Grade A Certified


Posted by J. Tinsley on June 7, 2009

Last night, I ventured off to a steakhouse-turned-nightclub named Rox-C’s for two simple reasons. One, my best friend’s cousin, Fynch Money (pictured beside a VERY young Trey Songz), let us walk right in without dropping a dime for a cover charge. From that moment, I knew, barring me leaving with bullet holes, I couldn’t complain about the how the night would eventually end up. The second being we had absolutely nothing else to do, so options weren’t exactly in surplus.

After walking inside, it was clear to see, as far as wardrobe was concerned, I was out of place. My cargo shorts, button up Polo and Nike boots were no match for the sea of Coogi, slouch socks and over-sized shirts. None of that bothered me, especially seeing as how I knew quite a few of the paying customers as former high school classmates. The vibe was cool, and I even came up on a free drink. However, the one image that disturbed me the entire night was the number of pregnant females around a thick cloud of cigarette smoke…and they seemed perfectly fine with it. While we’re on the topic, I inhaled so much second hand smoke that I hope my feeling of light headedness this morning wasn’t the result of what seemed like an endless supply of Marlboro 100’s.

While many of these establishments often have the label of “hood clubs” placed on them (whether they are warranted or not is up to the individual club goer), hands down the best aspect of them is the music. Since my graduation from college over a year ago, I can count on my hand the number of parties where I actually enjoyed the song selection. Clearly the furthest from a DJ, I still know all about song progression and what should be played when (and how many times), thanks in part from spending hours upon hours around Tay James (pause).

Obviously, the success of any great party depends solely on the music and at this particular soiree, the music complimented the crowd, almost perfectly.  The “Stanky Leg’s”, “Swag Surfin’s” and all  current party anthems of the world were played, but it was a particular set of songs from yesteryear which sent the “get together” into another atmosphere.

Oh yeah, for the record, I didn’t hear Drake one time. Go figure.

1. Damn near any Gucci Mane song ever recordedIf there was ever any doubt as to how powerful this man’s buzz is, go out on a Saturday night and observe what happens anytime “GUCCI BABY” starts blasting through the speakers. It was damn near like choir rehearsal in there and even I must admit, his music sounds 100x better when in that atmosphere. Call it ignorance or whatever you like, I call it having a good time. OJ Da Juiceman also works in this environment as well.

2. Shawty Lo–Dunn Dunn: Lyrical is one thing Carlos is not, but this was one hell of a record. The pounding beat, accompanied with the painful catchy chorus was more than enough for a “hood hit”. The jab at his former nemesis is still the most memorable bar from the entire record, evident at everyone yelling, “NIGGA SAID HE FROM THE WESTSIDE…GOT DAMN, MUST BE TWO SIDES!!!”, at the top of their lungs (many of those lungs were filled with cigarette smoke, so applaud them for effort).

3. Lil’ Wayne–A Milli: When this record came on, my eyes lit up and my memory automatically flashed back to the spring 2008 semester, my last in college. Oh the memories…the memories. To my surprise, I still remember damn near all the words.

4. Young Jeezy x Bun B–Trap Or Die: All the dopeboys (and girls) went Amy Winehouse crazy when this started blasting through the speakers, and for good reason. This still remains one of Jeezy’s hardest, yet most popular records ever. Keep in mind this had the streets on lock…in 2005. How girls still managed to grind to this record was nothing short of amazing, but the majority of the club had their hands in the air proclaiming they, too, “smoked purp by the pound and goose by the fifth”.

5. C-Murder–Down 4 My Niggaz: While I will always stick to my guns (no pun intended) and say he could be one of the dumbest rappers ever for the decisions he makes (shooting up a club because he was unable to enter), this song…this song right here…is whatever you call something that’s beyond legendary. It’s been tearing up parties for years and probably one of those records that will never die down because of the ambiance that surrounds it. The most amazing thing, however. No fights broke out as a result of this song, not even the classic chest bumping and name calling because of someone bumping into another person or stepping on a fresh pair of J’s.

All in all, it was a successful night taking into account all the factors that were involved. No complaints, just a lot of laughs (and smoke) and look what came out of it, I lived to talk the entire thing.

Until next time, you say classy Rox-C’s. Again, shout out to Fynch Money.


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