Red & black paint: Check!
Wall-to-wall Georgia Bulldog paraphernalia: Check!
Big screen TV, pool table & plenty of food: Check!
Pastor Troy wearing a Bulldog jersey: No!
To my surprise, Troy wasn’t wearing a Braves, Falcons, or Hawks jersey either. In fact, what he was wearing had nothing to do with Atlanta, Georgia, or the South, period. This dude was rocking a damn Michigan Wolverine sweatsuit. My only response to this sight was a resounding [Dave Chappelle mocking Lil’ Jon voice] “What!?!” When queried about his choice outfit, Troy whispered, “I’m only wearing this shit because it was free. There ain’t no way in hell I’d paid for this.”
On anybody else, a navy blue and gold sweatshirt wouldn’t have merited any extra attention, but you have to understand who we’re talking about here. This is the man who has “D.S.G.B.,” the acronym for his group Down South Georgia Boyz, tattooed across his chest, and is also known for wearing a University of Georgia football helmet on stage as he performs. This the man who bought The Bounce, one of Atlanta’s crunkest clubs. Oh, and just in case you didn’t know, this is the same dude that who took part in this 2001 phoner with Atlanta radio personality Coco Brother:
Coco Brother: What’s up ATL, you just heard the new joint from Nas, “One Mic.” How you like that, Troy?
Pastor Troy: [unenthused] It’s straight…
Coco Brother: What! You don’t like that new Nas?
Pastor Troy: It’s straight. I like Georgia music.
“I’m closed-minded with my musical tastes,” says Troy when reminded of this conversation that was broadcast all over the A-Town. “Nas’ [music] is cool but he’d probably respond the same way to my shit.” Now, before you go running your mouth saying you read an article where Troy dissed Nas, understand the context in which the man speaks. Troy knows how people respond to his music in the club, on the radio, and most importantly - at the cash register. There’s a reason why his shit will pop up on a DJ Jelly mixtape before it appears on DJ Clue’s. There’s a reason why Troy will be asked to perform in Daytona before he’s asked to perform at Hot 97’s Summer Jam. “Its not just about selling in the South. I want to sell where people love it,” says Troy, stroking his goatee. “If it ain’t no love, then you ain’t gonna be invited there to perform there any gotdamn way. I just want to go where I’m selling. If I’m selling like a muh’fucka in New York, then that’s where I want to be, if I’m selling in Omaha then that’s where I want to go just to show them that I appreciate their support. But, I sell in the South, so that’s where I be.”
Its obvious that Troy is loyal to his fans in the Bible Belt, but you get the sense that he would love to be considered a top tier artist nationally rather than a heralded Southern rapper. Troy got a taste of nationwide recognition two summers ago when he hooked up with Timbaland for the club hit, “Are We Cuttin’,” which was the lead single for the movie XXX. His record spins increased and so did his performance fee. He appeared on Soul Train. Troy was just one more radio smash away from being as universal as his label.
“I just ain’t like that shit,” retorts Troy when asked why he opted not to go the radio-friendly route after “Are We Cuttin’.” “It’s too many people who love me for who I am and what I am. I ain’t with none of that bullshit. When I bring it, it’s just gonna be straight-up me. Same ol’ gotdamn hood thang. Take it or leave it, nigga.” And that’s exactly what happened. His loyal fans bought the Hell To Pay and D.S.G.B. albums, while the rest of the country left it alone like an ugly chick at the club. And yet now, Southern artists are selling at all-time highs as the rest of the country has become obsessed with the music they used to call “country.” By Any Means Necessary is really the first chance Troy’s had to release a major label solo album during this Southern invasion.
Though Troy is excited to get in on the action and spread his gospel, there’s one more obstacle for him: it starts with a “c” and ends with a “k,” and it’s not crack. His problem is that some childish music listeners try to fit his style into the “crunk” category. Really, you can’t blame them for being so naïve. After all, niggas do get crunk when they hear his music, and so does he. But there are big differences between the Pastor and the “king of crunk,” Lil’ Jon.
“I ain’t faulting the niggas that’s doing it but as a veteran in this shit, I’m tired of hearing all these damn [wannabe] Pastor Troys,” laments PT about the music that now has its own energy drink. “Its more than just screaming ‘nigga, killa, muthafucka, do this, do that.’ That ain’t what [Southern Hip-hop] is about. Niggas done took what it was about and turned it into something that everybody can party with and that party is about to turn into some bullshit.” He continues by predicting the fate of this new trend in music. “Its gonna last as long as these niggas respect the music. Niggas are ready to ride the hell out of it and its about to get crazy because everybody wants to do the shit. If you put too much water in the Kool-Aid its gonna fuck it up.”
If you’ve owned or borrowed a Pastor Troy CD long enough to dissect his lyrics, then you would know that he doesn’t make crunk music. He makes emotion music, or - as he sometimes like to call it - revolution music. If you ever listened to tracks like “Vice Versa,” “Ain’t No Sunshine,” or “Above The Law,” then you would know that its damn near blasphemous to call the Pastor’s music “crunk.”
“I don’t think the industry gives Troy credit for how deep his writing is because they can’t look past his rap style,” says well-known Southern DJ Greg Street. “Troy is one of the greatest writers out right now, I think that he is in the top ten of all the writers that’s out if you listen to some of the shit he be saying.” Believe or not, there is a whole region of people that agrees with Street. Troy has aquired a loyal fan base that buy his records faithfully, even though he doesn’t get the same promotion and marketing muscle that his Universal Records cohorts Nelly and Cash Money receive.
“He’s got that star quality. He leaves people with something to talk about,” theorizes DJ Toomp, who produced three songs on By Any Means Necessary, including the lead single, “Ridin’ Big Yo.” “Plus, he happens to have [those] classic records that you can drop in the club and make everybody go crazy. If you throw on ‘No Mo Play In G.A.’ or ‘Vice Versa,’ niggas still gonna respond like it just came out.”
Speaking of star quality, Troy has been receiving the star treatment lately, in an E! True Hollywood Story kind of way. Being that Troy entered the rap game by dissing Master P back in ‘98, its more natural than ironic that some artists have tried the same thing at Troy’s expense. Troy respects the attacks, but on one condition: “I respect niggas that come in the game in that fashion and stay.” He pauses to take a call from close friend and Washington Redskins runningback Clinton Portis, to whom he gave his trademark championship belt last year. “Half them niggas that be coming with that bullshit be fly-by-night. They diss a nigga and we don’t hear from them no gotdamn more, they fall off the map fucking around trying to diss Troy. Ya’ll boys need to concentrate on ya’ raps.”
Of course, when you appear to be at the top of your game, people come for what you have — including the cops. By now you’ve heard the unusual (and slightly comical) story about Troy being pulled over by an Atlanta police officer for possession of weed. But the sticky-icky isn’t what made the headlines. When the officer asked Troy his name, the Pastor broke a commandment and lied. “I didn’t know what they was coming for,” explains Troy. “They came up just like how you saw it on the news. Ain’t nobody just gonna be like, ‘Yeah, take me with ya’ll.’ Fuck that. I want to know what’s going on.” The lie didn’t last long because many passerbys were Pastor Troy fans who probably thought he was shooting a video and couldn’t help but shout his name. Then, the officer recognized his face on the CDs inside the vehicle. When asked if he was the least bit embarrassed, Troy shrugs he shoulders and blurts, “Hell naw, I aint give a fuck,” stressing the “u”. “They was taking me to jail anyway so that shit ain’t matter worth a damn.” He showed that it didn’t matter when he posted bond and went to Club Mirage in Decatur later that night to announce that he would be performing there the following weekend.
Even if his episode with the APD doesn’t prove it, one thing that does matter to Troy is the truth. The truth is, even though he doesn’t have a wall full of plaques or a trophy case busting at the seams, he has a cult following that most trophy-winning artists would kill for. “I don’t need the credit or accolades, everybody knows who PT is,” says Troy with a satisfied grin. “We [D.S.G.B.] gave ATL some balls. Outkast was kicking it, Goodie Mob was kicking it, but niggas wasn’t really talking about fucking niggas up. We brought some gangsta shit in it.” Be careful, Troy, before critics start labeling your music “gangsta” instead of “crunk.”
