In 1992, West Bank New Orleans outfit Mobo Records released Hard As Tha Fuck, the debut album from the Ruthless Juveniles. These cats were on some straight up gangsta, rob-you-then-kill-you-then-deface-your-corpse-then-make-a-song-about-it, damned near horrorcore shit. (In fact, their DJ, who went by the name Death, went on to release a straight up horrorcore album called Possessed by the Ouija Board, which blatantly bit the style of Houston rapper Ganksta Nip.)

The Ruthless Juveniles were like Mobb Deep with New Orleans accents. On every one of their songs someone was relieved of property, maimed, killed, or at the very least spoken of in unkind, disrespectful terms. But in the process of producing this gangsta rap opus, Lil’ Badness and Fo’ Shob happened upon an epiphany:

Lil’ Badness: Ayo, Shob.
Fo’ Shob: What up, bruh?
Lil’ Badness: Man, through this whole album, bruh, we ain’t threw shit together for the hoes to pop off.
Fo’ Shob: Yeah…
Lil’ Badness: So what’s your suggestion?
Fo’ Shob: Hold on, lemme think about that shit, man. Hold that noise, know’m sayn? So I could think…awright, we gon run dat shit for them hoes on the one…
Together: Run dat shit, a-run dat shit, a-runna-runna-run dat shit, run dat shit….Biiiiiiiiitch!

And what came forth from this epiphany was a guiltless guilty pleasure. What came forth was a wantonly “nignorant” tirade against the sins of “tricking” and East Bank bias which still managed to show love to Uptown, Downtown, and both banks. What came forth was the sole Bounce offering of the Ruthless Juveniles (unless you count their delightfully terse album intro featuring label head Mobo Joe shamelessly showing off his speech impediment as he spat, “Where the…West…Bank…at?” like a cross between a Speak & Spell and a toddler just learning how to talk). What came forth was one of my favorite songs of all time.

And it was called “Run Dat Shit”.

“Run Dat Shit” is a 4 minute celebration of some of the most base materialism and territorialism of early 90’s New Orleans. Wards and projects are shouted out, status symbol clothing brands are name-dropped, and fundamental character traits are assigned based on which part of the city you reside in. If you were depending on this song to show you the difference between, say, an “East Bank Nigga” and a “West Bank Nigga”, your research would glean the following:
1.) East Bank Niggas think dey all dat. West Bank Niggas ARE all dat.
2.) East Bank Niggas don’t deserve fellatio. West Bank Niggas do.
3.) East Bank Niggas spend money on women. West Bank Niggas don’t triiiiiick.

Now, as with most Bounce songs, if you’re reading these statements without the benefit of the rhythms and beats and energy, it most assuredly looks ridiculous. But if you allow yourself to get lost in the richness of the Ruthless Juveniles’ voices and the seductiveness of their sacrilegious chants, then you can run away with the magic of “Run Dat Shit”. And its layers of well-placed samples don’t hurt. “The Ghetto” by Donny Hathaway, “Love’s Gonna Get Ya” by Boogie Down Productions, “I Feel Like Funkin’ It Up” by Rebirth Brass Band, “Children’s Story” by Slick Rick and even Ricky Bell’s memorable closing croon from Bell Biv Devoe’s “Poison” all make appearances, mixed so well that I can’t tell if they’re all really samples or if at least a couple were interpolations.

All said, this is a song that I can never play just once; I always have to “run dat shit” back at least once more. Hearing it fills me with New Orleans pride and nostalgia. Very little about the song is positive, but that doesn’t stop me from associating it with positive feelings about the power of music to embed itself in your experiences until it is itself an experience. Some Americans find beauty in “The Star Spangled Banner”, a song which I interpret to be about war. So why can’t I find beauty in a song about the War of the Wards? Is it problematic? Sure. But it’s my problem. It’s my city. And I’m runnin’ wit dat shit.

“Talkin’ dat shit, stuntin’ witcha boys /
You wrote the song and think the 9th Ward has got it goin’ on /
But dat West is in effect; Marrero and Algiers rock the house /
We rock this bitch so fuckin’ hard that we’ll turn you hoes out /
I said niggaaaaa, stop sweatin’ dat 9th /
‘Cause your brother brought a knife to a gunfight /
Now Manhattan got my back, and Harvey’s takin’ up /
Now I wantcha hoe ass to BOOT UP! BOOT UP! /
Biiiiiitch, stop jockin’ dat East Bank /
And suck a nigga dick from da West Bank /
He might buy you a Polo, a Damage outfit /
But a West Bank nigga don’t triiiiiiick! . . .”

As Nas put it in “Project Window”: “Every night the same melody; Hell sounding so heavenly…”