by_it's_cover Raina ...So there I was, the only other female in a crowded, beat up Pontiac Sunfire, making the hour long trip back to Northern Illinois University. Not long in travel time, but extra long because of the immature behavior of the other passengers. The second female was taken, and huddled under her man in the back seat. Me, being smaller in stature, fit nicely (?) between the gear shift in the front seat, dealing with the first guy pulling my hair, the second guy asking me where I went to high school, and the guy up front pumping cigarette smoke in my face. Now, usually this would make me irratable, but I really didn't get vexed until the driver put a tape in the car, the song that played was "come Clean" by Jeru. It had JUST come out, nobody knew who Jeru was. And these crabs were dissing the track. I spoke in defense, "this is a dj Premier track. And the way he flipped that Shabba Ranks reggae cut was ill..." The cabin of the vehicle grew silent... "whatchu know about hip hop shorty?" one of the fellows grunted, and there was laughter from all occupants. Not even the other b-girl in the car stuck up for me. Maybe it was my appearance, I mean, yes I did closely resemble 'ghetto fabulous', fake nail tips, freeze curls, and the tight jeans, but dang... Did my style of dress mean I was a know-not? So anyway, for the next 40 minutes, they called themselves testing me...playing every hip-hop song they could think of, they wanted me to name either the title, artist, or producer, which in all cases, I successfully named all three. I guess I finally proved myself to them when I knocked their curveball out of the park. Seems that one of the guys in the car was a producer, so they threw in one of his tracks... not only did I name it, I dissed it as well... And the lesson was learned that the baggy jeans and backwards baseball caps were not hip hop uniform for everybody.... Never judge a book by it's cover. 001016 what's it to you? who go blather from