The Murderers (THESource Article)

It's any man's game. One miscalculated move can result in a loss. But an unrepentant Murderer, Irv Gotti, knows how to play. So far, he's ahead. Tonight, Gotti is in Enterprise Studios in Burbank, California. Clad in a red­on-red Sean John short set and immaculate white Air Force 1s, he leans over the studio's mixing board. He uses vary-speeding, key sequences, SSLs, slaves and masters to move sounds and it's all part of his ultimate strategy: to make "big records" and earn check after check.

A small circle of crimson lights casts a hellish glow over the room as the knob­twisting, button-mashing mastermind executes what hip-hop purists might call a sadistic crime-his interpolation of Tupac Shakur's 1995 classic, "So Many Tears," in a song called "The Pledge." As the vocals of his franchise artists Ja and Ashanti har­monize with the dead man's tortured prayer, Gotti gleefully raises his arms as if absorbing every drop of emotion. His off­hand references to vibing with angels and demons and his plans to release his own solo LP entitled Satangelic: the LG. Theory beg the question of whether this is Black music or black magic.

Here at the studio, a stone's throw from Hollywood, it's easy to get caught up in the illusion, the drama, the hype. But-to use a phrase Gotti endearingly peppers his conversations with-let's engage in "real talk." While he often references deceased spirits, arcane forces and a magical Murder chemistry, he also has a mean mouthpiece and a hustler's eye for the angles. He puts the former to work when he coerces plat­inum performances out of underdogs, turns Murder into a household name and not-so-subtly suggests angles to journal­ists ("This story should be about how the good guys rose above the clowns").

That only partly accounts for the wave of Murder Inc.-commissioned hits that have pummeled the record biz into submission. At press time, Irv Gotti-produced songs (namely Ja's "Livin' it Up," "Down Ass Bitch," and "Always on Time," J.Lo's Murder remixes "I'm Real" and "Ain't it Funny," Mary J. Blige's "Rainy Dayz," Fat Joe's "What's Luv," and Ashanti's "Foolish" and "Happy") had appeared on Billboard's Top 20 list for 56 consecutive weeks since July 2001. "Always on Time,"

"Ain't it Funny" and "Foolish" alone terror­ized the No. 1 spot for nearly the entire first quarter of 2002. According to Gotti, that unimpeachable track record has raised Murder Inc.'s value to an estimated $75-100 million.

The secret to these smash singles lies neither in Gotti's alleged connections to the underworld (he counts among his men­tors Queens hustlers and street legends like Supreme, Wayne Davis and AI Monday) nor in the otherworld. Money is simply blessed with "ears," he says-that golden gift that industry folks would sell their souls for. As a result, he has become quite the marketing wizard since he came into the game as DJ Irv from Queens, New York, in 1993. He has combined into a winning formula the best elements of the superpowers that monopolized hip­hop in the mid '90s, Bad Boy and Death Row: the suffocating visibility and pop­savvy sound of the former and what he calls the "eventfulness and don't-give-a­fuck attitude" of the latter. As Hannibal Lecter exposes Ray Liotta's bloody, throbbing gray matter on the studio's 50" flat-screen TV, Irv raises his eyebrows, grins and utters, "Gotti got a brain."

Wiry and high-strung, Ja Rule is finding it hard to sit still as the on-site barber at a Los Angeles photo shoot shaves his hair down to a neat Caesar. The topic of discussion, betrayal, has him a little worked up. "It's been a real chess game that me and Gotti have been playing," he says. "There's been a lot of disloyalty throughout the ranks. But in war and in competition, the aggressive move isn't always the move. You don't go for checkmate on every shot."

Every team needs a foundation player to buy into the plan and anchor the troops, and this Hollis, Queens, native named Jeffrey Atkins-his initials form the "Ja" in Ja Rule­has been holding down his side from day one. In so doing, he's swallowed his pride time and again. Right now, Ja's MTV and BET visibility is about as omnipresent as the Rastafarian deity he's named after, but for a guy who was regularly knocked as a poor-man's DMX or a pseudo-Tupac, his rise to the top is a minor miracle.

His '95 debut on Blunt/TVf as frontman for the DJ Irv-produced group Cash Money Click (not to be confused with the New Orleans "millionaires") came in under the radar. When Gotti brought Ja over to Def Jam a year later, he appeared to be a priority behind DMX and Jay-Z, two larger-than-life MCs whom he had befriended while battle rapping in New York's early-'90s underground scene. When word of creating a Murder Inc. super-group (featuring DMX, Jigga and Ja) bubbled up following the trio's successful collabos "Murdergram" on 1998's Streets Is Watching soundtrack and "It's Murder" from Ja's Venni Vetti Vecci solo debut in 1999, Ja admits to being "low man on the totem pole." For Ja, the struggle to get out of Jay and X's shadows was a blessing in disguise. "It made me go leftfield like a muthafucka," he says. "I might have been making gangsta records all day, but I took a different direction. A lot of artists aren't chameleons like that."

Not everybody is happy about Rule's hook­singing rise to the top of the charts. DMX blindsided his road dog in July when he announced to MTV that he had recorded a dis entitled "Ruled Out" and accused Ja of style­biting, dick-riding and going Hollywood. DMX's newest round of attacks might come as a sur­prise to some, but they weren't his first. His 2000 single "Do You" was widely understood to be a veiled slap at Ja Rule, as was "We Don't Give a Fuck" from Flesh of My Flesh, Blood of My Blood. Incredibly, X had the co/ones to clown on these songs in spite of them being produced by Ja's ace, Irv Got.

At the mention of DMX, Ja becomes so heated that the barber turns off the clippers and steps back. "If he ever had a problem with me, as many times as I see the nigga, he could say it. We could've stepped to the side and discussed it, or whatever he like to do, as a man. And that's real talk," Rule blasts. "But all this faggot shit, running around behind my back, making songs, I'm not with that shit. But if he wanna get in the ring, nigga, I'll bite ya back. It's not a problem." (In response, Irv Gotti later said, "X has no validity in talking about Ja for whatever fuckin' reason.")

DMX responds: "The 'Do You' record was not about him. But that's his guilty con­science. [Ja Rule] used to be my hype man. That nigga don't talk like that. It's not his fuck­ing voice. I'm just tired of the dick-riding.... But there is a song now, 'Ruled Out."'

Ja stands up from the barber's chair freshly shorn and dips into a dressing room. Minutes later, he emerges bare-chested in a black skullcap, cargo pants, Chuck Taylors and gloves and instructs the makeup artist to paint "War" in red letters on his left pectoral, oppo­site the "Pain Is Love" tatt on the right. Under the heat of the bright lights on set, they began to drip as if they were carved into his sable skin. "Ja is Bishop right now, yo," Gotti cracks half-jokingly, in reference to Tupac's gripping role in Juice.

At Gottf's behest, Makaveli's The Don Killuminati LP is cued and plays on repeat for nearly the duration of the shoot. While Irv waves his arms like wings and refers to what he describes as spirits in the room, Ja stares in the mirror admiringly. "I'm tired of playing chess," Ja growls. "I'm ready to wipe off the whole board."

But wiping off the board won't be simple, especially with pieces like Roc-A-Fella and Aftermath in the game. As for the Murder relationship to Jay-Z, Ja complains not of betrayal, but of several snubs on the business side. Ja still has love for Jay, whose pen- and

paperless memorization style of song writing directly influenced Rule's own penchant for crafting hooks in his head. Nevertheless, Gotti and Ja took Jay's decision a couple of years ago to skip out on a full-length Ja/Jay/X LP as a slap in the face. Then, in April of this year, Hov pulled out of a Triple Threat Tour slated for June that would have included the Roc-A­Fella, Bad Boy and Murder Inc. families. Though Jay initially explained he hoped to record over the summer, he changed his mind and joined the Sprite Liquid Mix tour in August. For Ja and Gotti, the Sprite tour was the last straw.

Chilling with P. Diddy and discussing the missed opportunity, Ja two-wayed Jay to ask, "Why the backpack nlggas and not me, your nigga?" Ja found Hova's answer to be dis­turbing. "[Jay-Z] said, 'I'ma tell you this one time, 'cause I feel I fucked up, but don't ever ask me my personal business again,"' Ja recounts in amazement. "At first, I took offense to it, but then I thought about it, and he's right."

In the end, Ja and Gotti can only admire Jay-Z and Roc-A-Fella CEO Damon Dash's ruthless, Roc-first ethic. You know the saying, "If you can't beat'em, join 'em"? Well, Ja and Irv inverted it after that two-way conversation. Adopting an equally self-serving attitude that they hoped would catapult the Inc. to a place among Bad Boy and Death Row in the heights of hip-hop history, they brought forth a new piece to the center of the board: Jay­Z's rival, Nas.

Sitting in one of the four corners of Studio J, quietly scoping the scene, is Nas's brother Jungle, who Irv has invited to LA to "feel everything out." Irv likes to stay tuned into the street energy that the intense, silent Jungle throws off. "See Jungle?" says Irv. "He's 'hood, man. I know how to soak it up."

Taking a seat at his beloved board, Irv tweaks the controls and Nas's smoky baritone leaps into the mix. Keeping time organically, Gotti eagerly coerces Jungle and everyone else present to join him in an orgasmic neck roll as Nas's vocals describe III Will/Murder Inc. money-orgies, rappers facing off against "rap's Albert Anastasia" and "losing their whole gangsta," and other cryptic visions.

Breaking his silence to praise his sibling's trademark sagacity, Jungle explains who Albert Anastasia was, the founder of La Cosa Nostra's infamous band of Jewish assassins­for-hire-the real Murder Inc. from the 1930s. Apparently, the rumored III Will/Murder Inc. alliance is now official, but while Nas con­firmed his deal with the Murderers to several industry sources, he was reluctant to com­ment for this story. At press time, he released a statement that further confused the situa­tion: "I'm finishing up my new album, God's Son, which will be released Nov. 19 on Columbia Records. I've always had a great relationship on III Will/Columbia Records and look forward to making records with them for the rest of my career."

Still, his statement was contradicted by the mysterious leak of "The Pledge" to radio sta­tions nationwide in early August. "Nas on Murder Inc. is just like when Pac joined Death Row," says Jungle. "The fans need the full­fledged Nasty Nas, and I think Irv is gon' bring that out."

The win-win principle is a sacred one among business partners. For Nas, the Inc. offers the prospect of strength in numbers, a winning sound and a quantum leap in terms of mainstream exposure. For Gottl, Nas finally brings a fully developed all-star to a squad that has had to win with rookies, castoffs and free agents. It's a situation Irv has longed for since his plans for X, Ja and Jay fell through. "Everything I wanted to do with the niggas I came up with, I'm doing with Nas," Gottl pledges. "It bugs me out. I ain't never known Nas like that, but the first time I reached out to him, he answered, 'Let's do this.’

But before putting Nas into play, Gotti, the don, had to consult his capo, Ja Rule. Ja, in turn, reached out to his Murderer troops and canvassed opinions on the addition of the QB element to the equation. "I remember Ja say­ing, 'What do you think of Nas coming to Murder?'" says Charli Baltimore, who finally made the Murder Inc. team in 2002 after two years of proving to Irv that she was on more than just some modeling shit. "I was bug­gin'!" laughs Baltimore, who was an unabashed Nas fan prior to the news. "But anytime two artists can merge and make something bigger, I think that's hot."

To that Ashanti adds, "With the talent they both have, them showing each other a lot of love is crazy. Especially with all the hate in the industry."

With new faces in the family, priorities can sometimes shift, however. While Cadillac Tah says his project has been pushed back to early 2003, he has faith in Gotti's proven abil­ity to read the market. In Baltimore's case, her drafting had its consequences. According to Irv, after being told the Inc. was making her project a priority over Vita's debut, Vita's man­ager, Hype Williams, informed him that she wanted out. As a result, Nas's recruitment had to be done with minimal impact on team chemistry. Shortly after the Summer Jam inci­dent between Nas and Hot 97, (which was reported in our September issue), Ja, Irv, Nas and his former manager Steve Stoute met to discuss the alliance. During a final meeting at Ja Rule's home, Nas's daughter happily played with Ja's son as the two family men discussed issues like trust, respect, unity and what Irv considers the moral authority of their

mutual cause. "We ain't bullies at all," Gotti argues. "Anyone Nas and Ja rides on deserves to get ridden on."

Ja and Irv consider their Queensbridge­Hollis alliance to be smart business, however they don't view Eminem's signing of Ja's nemesis 50 Cent to Shady Records/ Aftermath in the same light. Gotti denies mak­ing calls to blackball 50 Cent ("I ain't thinking about you, dog," he smirks), but the news of the Shady/ Aftermath signing was not well­received by Murder Inc. "Suge just chased you the fuck up outta here, so what, you think I'm the sucka?" asks Ja in reference to Dre. "If you're gonna be authorizing [50 Cent] to spew records on me, then I wanna do what I gotta do to take your company under. And that goes for Dre, Em or whoever."

On one level, Rule feels that the issue is bigger than egos or settled scores. "I would love for everybody to get together and con­glomerate and own our own masters," says the forward-thinking Ja, whose spinoff label, Murder Inc. 2, is said to be distributing Nas's III Will imprint, presumably through Sony. "The rap game makes up the majority of the money in this industry, but a lot of niggas ain't worried about the long haul and controlling the game. Me and Gotti tried to put it together with X and Jay. No go. Nlggas that we just start getting involved with, like Nas and Suge, show us more love than niggas we supposed to be down with."

Suge Knight is home. His plane from Houston landed moments ago, and he's already hear­ing about a lot of controversial talk from Irv Gottl: whispers about Murder Inc. being hon­orary LA nlggas, about the Inc. aspiring to the status of Tha Row, and about Ja Rule's eerie resemblance to the late, great Tupac Shakur.

Guess what? Suge Knight doesn't have a problem with any of those statements. He thinks "The Pledge" is the best song Murder Inc. ever did. Ja Rule really does remind him of Pac, even though in the same breath Suge describes him as "his own man, a level­headed, talented youngster who could take it to a whole 'nother level." And Ja is Suge's "III' homie," he says, "for those who understand that word. I'll put it on the line [for Rule], no matter what."

Accordingly, the Inc.'s LA privileges are in good standing-simple as that. "They get love out here," Suge confirms. "I fuck with those niggas, and that says its all right there. Aln't no puzzle." Suge and Gotti bonded last year while negotiating sample clearance for Tupac's "Pain," which Ja covered as "So Much Pain" on his triple platinum Pain Is Love LP. Suge was initially skeptical, having seen

too many bottom-feeders leeching on Pac's legacy while he was locked up. Irv had his doubts as well, given Knight's fearsome rep as the West Coast's boogieman. Suge does­n't recall praising them for their lack of "armed security guards with the shit in their ear," as Irv has claimed. ("If you like somebody, you like 'em whether or not they have security," chuckles Suge.) Still, judging each other with fresh eyes, the two clicked immediately.

Gotti and Ja may be Queens niggas who "play the map," as Gotti is fond of saying, but their appropriation of LA gang traditions like wearing bandannas and making hand signs, their relationship to Suge, even their liberal use of the color red (the Inc.'s hall­ways are painted red) has all raised eyebrows. Annoyed, Gottl immediately cuts off the inquiry, "I'm tired of this question," he gripes. "Murder Inc. is not Bloods. Nor because I like the color red am I praising Bloods. I'm not out here riding with Suge in cars busting on niggas. I respect the gang code, and I ain't trying to cross it."

by The Soure Magazin