For a long time I thought I had made up this song and video. I vaguely remember hearing this on Stretch Armstrong, or Mistah Magic (more likely) circa 1992. I’ve had the hook in my head for going on twenty years. I couldn’t find it anywhere. When I’d bring it up people would say they remembered it but nobody could remember the name of the group. Well, it was the Rough House Survivors, from the Uptown-Mount Vernon contingent of rap.
The song below I don’t remember at all. The whole dancehall hook was fantastic, reminds me of Da Bush Babies, another forgotten group of the era. You’ll notice they use the old obscure handle, “hops” – the equivalent of “bro.”
Speaking of which I’m going to search the OHLLA archive and see if I can find some more examples of “hops”.
It reminds me: I’ve had an ongoing argument about lyrics in the Wu-Tang song, “Protect Ya Neck” since 1995. Is it “Going to war with the melting pot, hot” or “Going to war with the melting pot, hops”?
But anyway, watching these kids – that’s right kids – I realize now me how many back then were really just school kids. Now it seems that like rap has got many more musicians in their thirties acting like their kids.
At the same time, I know they’re kids sitting on a couch somewhere and cursing Rapcity’s Old School Tuesdays. Man, I used to hate watching that crap.