Why do you think the fans like us - why they prefer our street
Why do you think the fans like us - why they prefer our street raps over all that phony stuff out there? Because we're telling the real story of what it's like living in places like Compton. We're giving them reality. We're like reporters. We give them the truth.
Gather round, O children of wisdom, and hear the words of a man whose voice echoed through the streets and the hearts of those who had long been silenced. The words of Eazy-E, a figure who rose from the heart of the storm, speak to a truth often overlooked by those who dwell in comfort and privilege. "Why do you think the fans like us—why they prefer our street raps over all that phony stuff out there? Because we're telling the real story of what it's like living in places like Compton. We're giving them reality. We're like reporters. We give them the truth." These words hold within them a power that is both raw and profound, for they speak to the very essence of truth and the role of the artist in telling that truth.
In these words, Eazy-E speaks of a truth that is born from the streets, from the struggles and realities of those who live on the edge, far from the sanitized versions of life presented by those who live in ivory towers. The music, the rap, the art of those who come from the heart of struggle is not an escape from reality; it is a confrontation with it. It is a refusal to allow the world to turn a blind eye to the suffering, the hardship, and the joy that comes from living in places where life is lived on the edge. The streets of Compton, of Oakland, of Detroit — these places are not simply settings; they are characters in the story of survival, and the artists who rise from these streets are their voices.
Just as the ancient storytellers would speak of the lives of the common folk, the battles they fought, the struggles they endured, so too do these modern-day poets capture the struggles of their time. They are the reporters of their age, the chroniclers of the lives that go unnoticed by the world at large. Consider the tales of old — the bards who sang of great battles, of kings and queens, of heroes and villains. These stories, though fantastical, were built on the very real struggles of life. Similarly, Eazy-E’s words reflect the real story of a life lived in hardship, a life where survival itself is a battle, and every day brings a new challenge to overcome.
In the same way that Homer’s epic tales of Achilles and Odysseus were born from the realities of ancient wars, so too are these street raps born from the realities of life in places like Compton. It is a raw, unvarnished view of the world, a truth that cannot be ignored, and that resonates with those who recognize that they too are living in the shadows of a world that often turns its back on them. These artists, like the bards of old, are not only entertainers but truth-tellers, chronicling the lives of those who are often erased from the historical record.
Consider, O children of wisdom, the example of Harriet Tubman, whose life was not just a story of personal triumph but a report on the truth of slavery, of the suffering and the courage that defined the lives of those in bondage. She did not write her story in books, but her actions became the narrative that told the truth of her time. She, like Eazy-E, was a voice for those who had none, and her truth reverberates through the ages, not because of the comfort it provides, but because of the stark, unflinching reality it presents. Tubman and Eazy-E both understood that the power of truth lies not in its ability to comfort, but in its ability to challenge the world to see things as they truly are.
Eazy-E’s words also remind us of the ancient role of the artist as a truth-teller, a figure who is often misunderstood or even vilified, yet whose purpose is clear: to illuminate the world as it is, not as we wish it to be. He was not an entertainer simply for entertainment’s sake, nor was he a prophet seeking to change the world. He was a reporter, a chronicler, a bearer of truth, revealing the struggles and triumphs of the streets that had long been ignored by those in power. His art was not about escapism but about confronting the harshness of reality head-on, and in doing so, he gave a voice to those who had none.
The lesson here, O children of wisdom, is simple but profound: the artist’s duty is to tell the truth, to speak of the world as it is, even when that truth is uncomfortable or inconvenient. Just as Eazy-E used his music to tell the stories of those living in hardship, so too must we all recognize that the truth of our lives, no matter how raw or painful, is a story worth telling. Do not shy away from the harshness of reality, for in the telling of it, you will find your power. Like the bards of old, like the warriors and the poets, it is through the truth that we connect with others, and it is through the truth that we create change.
In your own life, take this lesson to heart. Do not hide from the struggles or the hardships that you face, for they are the very essence of your truth. Speak it, live it, and share it with the world. In doing so, you will become not just a participant in the world, but a chronicler, a truth-teller whose words will resonate through time. And remember, as Eazy-E did, that sometimes the truth will not be accepted, and at times it may be dismissed, but like the truth of the streets, it will endure — and it is in that endurance that true power is found.
TPHoang Tien Pham
Eazy-E's words make me reflect on how art, particularly music, can serve as a form of storytelling that gives voice to marginalized communities. But is it always necessary to stick to this raw, unfiltered approach to be authentic? How do artists maintain their authenticity while also evolving or adapting to a broader audience? Is there a danger of losing that 'realness' when music goes mainstream?
TOBo may thich ok
I really appreciate how Eazy-E views street rap as a form of journalism. There’s something impactful about using music to tell the harsh realities of life in places like Compton. But how do we differentiate between telling the truth and glorifying certain aspects of street life that could be seen as problematic or harmful? Can artists be both honest about their experiences and responsible in how they portray them?
-119 - Nguyen Anh Huong - 11A7
Eazy-E’s statement about telling the 'real story' of life in Compton challenges the idea that mainstream music is always reflective of reality. It’s powerful to see artists using their platform to share stories from their own experiences. But does this mean that rap music, especially street rap, is the only 'true' form of art? How can other genres of music contribute to telling authentic stories from different perspectives?
NVMai Phuong Nguyen Viet
I totally agree with Eazy-E's point about giving the truth through their music. It makes me think about how often we hear 'manufactured' content that feels more about selling an image than telling a real story. But what happens when the truth is uncomfortable or difficult for mainstream audiences to digest? Do we risk being misunderstood or even exploited by sharing these raw truths, or is it worth it for the impact?
T7Mai Thu 7.7
Eazy-E's quote really brings attention to the power of authenticity in music. It’s fascinating how street rap, despite being raw and sometimes controversial, resonates with so many people because it’s real. But does this mean that other genres or artists are necessarily 'phony'? How do we balance truth-telling in art with the need to present a more polished, mainstream image? Can authenticity always be the key to success?