Questionable Lyrics #3: Beware the Beast Man...

The only thing more impressively dark than Paris's sociopolitical debut album in 1989 was his follow-up: Sleeping With the Enemy. He made the top hardcore artists of the day like NWA seem like clowns for not daring to get as political and serious as he did, and righteous, political acts like Public Enemy seem meek for not being as bold. This is the album George Bush himself spoke out against (ostensibly because of the anti-police song "Coffee, Doughnuts and Death," but more likely because the album cover originally depicted Paris about to assassinate Bush with an uzi. His label, Tommy Boy Records dropped the controversial album but Paris didn't give a fuck, he put the damn thing out himself. Shit was serious.

And he wasn't just picking safe "stick it to the man" targets. Who can forget "House Niggas Bleed Too?" One of many heavy, ominous beats and Paris spittin', "Thought I forgot ya, but I caught ya, punk; I thought ya knew: house niggas bleed, too. Shit ain't through."

But before we got to rhyming, the first half the song was the a recording of a traitor, the voice of temptation, selling out his race:

"What's wrong with having it good for a change? And they're gonna let us have it good if we just help 'em. They're gonna leave us alone, let us make some money. You can have a little taste of that good life, too. Now I know you want it... Hell, everybody does."
"You'd do it to your own kind..."
"What's the threat? We all sell out every day - might as well be on the winning team!"

But the song winds up having a slightly different feel to it if you recognize the vocal sample. Once you realize it's the voice of character actor George "Buck" Flower in the science fiction campfest, They Live. The race he's selling out is the human race, as he tries to convince wrestler Rowdy Roddy Piper that he should fall in line with the secret race of space aliens that he can only see when he wears his special sunglasses. They're talking outside the aliens' underground television studio/ interstellar airport, and the guy who interjects, "you'd do it to your own kind" is the great Keith David. At the end of his speech, Flower pushes a secret button on his watch, says, "see ya, boys" and disappears from the movie.

I actually think it's more impressive that Paris was able to pull such atmosphere and earnestness out of such a (charmingly) silly movie. It's one thing to sample a gangster movie on a gangsta rap record to evoke a little mood. But this took a real creative element to transform one set of emotions into something totally different, yet perhaps even more evocative than its original context.

And this isn't the only example of such a subversive move in Paris's catalog. Who wasn't chilled by the creepy, ominous words at the end of "The Devil Made Me Do It?"

"Beware the beast man, for he is the devil's pawn. Alone among God's primates, he kills for sport... for lust... for greed. Yea, he will murder his brother to possess his brother's land. Let him not breed in great numbers, for he will make a desert of his home and yours. Shun him. Drive him back into his jungle lair, for he is the harbinger of death."

That sounds like some crazy, gothic cult leader telling you judgement day's about to drop on us, right? Unless you're a film buff. Then you're picturing Roddy McDowell in a monkey mask reading this to Charlton Heston and friends out on the sunny Atlantic, beach. Yes, these lines are from the ending of the original Planet Of the Apes, and these words are spoken right before Heston gets on his horse and rides off into the sunset with his mute slave-girl to re-propagate the human race in the forbidden zone. But Paris makes it sound like some frikkin' scary-ass devil music.

Oh, and how I mentioned "Coffee, Doughnuts and Death?" That one opens with a dark exchange of police officers grievously abusing their authority and ultimately assaulting a woman: We hear police sirens and tires squealing as a cop car pulls up and two men jump out.

"Let's go. Inside!"

(knocking)
"Police! I said open up!"

"Isn't it a little late, officers?"

"This is an emergency. May we come in?"

"I'm... not really dressed."

"It's okay, we're police officers."

Would you believe an 80's James Spader horror movie about Jack the Ripper coming back to kill people in Los Angeles on the 100th anniversary of his death? Yup, it's called Jack's Back! I remember it because I was a hardcore horror fan as a kid, and taped every single horror movie that played on cable in the 80s. Spader plays twins - check out the trailer!

Paris's later albums seemed to lack the punch of his first two. I got Guerilla Funk, and that was alright. But I haven't really kept up, even though he kept releasing albums well through the 2000s. But it might be worth going through the rest of his catalog just to sample hunt, I don't know. Does he have a song where he harrowingly narrates the horrors of the Rwandan genocide that opens with a one and a half minute clip from Hollywood Hot Tubs 2: Educating Crystal? Because if anybody could pull it off...

Hell Raising and Bush Killing

Hip-hop didn't get much more controversial than Paris's second album, Sleeping With the Enemy. I remember first searing him when the video for "The Devil Made Me Do It" hit. I wasn't in a terribly receptive frame of mind, but by the end of the song I was blown away. This guy was coming harder than NWA (and the line "attitude but I ain't from Compton!" showed he wasn't afraid to say it to their face), merging it with the social awareness and revolutionary talk of Public Enemy. I immediately bought the single, then soon after the album, which also featured his earlier, more underground singles that I'd missed, "Scarface Groove" and "Break the Grip of Shame." This guy was the hardest ever (exactly what I was after at that age) - I mean, sure, I guess you had guys like The Geto Boys; but Paris wasn't kicking shock value songs like "Mind of a Lunatic" or "Chucky;" this was serious, socially conscious "message" rap that managed to be so edgy. And, wow, this was coming out on Tommy Boy?

Apparently, Tommy Boy couldn't believe it either, because when it was time for his second album, he was too hot for them to handle. First of all, the guy wanted to make his first single, "Coffee, Doughnuts and Death" a first person narrative about revenge killing cops over some "Atomic Dog" drums. The rapping doesn't even start until a minute and a half, because it opens with the extended sounds of a cop raping a woman. Tommy Boy was a subsidiary of Time Warner, and this was the year of the heavy metal song "Cop Killer," so it's not surprising that the label nixed that idea. ...I mean, can you imagine the music video?

But hey, they just passed on that as a single; they only wanted to him to go back and pick another song. We haven't even gotten to the real deal breaker yet.

See, one of the reasons "Cop Killer" was such a controversy, besides the obvious, is that the president himself (who at the time was George Bush, the senior) spoke out against it, calling the song "sick," pressuring Time Warner to remove the song from the album, which they did. ...So take that fact, and combine it with the fact that Paris was surely no fan of Bush's politics in the first place, and we come to the concept Paris came up with for his second album cover... George Bush is waving at the press as he walks around the White House, and Paris is seen hiding in the foreground, dressed all in black and holding a machine gun, about to take him out. It would go with the new song he was recording, called "Bush Killa" where... no, see; Warner Bros wasn't having that. Paris also shopped it around to the other major hip-hop labels - no takers.

But Paris was generating enough controversy with this stuff that he could release the album on his own independent label, Scarface Records, with just as much distribution as Tommy Boy could. So he put out Sleeping With the Enemy himself with a safer, non-threatening cover. But, while I'm not so sure about the LP and CD; the cassette does feature that original cover photo on the inside [pictured above], as well as the track "Bush Killa." But that's not bad ass enough, dear reader, for this blog. I still haven't gotten to today's record.

On the album, "Bush Killa" came with a long introduction. The first minute was a skit (yeah, that's one of the problems with this second album), where Paris snipes George Bush at a parade. Then, that's followed by a one-minute freestyle; and finally the song starts. Remember that? Okay.

Well, today's record is the first single off Sleeping With the Enemy, "Days of Old," a slower, calmer song reminiscing on his youth. I guess even Paris saw the wisdom in releasing safer stuff when it came to putting out on his own dime. It's an okay song... it still has a message, but even in 1992, it was a tired "heard it before" sample. I mean, Paris's voice does sound pretty good over it, and he adds a few tiny new elements; but he's basically using a giant chunk of an old record that had already been used to great effect years earlier. I mean, not only did Shakespeare and the Last Empire flip it first years earlier, but The Almighty RSO had just used it earlier in the year; and it was still in everybody's decks. So, the video got some play; and the single comes in a dope picture cover and includes the instrumental, but it's all pretty shrug-worthy.

Until you flip it over, that is. On the back is the "Bush Killa" Hellraiser Mix - now this is the reason to buy this record. The first thing you'll notice on the label is the running time: eight and a half minutes! And, when you start playing it, you'll realize that he cut off the minute long skit AND the minute long freestyle introductions. Since the original was just under five minutes; that means he added 5 and a half minutes worth to this song, almost tripling its length!

It starts out just like the album version ...except, again, minus the first two minutes. But once the album version kicked in with the song proper, it was pretty much the exact same thing as how the Hellraiser song plays. Same vocals, same guitar (by Kenny M, who also played on Paris's first album), same ominous bassline and the same "Atomic Dog" drums. "Wait a minute, Werner, didn't you say he used the 'Atomic Dog' percussion on the cop killing song?" Yes, well, along with the skits, that's the other problem with this album: unoriginal sampling. Regardless, it sounds good - there's a reason it's used so often... it's a classic break. And combined with the scratches and other samples brought in on here; it sounds pretty incredible.

But where the album ended with gunshots (which, if I recall, lead into another skit); this 12" mix is just at the 3 minute mark. The gunshots are blended into some juggled percussion and instrumentation. Then Paris comes in with an all-new verse:

"Now you know...
That I ain't never been a slave to the bottle;
All I see on the tube is the punk black role models:
The passive girl-like she-men
That make and dictate the lives of black men.
And sometimes I wanna give up hope,
'Cause all they wanna do is grow up and work for white folks,
Or be a pimp, drug dealer or sports star;
It ain't no wonder the blacks don't go far.
Now the trick is stay quick to bust shit.
Got to be equipped so the devil can't flip;
And be aware of the government plan to keep
Young black folk walkin' in our sleep.
Fuck the games; I still feel the pain,
I still feel the shame, 'cause ain't nothin' changed.
I can't fade peace when the war is all around;
You better run 'cause the lost are bein' found.
Choose your team, square up and take sides,
But don't be punked or a skunk when the gat fire.
'Cause I'm the first one to let the caps go;
No more vetoes or negroes
Who run scared, full of fear when the devil squawk.
Funk is on to the dome; the glock'll talk,
And be sure that a devil is peeled.
Make way for the motherfuckin' Bush Killa!"

Then the song transforms into a crazy, hardcore megamix! A ton of records are brought in, sometimes for quick vocal samples, other times to flip the whole song and add in entirely new musical elements. Kenny M then goes for a huge, wild guitar solo, until they finally let the beat ride some more and eventually fade out. Paris effectively turned the song into an epic to match the song's infamy.

Pro-Black Radical Raps Upliftin'

Though he's been relatively consistent over the past 20(!) years he's been recording, Paris's later material is often met with skepticism and disinterest in the hip-hop community... probably due to his going a bit overboard with the P-funk. But you'd be hard pressed to find somebody who'd front on his debut album, The Devil Made Me Do It.

And 1989's "Break the Grip of Shame," the second single on Tommy Boy/Scarface Records (the latter being Paris's own label), is as strong as anything on the album. Hard beats, deep, ominous bass notes, a little rhythm guitar, a fast-paced, angry delivery from Paris with something serious to say, and some tight scratches by Mad Mike? It's hard to improve on that formula.

Not that he's saying anything too complicated or profound. Basically, all three verses boil down to a declaration that he'll say whatever he wants and take no shit:

"With a raised fist I resist;
I don't burn, so don't you dare riff
Or step to me; I'm strong and black and proud,
And for the bullshit I ain't down."

And it's not necessarily expressed positively:

"Life in the city's already rough enough
Without some young sucka runnin' up.
You don't know me, so don't step;
I roll to the right and then bust your lip."

It's just that straight up, hardcore flexing you want from a rough hip-hop record:

"I stomp sixteen solo,
Straight for the jugular. Hope that I don't
Swarm and bust a cap by night, so
You just keep your place, 'cause I won't stop."

So, you can see from my photo that this comes in an ill picture cover (which may've misled you into believing this was going to be a song about police brutality). It features two mixes: the Radio Mix, which we don't care about, and The Final Call, which we certainly do.

The Final Call clocks in at 8:10, which makes it more than double the length of the original version, which is about three and a half minutes. This is an extended mix, alright; way extended.

You'll notice the first difference right at the first second. You know how the album version features a clip from a Malcolm X speech between Paris's second and third verses? Well, this version opens with another speech clip. I miss the days when hip-hop did this semi-regularly. It sounds dope.

Anyway, from there you've got some typical "let the beat ride" moments that you'd expect in an extended mix. But after Paris's last verse is when the bulk of the new material kicks in. The beat keeps on as Mad Mike takes over the rest of the song for the next four minutes. Sometimes he busts some serious, fresh scratches and other times he just drops in various vocal and instrumental samples over the track (including a P-funk breakdown to herald things to come in Paris's career).

The only downside is that The Final Call uses the censored, Radio edit of the song. Now, Paris doesn't curse as much as a lot of his contemporaries, so it's not like it renders the song as unlistenable as many radio edits do. But it's a definite flaw; and it's a frustrating shame we can't get a "proper" version of this. Still, there's no alternative; and this record's definitely worth your time regardless.