years, but because of the prostitution and the knife charge you had, that brought you up five more points, so you might just get life. And that’s what’s been going on and that’s what’s cleaning up, most definitely, the black community—and ain’t nobody doing nothing about it.

This law wasn’t always around, was it?

That’s what I’m telling you. That’s some shit that started in the late 80s, when the FBI shit came into play and all that. When they talk about federal indictments, what they don’t tell you is that it’s a bullshit charge called conspiracy. I can see if it was possession; that’s two different things. Now that’s fair. Now if you brought a kilogram when I asked you and we got caught, yeah, that’s a different thing. But the sad part about this shit is that so many people get set up, they don’t even know what really convicted them. It’s just fucked up, phone taps and shit. Motherfuckers ask you some shit on the phone like, “Hey boy I need a Dan Marino.” You be like, “Yeah, yeah, yeah it’s all good.” You just agreed to give me a quarterback. Dan Marino is a quarterback for a football team, right? A quarter out a kilo is nine ounces. And what’s wrong with somebody that call and ask you: “Hey man, you got a quarterback?”

Ross’s manager E-Class: And that’s when the hip-hop police come in and tell them what that means.

Rick: Yeah, “Oh damn, he just asked him for a quarterback, a Dan Marino jersey, that’s a quarter key.” That’s the slang. That’s conspiring. Boom, you’re finished.

E-Class: They got regular niggas telling the real police what they’re talking about.

Rick: Rats. You’re finished. The conspiracy law. Crazy, yo.

I’m speechless. Any other law you’d like to change?

I might legalize prostitution. It’s legal everywhere. If them hoes want to suck a dick, let ’em suck a dick. If they need to make a few bucks, let ’em. Everybody need a Lewinski.

MACHO
Rick Ross’s Port of Miami is out this summer on Def Jam. Freeway Rick Ross is serving life.