Where You At?

I have no idea what Boost Mobile is, but the new ad featuring Ludacris, Kanyé West, and the Game is the number one most favorite thing at making me proud to be an American lately. There’s something, in this time of rank divisiveness, to the sentiment of “the whole city behind us,” as three men from around the nation are able to unite under a pretty nice beat. And then West does a roboto move at the end that just seals it. Well, if the three roller-skating dudes hadn’t sealed it before. Fantastic. Super fantastic that it takes a fucking commercial for me to feel like part of an inclusive society. But, hell, we’re now two for two in that department, and the pile of people finding this webpage doing searches for TIAA CREF and some lyrics from West Side Story might mean, assholes, that we need some community up in here.

While on the subject of hip-hop, Ritz pointed out to me last night how hilarious it is that Frylock has a diamond in his back. He started singing some song, and the phrase “Diamond in the back” stuck with me, as I recognised from when it’s sampled in NWA’s “Gangsta, Gangsta.” So I got home, did some research, and found out about William DeVaughn. This was all very helpful since, I’ll be honest, I never understood why Eazy-E’s six-four had a diamond in the back. I have since downloaded three versions of “Be Thankful for What You Got,” including a pleasant but far less sexy version by Yo La Tengo. This sort of backcatalog reverse engineering is, of course, if you have forgotten, my number one favorite part of listening to hip-hop.

[UPDATE 21.09.2004 09:17] A lot of people have been finding this post by searching on the lyrics of the song from the Boost Mobile ad, so I’m going to transcribe them as best as I can below the fold. Please add any corrections

Boost Mobile “Anthem” (parts used in the ad are in bold)

Big Mike, back atty. New Kane. (?) Kany� West!

[Kany�]
Yeah… Yeah…
I used to front when I write songs,
Talkin’ ’bout havin’ ice on,
And I could barely keep my lights on,
And my beats were so sick,
I shoulda got a medic,
But my credit was so pathetic,
I couldn’t afford a debit.
When the drop out dropped,
I had to cop me a money tree,
To front on anybody who ever tried to front on me,
With so much personality,
What do you want from me,
I could be by myself,
And enjoy the company.
My life, this year, my career, it’s the Lord,
B—(?) this award is for Melissa Ford (?!),
’94, I could only afford this Accord,
From the home of gang-bangin’ and we all outdoors (Big Mike!)
Southside, outside, West Side, let’s ride,
East Side, write B-side (?), Lake Shore Drive,
And I’m (and I’m) the Chitown’s finest.
Where you at? The whole city behind us.

Chorus:
Where you at? The whole city behind us.
Where you at? The whole city behind us.
Southside, outside, West Side, let’s ride,
Where you at? The whole city behind us.

[Ludacris]
It ain’t not’in’ to it, but to do it,
I can’t hit a sucka place down
‘Til my body starts pumpin’ red fluid,
A-town I been through it,
And we steady, gettin’ tested,
But we ready to feel your bubble
When we put the lead to it.
Out west they still bangin’,
Up top it’s really gully (?),
Down South we get buck (?),
And turn hearts to Silly Putty,
Ludacris, I got silly money,
You got jokes, I’ll be laughin’ all the way to the bank,
Now that’s really funny.
Big city, bright lights,
And many pity ’cause we like fights,
Maybe long days, but it’s fright nights,
Livin’ out the night life,
And people askin’, “Where you at?”
Not the club, I stay in to get right.
Hotlanta, home of the booties and the really tight skirts,
Where if somebody moves, then somebody gets hurt,
From Decatur down to CP,
And EP,
Adamsville to the Battlefield is DTP.

(Chorus)

[The Game]
It’s Compton’s prodigy, obviously,
I’m from the home of hydraulics,
_______ around steering columns, (?)
(Game!)____ Impalas tend to get holla,(?)
We fight pit bulls and Rottweilers,
And in the projects the objective is to make dollars.
Where you at? It ain’t a problem to get it there by tomorrow,
‘Cause I got a female friend with frequent flier mileage.
I ain’t never been to college,
Got the IQ of a Rhodes Scholar,
If you follow G-Unit _____ (?)
And yell “holler.”
To all the Y Gs (?) in khakis and white tees,
And Air Ones in every color like iced tea,
I might be the City of Compton’s right knee,
The way I paint pictures with these hip-hop scriptures.
Pay attention while The Game shine like a prism,
Glisten, show you how canaries can alter one’s vision,
Not to mention I am Dr. Dre-christened,
On behalf of Moolay (?) and Kanyeezy,
I’m going pre-easy. (?)

(Chorus)