Benny Jay: 99 Problems

It’s Monday night bowling and Young Ralph’s taken over the jukebox, paying for forty-something songs and tying up that machine for at least two hours.

He’s got a nice spread too. Hendrix, Michael Jackson and Santana — for the old timers, like me `n Cap — and lots of  rap for the younger guys, like him, J-Dub and Norm.

To me, the rap’s just noise. Then one clicks in — just grabs me by the throat: “If you havin’ girl problems I feel bad for you, son, I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain’t one – hit me….”

I know, I know, we shouldn’t call a woman a bitch, but I can tell from the lyrics I can’t quite hear that something special’s going on with this song. I particularly like the “hit-me” part.

“Who’s that?” I ask.

“Jiggah,” says Norm.

“Who?”

“Jay-Z,” says Young Ralph.

“Oh – I’ve heard of him before….”

J-Dub, Norm and Young Ralph are rapping along: “The year is ninety-four, in my trunk is raw, in my rear view is the mutha-fuckin’ law….”

“How do you know all the words?” I ask them.

They ignore me and keep rapping: “Child, I ain’t passed the bar, but I know a little bit, enough that you won’t illegally search my shit….”

Then they hit the chorus: “I got 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one – hit me….”

On the way home, the refrain keeps playing in my mind. I go to my room and head for the computer – it’s based on a song by Ice-T from way back when. That one goes: “I got a ho from the east, got a ho from the west, got a ho that likes to jack me off and rub it in my….”

Well, you can figure out the rest of the rhyme.  Call me Old School, but it’s just a little too raw for me.

I go back to Jay-Z’s version. As far as I can tell, he takes Ice-T’s silly song about being a stud and makes it political. I watch a video of him singing it at an inauguration party for Obama staffers. He goes: “Got 99 problems, but a Bush ain’t one – hit me….”

Now I’m all into it – got my curiosity working overtime. Start reading about Jay-Z. A regular rags-to-riches superstar. Born in Brooklyn. Raised in the projects. Sold thirty-something million records. Raked in hundreds of millions of dollars. Owns a fashion line, a record company, part of a NBA basketball team. Married to Beyonce. How do I not know this stuff?  Got three-years probation a few years back for stabbing a record promoter at a hip-hop party at a Time Square night club called the Kit-Kat. Hired a lawyer named Murray Richman to get him out of that one.

Okay, all you hip-hop know-it-alls out there wondering how one man can be so ignorant — bet you didn’t know about Murray Richman.  I go to his website and read: “Murray Richman, otherwise known as `don’t worry’ Murray, is a 62-year-old criminal defense lawyer who’s spent the last four decades keeping some of the most besieged New Yorkers out of the joint….Murray made his name defending the members of New York’s’ criminal establishment, the soldiers and bosses of the Lucchese and Gambino crime families.”

Dang, he must be a good lawyer if he’s got his own nickname. I see why Jay-Z hired him. Hell, if I were charged with knifing a guy at the Kit Kat club in New York City, my first telephone call would be to Murray “Don’t Worry” Richman….

By now it’s close to midnight and I still have the dog to walk (and I wonder why I get no sleep). I fight off the urge to read more about Murray, grab the leash and head for the door.

It’s a nice night – quiet, almost peaceful. The only sound’s the swooshing of cars passing on the rain-drenched streets.

I got 99 Problems playing in my mind. Surprised I never heard it before. I’d have remembered it, too — it’s so catchy and all. How could I have missed it? The computer said it came out in 2004. What was I was listening to back then? Probably the oldies stations — same crap I listen to now. Man, I live in a cave. That’s my problem – well, that and 98 other things. My kids are right – musically speaking, I got to get out more.

Honk!

I look up

“Benny….”

It’s Norm — with J-Dub riding shotgun — heading home from bowling.

“Walkin’ the dog,” Norm yells.

They snap me back from the brainwave I’d been riding. Before I can say anything other than – “yeah” – they’re off.

Man, I was deep in those thoughts – hadn’t talked to anyone since I left the alley. I turn the corner and pick up where I left off: “If you havin’ girl problems, I feel bad for you, son, I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain’t one….”