The Jay-Z that we now know â the one who makes shady and feeble NFL deals, the one who is essentially a house husband to Beyonceâs breadwinner, the one who looks like Basquiat if he had a 401K â pales in comparison to the Jay-Z that my older brother, older cousin, and I were obsessed with growing up. Shawn Carter was once a force of nature on the mic, and transformative as a rap star. No one knew much about his personal life that wasnât in the music, but they knew he came out with a crew of dogs ready to unleash at a momentâs notice. (This Diary of Jay-Z from MTV is a good example). He was adept at making you feel the snark and the bite in his music, lifestyle, and persona, but also being in control of his behavior and narrative. Thereâs never a time, except when he struggled with a Mannie Fresh beat, where Jay-Z isnât in control while he is rapping; itâs arresting to listen to him jab and swing with his flow and words without ever losing the rap pocket. For example, a song like âStreets Is Watchingâ, when he says âitâs like a full time job not to kill niggasâ, is so raw to me. He truly means that. He wishes he could smoke everyone. It is hard for him to keep control of himself when he wants to lash out. But he has to do it anyway because violence costs too much. For any Black kids in NYC, and especially ones who are outgoing and enjoy the limelight like me, who are trying to make it happen, listen to late 90âs Jay-Z. Itâll make you more focused, stronger (notice how Jay-Z is never focused on women, in fact he rejects them if they annoy him) â and more aware of the possible snakes around you.