Iced Out Halloween

With the bitterness of a single 30-something woman on Valentine’s Day, I loathe October 31 for its insignificance on my calendar, and more importantly, the distractions it places on my everyday routines. This Halloween, however, a relic revived from hip hop’s dead sea of rappers-turned-actors returns, and I’ll bag a record that will hopefully be a treat, not a trick.

Ice-T’s hibernation from rap left a seven-year itch for some original gangsta-isms from NBC’s favorite television cop (to those who hate: Ice-T beating up sexual offenders on television is 100% real). And after previewing his new joint,Gangsta Rap, I can officially say that Ice-T’s quality control is solid.

With less than two weeks until the release of Gangsta Rap, Ice-T and his model wifey, Coco, caught Page 6 attention for his album’s cover, which features both Ice-T and Coco lamping naked on a bed! Although the cover is highly suggestive, Coco’s leg tastefully covers Ice-T’s dick, while her jacked-up ass conquers any notion of homosexuality in the rap record section.

Sex sells everything and I cannot believe ass cheeks, side boobs and a sprawled Ice-T can offend people in 2006. But according to Melee Recordings, Ice-T’s label, the cover is too sexually explicit for most record stores. The plan is to place a sticker on Coco’s ass, a solution that will please major retailers like HMV, while enticing rap consumers to check out the dirty albumwith labels on it. Face it, warning labels might deter terrorists from making liquid bombs [really? –Ed.], but they do jack for cigarettes and lung cancer. The album’s liner notes are also supposed to feature more provocative shots of Coco, something that might drag MP3 nerds off the Internet into a record store to actually pay for music.

Here’s a warning (and some labelling/stereotyping): if Spank Rock, Dipset and J-Live are steady iPod bangers for your walk to third-year psychology classes at the University of Common, then skip Gangsta Rap. This album is made for O.G. rap fans that shit on Nirvana’s Nevermind in 1991 and think The Postal Service is how phone companies send monthly bills.

This Halloween, the only thing scarier than 20-somethings dressing up like toys, drinking too much and hitting trick-or-treating children with their Civics, are Ice-T’s new lyrics:

“I mack a bitch into a coma when I roll up on her/ get my brain up in her brain/ make the hooker love the corner…” – Pimp or Die

“If you faggots got some questions about how real this is/ I straight strong-arm half you niggas in the biz/ you bodyguard, bitch-made, motherfuckin’ fake-ass hoes/ can’t even roll for dolo/ walk through your own hood solo…” – The Game’s Real

“Keep lying, nigga, digging your grave/ claiming how you bust guns when you know you’re bitch-made/ your whole posse knows, nigga, when will you learn/ they’re looking at your bank roll looking to turn…” – Twice the Game

This October 31, I’m wearing khaki’s, checkered flannel and loc’s while I listen to Iceberg’s new album. Though it may offend nice, post-secondary school friends, this year Gangsta Rapcomes back!

Jordan Chalifoux

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