New Music: 50 Cent

It's hard to name a prominent rapper who has not had beef with 50 Cent. The Queens, N.Y. native may have made another enemy last week when he accused his protégé The Game of being disloyal and expelled him from the G-Unit posse during a live radio interview on Hot 97 in New York. Apparently Game wanted to perform with Nas, who drew 50’s ire for collaborating with his arch nemesis, Ja Rule.

The interview ended abruptly when, after shots were fired in front of the studio, 50’s entourage quickly escorted him out of the building through a side door. An associate of The Game suffered a non-fatal gunshot wound. 50, who took nine bullets in 2000, avoided injury. Now the rappers have called for a truce. Oh, the drama!

In other (less interesting) news, 50 recently dropped his highly-anticipated and widely-bootlegged sophomore album, The Massacre. It is the follow-up to 2003’s number one album Get Rich Or Die Tryin’, which sold 11 million copies worldwide. Despite the impressive team of producers (Dr. Dre, Eminem, Scott Storch) and guest artists (Jamie Foxx, Olivia) that 50 assembled for his latest project, The Massacre is a dark and painfully monotonous collection of thumping beats accentuated by delicate orchestral flourishes.

This LP is essentially a carbon-copy of Get Rich Or Die Tryin’. There’s the party song “Disco Inferno” (“In Da Club”), the beef song “Piggy Bank” (“Wanksta”), the shoot-’em-up song “Gunz Come Out” (“Heat”), and the sex song “Candy Shop” (“P.I.M.P.”). Even the album cover, which shows a shirtless 50 with gleaming muscles and a diamond-encrusted cross around his neck, looks just like the Get Rich Or Die Tryin’ cover. But who can really blame 50 for sticking to the formula that helped him move nearly 1 million units of Get Rich Or Die Tryin’ in the first week and propelled him to superstardom?

On “Piggy Bank,” a gritty diss track with a sing-song hook, 50 flaunts his success: “Clickety clank, clickety clank, the money goes into my piggy bank.” After disparaging Fat Joe (“My shit sold 11 mil/His shit was a dud”) and Jadakiss (“Jada, don’t fuck wit me, if you wanna eat/’Cuz I’ll do yo little ass like Jay did Mobb Deep”), he challenges his enemies to “do something,” adding, “I know you ain’t gonna just let 50 do you like that.”

The beef stuff gets really old really fast, and thankfully, toward the middle of the album comes “A Baltimore Love Thing,” a creative and haunting track in which 50 personifies heroin and purrs to a female addict, “When we first met, I thought you’d never doubt me/ Now you tryin’ to leave me, you’ll never live without me.”

Admittedly, 50 is not the most gifted lyricist in the game. His imperfections are evident when he raps opposite Eminem on “GATman and Robbin,” a thug interpretation of the classic Batman television show theme. But no one can deny that 50 is one of the most exciting hip hop personalities. The reckless bravado that he displays on The Massacre is both comical and troubling. Although he has said in interviews that he is not afraid of death, he shows little respect for his life on songs like “Piggy Bank” and “Ski Mask Way.” 50 is playing with fire, and if he’s not careful he’s going to get smoked.

In an interview last week on Boston’s JAM’N 94.5 (WJMN-FM), 50 explained why no one can find him “in da club” these days. “Look,” he said, “I don’t go out a lot ’cuz I have a lot of energy around me right now. I cause things.” That’s an understatement. As the interview came to a close, he said ominously, “All good things have to come to an end.” Tupac. Biggie. Will 50 Cent be mourned next? And is that exactly what he wants?

—Staff writer Andrew C. Esensten can be reached at esenst@fas.harvard.edu.