There are certainly no rules on how you can govern yourself provided that you’re not hurting anyone else.
No written rules, at least.
Unwritten rules would include shit like, don’t hold yout hand above a flame if you don’t wanna get burned, don’t have lots of unprotected sex if you don’t wanna get burned and don’t flaunt your wealth among poor people and expect them to join you in celebration.
And a couple things on that last unwritten rule:
- Doing so doesn’t, by any means, justify any attempts to rob or any harm that comes to you
- There are ways that, while wealthy, you can still enjoy or at least endure the company of poor people.
On that latter note, rapper Troy Ave, born Roland Collins, who with his girlfriend when he was was shot twice while driving a Maserati through East Flatbush, which is, bar none, the most hood neighborhood in Brooklyn, could have come back around the way bearing gifts.
It was Christmas after all.
There’s a possibility, maybe as much as a likelihood that if he’d returned dressed understated and carrying maybe turkeys, or driving a U-Haul full of gifts for kids, he might have even gotten a hero’s welcome.
And, like I said, while coming through on a humble still only might have gotten Mr. Collins a pass, coming through that area stuntin in a ride that’s worth more than the average household yearly income for a family of four will bring out the wolf in otherwise friendlier animals.
And, again, like I said, I’m still not justifying the shooting of Troy Ave.
That’s still a crime and that’s still fucked up.
But, if we can couch our sympathies for rape victims by arguing about the (lack of) wisdom of getting drunk and passing out a frat parties, then there are certainly ways we would expect a rapper – of all people – should have common sense enough not to behave in to the extent that it almost becomes difficult to feel for the dude.
Add to that, of course, the fact that Troy Ave might have actually murdered some dude while famous.
Not that morally murdering before you’re famous is different that murdering while famous, but at least if you do it before you’re famous, you can argue that since then, you’ve turned your life around.
If you do it after you’re famous, you’re Aaron Hernandez, some type of psychopath at best, a poseur looking way late for credibility, at worst.
And, sadly, thinking that between these two, the latter is exactly what young Troy Ave is, expect getting shot to add even more to his quest for full Hip Hop authenticity.
I mean, he’s already from Brooklyn, it’s possible he sold drugs, he probably killed somebody and now he’s been shot up – being hit even more than once.
The only thing that could possibly top all those things and align him among the ranks of Hip Hop’s true immortals – because his lyrics damn sure never will – would be for him to, in the tradition of Biggie and Pac, actually get killed.
I wouldn’t put it past him to try that too.
Then there’d be no way his haters could front on him.