This year, I’m thankful that Pastor Ma$e tore Cam'ron a new asshole on Black Friday, thus sparing me from having to figure out who Post Malone is. Maybe Jesus really is real.
The emergence of Pastor Ma$e et alia, in the late ‘90s-early '00s, marked the point when I stopped caring about rap music as much, so I could care less about any of these people, and I can hardly claim to be an expert on their music, but I definitely know who they are.
Back when they were about something, let’s just say I had a lot of free time on my hands. (Too much, really.) And then years later, I learned more about them than I needed to when, through a bizarre chain of events, I became a semi-professional music writer. I covered events like that time Ma$e got caught cruising for, ahem, transgender sex workers, and that time Cam'ron moved to Florida, to a house with a tiny pool in the back, in real time. It was my own personal equivalent of Vietnam.
Fast forward to 2017. I was saddened to see, as I was “researching” this, that time hasn’t been kind to Dipset. Juelz Santana, in particular, has obviously been on “that narcotic.” He’s got that Bobby Brown coke-jaw, and it looks like he might not have a bottom row of teeth, like maybe one of his fellow crackheads stole his dentures while he was sleeping in a gutter.
There’s a video on Twitter of Juelz, Jim Jones and maybe someone else from Dipset (I told you I wasn’t an expert) on what may or may not be the new TRL. Dipset recently had a reunion show, not unlike the Bad Boy and Ruff Ryders reunion shows from maybe a year ago, and they must be trying to drop a new album. I heard the reunion show was sparsely attended. Part of that could be that Dipset was never as popular as white hipster crypto-racists on the Internets would have you believe.
Yesterday, i.e. Thanksgiving, Ma$e was at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, watching Jimmy Fallon sing covers of Prince songs from the Purple Rain soundtrack, when he was suddenly overcome with the urge to record a Cam'ron dis song. I don’t know what Cam'ron could have done to cause Ma$e to want to abandon his own family at a parade, on Thanksgiving, but whatever it was, it must have been serious. In fact, I don’t know how he found a studio that let him record on Thanksgiving. He must have paid extra.
I know initially the beef between Ma$e and Cam'ron stemmed from the fact that Ma$e wouldn’t appear in the video for the song “Horse & Carriage.” At least part of the song’s appeal, for people who would listen to something like that, is that Ma$e sings the chorus, but you’d hardly know that from watching the video. It’s the late '90s equivalent of that song “Somebody’s Watching Me” by Rockwell. At the time, Ma$e was Puff Daddy’s weed carrier, and Puff Daddy may not have liked the idea of his weed carrier having his own weed carrier. Puff Daddy didn’t make $100 million in 1997 just for his piff pocketer to be out there moonlighting.
I’m actually less concerned with the numerous beefs between Ma$e and Cam'ron, as chronicled in the only somewhat comprehensible “The Oracle,” than I am with the fact that Cam'ron allegedly made sweet, passionate love to his own sister. You can tell this is true for a couple of reasons: (1) It’s such an odd, specific claim that Ma$e couldn’t have possibly made it up. He’s not that creative. Hence the Kool and the Gang samples on Harlem World. (2) Cam'ron already issued a response to Ma$e, via Instagram, and he didn’t address the line about him banging his own sister. That would of course be my primary concern.
Maybe Cam is saving the incest denial for an answer record. The good thing about beef between rappers who have been in the game for over 20 years is that there’s plenty of fodder for insult bars. If Cam'ron could figure out a good way to search the XXL archives (which, there isn’t one), he could hit the proverbial motherlode. In addition to the time Ma$e got caught pulling a Teddy Pendergrass, there’s the fact that he disappeared from New York in the first place, supposedly because he found the lord. I’ve heard rumors about what goes on in those ATL megachurches.
Take it easy on yourself,