Curtis Hawk, 22, says rap reflects the harshness of ghetto life. ``It's 5 after 4 and my life ain't guaranteed 'til 5 o'clock,'' he says, recalling being robbed at gunpoint of his wallet and coat and being ``scared to death'' ever since. He says kids from dysfunctional families believe they have a right to rob you because they were deprived of loving moms and dads, and of the cars, clothes and high living so central to rap culture.
``They don't look at how hard you worked for it - they just see you got it, '' Curtis says. ``And the only people they can relate to who got it are Tupac and Biggie Smalls.''
Considering the flashy success of rappers who glorify violence in the minds of young folks who have nothing - and nothing to lose - violence can become a life's only choice.
``As black children in the urban center, your lives are portrayed as negative,'' Curtis says. ``You're five steps behind the rest of the world. So you see life, automatically, as harder. And if you can find an easier and faster way out - you take it. Street life is a way out.''
But unlike on CDs and videos - on real streets, people die.
Jeri Coleman, 21, says that while some rap artists come from the streets, others overstate - or create - their experiences. ``I hope people will realize that even though these records talk about the gangsta life - a lot of them are not really into the lives they talked about.''
The theme of authenticity - trying to ``keep it real'' or ``make it real'' - is central to hip-hop culture, and best illustrated by Notorious B.I.G., a drug dealer and thug who rapped his way to fame and fortune off the experience, only to be swallowed up by the destructive imagery central to his success.
