It didn’t matter that the film took place in South Central Los Angeles because every boy in a ‘hood could relate. There were plenty of Ricky Bakers dying over bullshit in East St. Louis, too many Doughboys getting killed on the South Side of Chicago, and not enough Furious Styles taking care of their sons in Liberty City Miami.
The ills depicted in the film are still present today and so is the music that acts as its soundtrack. In 2005, gangsta rap has come full circle in Hip Hop. After going through Southernplayalistic, Cristal-popping, No Limit soldier, bling-bling, and “something for the ladies” stages, rap music is once again adopting the grit and grind that groups like NWA, Above the Law and Compton’s Most Wanted made popular in the late 1980’s and early 1990’s.
Standing at the forefront of this re-introduction is the Southern foursome known as - you guessed it - Boyz N Da Hood. Comprised of rappers Young Jeezy aka Da Snowman, Jody Breeze aka Da Youngster, Big Gee aka Da Edge Hanger, and Big Duke aka Da O.G., BNDH has the streets of Atlanta on fire and the blaze is spreading rapidly throughout the Southeast part of the country.
Their street single “Dem Boyz” is a mixtape favorite and radio smash, and they have a backing that would make the LAPD jealous. The group is the brainchild of industry-insider and all-around hustler Block who came up with the idea of creating a supergroup that would be the much-needed voice of the streets that he felt rap music was missing.
“I wanted to give my niggas in the hood something to listen to because my niggas in the hood and the penitentiary weren’t really feeling that crunk shit or niggas rapping over R&B tracks, they wanted some real gritty shit,” says Block, who is part owner of the imprint Shonuff Recordings, home to Urban music’s latest pop-princess Ciara. When Block first conjured up the idea he introduced it to both T.I. and Trick Daddy, but due to legal issues, scheduling conflicts and other agendas, the idea never left the ground.
Undeterred, Block scoured his Roledex to put together his puzzle of “real niggas.” The first piece was Gee, with whom Black already had a 3-year business relationship through his job at Noontime. He’d promised to put on Duke as soon as the opportunity presented itself, so he approached Duke. Jody Breeze was brought in after being discovered and signed to the Shonuff imprint via his business partners Noonie and producer Jazzy Pha. Block had known Jeezy for nearly ten years, so it made sense for him to be a part of the group.
The foundation was now set, but there were more obstacles to hurdle, one being chemistry. Outside of Gee and Duke knowing each other through Block, none of these artists actually knew each other. On top of that, all four members were solo artists working on their own projects. But as they say, real recognized real and recording process hit the ground running.
“Why wouldn’t it work? We really are boys in the ‘hood,” says Griffin, Georgia native Jody Breeze, whose moniker partially derives from the character in Singleton’s most recent ‘hood drama Baby Boy. “It’s easier than trying to get along with somebody you don’t really know or can’t relate to.”
“We got in there and we did it,” cosigns Block, comparing BNDH’s work ethic to that of immigrants capitalizing on America’s fertile business soil. “The first song they did was ‘Dem Boyz.’ Everybody stopped what they was doing and focused on this because they knew that Boyz N Da Hood was it.”
After months of grinding, BNDH had a finished product. The next obstacle was to convince people that it was worth believing in. Though you get the sense that this group of hustlers were going to get their names out there one way or the other, a little help from a high-profile model/hip-hop mogul’s baby mama proved to be the tipping point towards their current situation.
In the process of shopping BNDH’s project for a deal, Block passed a CD to his close friend Kim Porter, the mother of Sean “P. Diddy” Combs first child. She fell in love with what she heard and went out on a limb to introduce the Boyz’ CD to Diddy with her full endorsement.
Intrigued and hoping to add to his Bad Boy South roster, Diddy was having business meetings with BNDH within a matter of days and a deal was made. “I try to sign the best untapped talent out there,” says Diddy, who has been spotted in every A-Town hood from the Pittsburgh projects to Kirkwood since creating Bad Boy South. “Boyz N Da Hood is not a hard sell. As soon as the needle hits the record people ask, “Hey what’s that?’”
Without sounding absolutely cocky, Big Duke agrees. “Honestly, I knew if Puff heard the project he was gonna jump on it,” says the Decatur native. This is Duke’s first chance at national exposure, since his previous deals at Suave House and So So Def were a disappointment. “We got cats that’s in Atlanta that’s been knowing us for years and had the opportunity to jump on this project. But now that Puff jumped on it, everybody want act like they been knowing us.”
While that may be the case with certain industry types, there is still a world of people who don’t know who the hell Boyz N Da Hood are. Even though it’s interesting to know that Jody is a former High School basketball star, Duke once played on the famed Southwest Dekalb High School football team, and Jeezy has a solo deal with Def Jam, more people are going to be concerned with the fact that these relative unknowns have the balls to call themselves “The NWA of the South.”
“Their chemistry is phenomenal, the only thing you can compare it to is NWA,” endorses Diddy. “Every person in the group is at a level of emcee supremacy.” That means a lot coming from the man who discovered The Notorious B.I.G., who many herald as the greatest who ever did it. BNDH welcomes the comparisons but they would rather be their own entity with their own attitudes.
“Truthfully, the streets gave them that name,” says Block, defending the group who’s latest mixtape Straight Outta A-Town borrows from NWA’s landmark album Straight Outta Compton. “I just took the baton from Eazy-E as far as giving the streets real shit.”
Jody adds, “I know since people labeled us that a lot of people are gonna ask us which NWA members we pattern ourselves after. But I don’t consider myself one of them. I’m me.”
“We ain’t trying to be NWA,” insists Duke. “People compare us to them and we appreciate it, but, we just do what we do.”
What BNDH has done so far is generate a street buzz by resurrecting an aggressive brand of music that some feel ran its course in the mid-90’s and should stay in the grave; a brand that politicians and parents blamed for every social ill in urban America. It’s a brand that repeatedly crossed the fine line between testifying and glorifying.
“The streets told me to bring it out,” insists Block, reiterating BNDH’s primary source of inspiration. “I’m in the hood every day and wherever I’m at I keep hearing real niggas talking about they need that gritty shit that they live. We ain’t glorifying nothing we just telling it how we see it and how we go thru it.”
“Music goes around in circles,” explains Duke. “Just like when Afros and bellbottoms came back in style. We laughing now, but niggas gonna be wearing tightlegs again at some point.”
Gee’s name is known in Atlanta’s streets for his DMX-like balance of spirituality and anger demonstrated on his two independent albums Concrete Jungle and Mechanicsville, U.S.A. adds, “It’s too many real niggas out there that feel the same way I feel who ain’t getting heard and I think I’m their voice.”
A stroll down Atlanta’s bustling Five Points district is testament to Gee’s sentiments. It’s almost impossible to be in the area without hearing “Dem Boyz” blasting out of either an independent retailer or a Chevy stopped at a red light. And if you ride the MARTA transit system to work it’s a guarantee that you will hear someone bumping their music, reciting each song line for line.
“When you can relate to the streets and they can relate to you, you gonna get that type of love,” says Jody. “It feels good to have muthafuckers walk up on you and tell you, ‘We fuck with your shit.’”
“I’m just glad people are opening up to it,” piggybacks Duke about the group’s sudden following. “In Atlanta we go from one stereotype to the next. We shake the bootyshake off then they throw the crunk on us. Niggas been able to rap it’s just the labels weren’t coming here looking for that.”
While it is yet to be seen if Young Jeezy, Big Duke, Big Gee and Jody Breeze will usher in yet another stereotype for Atlanta to be associated with, one thing is for sure. What ever they bring to the game will be spread throughout the country, just like how Singleton’s film resonated from theatres from coast to coast.
“Boyz in the hood is a movement,” urges Block, insisting that he will search for talent in the North, Midwest, and West Coast next time around. “The next two three albums, it might not be the same niggas in the group, it might be some more new niggas from the hood.”
