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Hip- Hop Survivor

Outwit, outlast, out-rap: How Snoop Dogg stays in style.

Cover story

May 08, 2005|By Rashod D. Ollison , Sun Pop Music Critic

One, two, three and to the fo' / Snoop Doggy Dogg and Dr. Dre is at the do' / Ready to make an entrance, so back on up ...

We first met him in 1992: Calvin Broadus, a tall, lanky, 20-year-old from Long Beach, Calif. He went by Snoop Doggy Dogg then, but he soon dropped the Doggy part. Compton-raised Andre Young -- better known as Dr. Dre, perhaps the greatest producer in hip-hop -- introduced us to the rapper in "Deep Cover," the theme song from that year's dark Laurence Fishburne flick. A buzz started. Who was this cat with the laconic style outshining Dre on the producer-rapper's first solo record?

Snoop's star exploded the next year when he poured his drawled, brandy-smooth rhymes on The Chronic, Dre's breakthrough CD and one of the seminal albums in hip-hop. The West Coast gangsta rap movement -- with its vintage funk grooves and often-violent tales and images -- was in full bloom then. At its center stood Snoop: corn-rowed and stoned-faced, his baggy, nondescript gear hanging off his telephone-pole frame.

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Since then, Snoop, who tonight performs at the Patriot Center in Fairfax, Va., has made pop culture history. His masterful, 1993 Dre-produced debut Doggystyle was the first debut album ever to enter Billboard charts at No. 1. In the same year, he faced murder charges and was cleared of them. And, with brazenly misogynistic lyrics, he outraged industry elders, including the legendary Dionne Warwick, who in the early '90s spoke out against Snoop and other rappers.

But as hip-hop culture has become mainstream, the shrewd, undeniably talented Snoop -- today an attentive husband and father of three -- no longer seems quite so outrageous. His scheduled appearance on a 2002 Muppet Christmas Special may have been nixed and an appearance at Harvard University last month may have been canceled at the last minute, but the fact remains: Snoop was invited.

He's doing T-Mobile commercials these days. And late last year, the rapper garnered a Grammy nomination for "Drop It Like It's Hot," a deceptively simple, bass-heavy number from his platinum album, R&G -- Rhythm and Gangster: The Masterpiece.

It is not Snoop who has changed. His gangsta posturing, his exaggerated pimp persona, his explicit music remain essentially the same as they were in 1992. He still raps about smoking weed, chasing money and "pimping" women as he continues to perpetuate demeaning stereotypes of black masculinity.

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