If you know me, you know Phonte Coleman is one of my favorite rappers. I am a die hard Tigallo fan, and the first time I got to perform in his hometown of Greensboro, North Carolina last November meant a lot to me. No he wasn't there, but that's how much I Stan him. Well this rip was nothing Stan. At all.
Lemme run it down.
My flight is supposed to leave at 12:15pm, and get to Raleigh/Durham airport at 5:55pm. From there my new tour DJ, Illadope (also the tour DJ from Clear Soul Forces) was to pick me up, we check into the room, and go to the show. Well when I get up at 8:00am to get my notes done for the day, I also check my email and see that at 3:34am that morning, Southwest sent something saying that my flight has been canceled.
Just as I began to panic, I see another email saying that my flight had been rebooked, and is now leaving at 1:15pm, but I wouldn't get to RDU until 9:55pm. Crisis aborted, so I thought at the time. I mean, the doors were supposed to open at 9:30 PM, after I get my bags, I can get to Greensboro in an hour, check into the room, and be at the venue for 11. It's a Friday night, this is a college town, so the likelihood of the show starting on time and me being too late to rock was slim. Right?
So I get on the plane, 'Lo tee, 'Lo camo sweatshorts, 'Lo thong sandals, un-pedicured toes out all in my spledor. Sit in the front of the plane, go scr8 to sleep. Layed over in STL for 4 hours, then back on the plane to Raleigh. I get to the baggage claim, and I only see one of my bags, the Nautica one with all my clothes. I pick it up, and wait on my merch bag, a gray and black Nike duffle. Out the corner of my eye I see what I think is my bag, until a white teen whom I assume to be a high school baseball player picks it up and hits the exit. I wasn't sure if it was my bag or not, so I waited until the end, and when it didn't come I went outside in hopes of seeing him and ask him to look into the bag just in case it wasn't his. By the time I go outside, he's gone, but I see Illa Dope, so I throw the bag I do have into the rental, and go back inside to see what's up.
I get to the baggage claim counter and they say the bag may have gotten lost in St. Louis, and they didn't know where tf it was. So I had to file a claim, and they told me that if it comes in on the 1:00am flight, that they will deliver it to my hotel. It's already 10:45pm, and there's nothing else I can do but go check into the hotel so that I'll have a place for them to deliver it too. Illa Dope and I catch up as we slab to Greensboro, finally pulling up to the room and checking in about a quarter till midnight.
When I'm not wearing Polo, I'm prolly dripped out in a Black owned clothing company that I found on the 'Gram. I've been had the Black Panthers snapback by Free Breakfast Program since last summer, but now I got the tee and the hoodie to match. So we get to the venue, New York Pizza, and it really looks like a bodega spot where you can get a slice in Brooklyn. I'm dressed in a black hoodie, Polo camo denim jeans, and my grapefruit AF1 high's, lowkey like Panther Proud (only my real #RapRehab heads will get that). I walk in, no merch to boot, and there's only like 10 people inside, at 12:30am.
Finna be one of "those" nights.
I'm an underground rapper, so hey this is my reality. They can't all be great shows. At the time there was a white kid rapping, who actually wasn't bad, but nobody gave a fuck. I knew it was gonna be a wild night when my nigga Prop Joe who was the host/DJ for the night hilariously shouted me out, and made a call for Poe Mack, the homie who booked me, to come the the DJ booth WHILE the white kid was performimg. No respect lmao. As I wait to check in with Poe, I introduce Illa to Joe, and then go sit in the corner. This is when shit just went all the way fucking left.
JUST LEAVE ME ALONE
If you know me, you know I'm friendly and easy going. You also know, that If I don't wanna be bothered, I don't wanna be bothered. I know I'm Marcel P. Black, and I need to be accessible, but I'd been traveling all damn day, I lost my bag with thousands of dollars of merch in it, now I have to rap in front of 10 people who don't give a fuck about rappers. I really wanted to go back to the room, but Poe is my nigga, and I'm a stand up guy. With that said, I wanted to be left TF alone until I rap, so I can get my money and go get some rest.
Enter "Crazy/Slightly Racist White Woman."
I'm minding all of my own gotdamn business, and this heavy set white lady with reddish brown hair comes and taps me on the shoulder starts asking those "are you cool bro" questions that white people ask they they aren't sure if they should be afraid of you or not, but don't have the sense to leave you tf alone, because minding their own gotdamn business is apparently too much to ask.
I'm getting mad just thinking bout it lol.
C/SRWW: Excuse me, can I ask you a personal question?
Me: ...... I guess, wassup?
C/SRWW: So I see you're wearing the Black Panther stuff. Are you wearing it because you want equality for all people to get fucked up equally?
Me: What? What makes you ask me that?
C/SRWW: Well you know, some people think the Black Panthers were extreme like Malcolm X.
Me: What did Malcolm X do that was so extreme? Do think Malcolm X was extreme?
C/SRWW: Well you know, some people think Black Panthers are the same thing as the KKK?
Me: Do YOU think the BPP and the KKK are the same thing? And why are you asking me this again?
C/SRWW: Well you know, you're wearing the Black Panther stuff, which I don't have a problem with, but some people say it's like wearing a Confedarate flag, which is fine, becaues I don't think the flag is racist.
Me: *taken aback.... First off, don't ever slander Malcolm X, or falsely equivocate the BPP to the KKK again. Secondly, you don't think the Confederacy was racist, or the flag that they flew represented racism? They literally went to war to make sure Black people like me remained slaves...
C/SRWW: Well they were just fighting for the southern way, and it's just a flag.
Me: You mean keeping human beings as chattel in chains? Yeah, I'm gonna stop this right here. Have a nice night.
C/SRWW: No we don't have to stop...
Me: Yeah we do, I'm finna rap. Have a nice night.
At this point I had ran outta time, I was hungry, pissed that I didn't know where the hell my merch back was, and tired. I just didn't have anymore time for her passive aggressive/quasi-racist bullshit.
AND my flash drive with all my music was in the merch bag so I had to find a set from another show I'd sent to another DJ in my gmail account. As soon as I walked in, I knew this wasn't a "Hip-Hop head" crowd, as it was a bunch of hood rap niggas and they old ladies, as well as a Crazy/Slightly Racist White Woman, that I learned is lowkey a stalker. More on that later.
I tell Poe I'm ready to go on, so I can get this show on the road. Joe introduces me, I do the intro, and them niggas look at me like, oh, this nigga finna rap, but still wasn't too interested. I go in to "#CultureOverEverything," and people just look at me. Next there's "Principles & Standards," and they liven up just a little bit, but I couldn't get much crowd participation, especially on the "real emcees don't rap over vocals" call & response. I later found out why, most of the niggas in the crowd where rappers who rapped over vocals.
"Black God Fresh" is up third, and now the crowd is finally rocking with me. See, if I had my flash drive with all my music, I woulda called an audible the moment I pulled up and saw this is more of a hood crowd than "Hip-Hop crowd." They fuck with the beat, the hook, and the "Southern Conscious Biggie Smalls" line. Now it's time for "FreeBLKPPL" which surprisingly got them going when the beat dropped. The crowd all kinda stopped drinking/eating and nodded they heads. When I finished the beat, a few of the rappers told me to run the beat back so they can freestyle over it. I had to explain to them that that ain't no mixtape beat, that that was a whole song that's been released and published for damn near two years, DURING MY SET.
Oh yeah, the Crazy/Slightly Racist White Woman left during the song, I guess asking for Black people ot be free is triggering for a Confedarate apologist. And I don't give a good damn one bit.
I try to preface "Hallelujah," and when I ask the crowd can I say "Fuck Donald Trump," these niggas look at me like I asked them to allow R. Kelly to babysit their pre-teen daugher. Mind you these are hood niggas, who are scared to slander this racist POTUS. One sister, who was actually quite fine, said "Nah you don't need to say that, Make America Great Again."
What in the Kanye Omari West is goin' on here?
When I ask what was the area code, they said "336," and started shouting out Vice Lord sets.
I def gotta get tf outta here mane.
I do "Hallelujah," to the worst fan fare ever, and get hell off stage. I go get some pizza, that was quite delicous, get my money, and we head back to the room, not before stopping to get some water so I don't cramp up from being dehydrated and fatigued.
Just when I thought I had the worst show day in a while, when I didn't think my experience couldn't get any worse, Baymont Inn said "hold my beer." I've stayed in ALOT of hotels around the country. Some nice af if provided, the bag is right, or I catch a nice deal, some have been kinda trash, but never have I experienced this.
I take a shower to get the days funk off my back both literally and figuritively, and all seems to be getting better. The room is pretty nice for the price I paid, the bed is soft, that's all a nigga care about at this point. Mane picture why Illa Dope wakes me up at 5:45am while I'm sleep af and tells me he's about to sleep in the truck because he's being bitten by bed bugs.
BED BUGS NIGGA!!!
What in the hell is happening to me, and why?
I immediately call the front desk and tell them what's going on while Illadope hops in the shower, and I began shaking all my clothes out while the mane at the front desk is tryinna find a new room for us. He eventually calls us back, we put out bags in the rental, and go back to the new room for a few hours of sleep at 6:00am till checkout at 11:00am. We check the new room for bugs, don't see none, and go to sleep.
IT AIN'T OVER
We finally wake up, head to front counter to check out, and guess who tf I see.
THE CRAZY/SLIGHTLY RACIST WHITE WOMAN CHECKING OUT TOO!!!
Greensboro REFUSES to not act right on this day. I see her and pretend she doesn't exist, because if she comes with that bullshit again, I'ma let her have it. She doesn't say anything and walks out the hotel. When I get to the front desk I ask had anyone called about my bags, and the lady says no. She said if they woulda came she woulda called the room, and I told her I was just making sure, because we had to switch rooms because niggas was getting snacked on by bed bugs.
When I said it, she immediately made a note, and refunded my money, because I was gonna cut up if I had to pay for the room. We go get something to eat at Biscuitville, and begin our trek to Roanoke, Virginia, where the craziness with Crazy/Slightly Racist White Women awaits us. I know shit could be worse, and having these negative experiences builds character, but damn mane. I also wanna say, none of this if Poe Mack's fault, and I'm very thankful that he gave me the opportunity to rock when he didn't have too. I had a bad day, and shit kept compiling to the point it became a wash.
Venue: 3/5. Actually not a bad space for a underground rap show. No stage, and just not lit.
Crowd: 3/5. They weren't terrible, they were just weird.
Merch: 0/5. MF's ain't have nann.
Sound: 2/5. Lowkey trash.
Next show: 4/27/19 in Roanoke, Virginia