Nothing like a little sea moss in the system before the battle kicks off. Sixty-three-year-old Miss Sherry Elie, owner and organizer of the CRS (Cut it, Roll it, Smoke it) San Diego Rap Battle League, buys me a sea moss smoothie at Fuel Thy Cells on University Avenue as we wait for the competition to begin. There’s a reason why rappers love this shit: if you don’t know, sea moss stimulates thyroid function, gets rid of excess mucus, kills bad bacteria in the gut, and supports healthy blood pressure. All key health benefits for competitors preparing to step into the battle lights next door at the Lux Lounge, located within a La Mesa strip mall. Oh, and they love good weed, too.
We walk over to the Lounge with our sea moss smoothies in hand and Modelos stashed in Whittney Blue’s bag — but her nephew Finny keeps shotgunning the bottles and they go quick. Meanwhile, Dee, employed as the videographer for the night, is getting his cameras dialed in. Miss Sherry sits us inside the venue on commodious strawberry-colored bench seats close to where the organized oral assault is about to pop off. Fittingly, a UFC fight flickers on the TVs stationed around the lounge. The hookah at our table gets fired up simultaneously with the first battle of the evening.
The competition consists of two five-minute rounds, and host Badnewz Brown flips a coin to determine which rapper will kick things off. The unrestrained crowd surrounds the two rappers beneath a trio of bright spotlights. I see Dee behind the tripods with his camera, catching his angles. The first rapper starts to spit a few bars. I ponder whether it’s an advantage to go first or second. If you go first, you have the edge of striking the first blows, but if you go second, you can work with what the first rapper rhymes and spin something clever right back – like an elbow to the eye socket – which is exactly what happens during the opening battle.
With the final word, the second rapper secures the victory, barking “This verse is about to leave you torn like Drake and Wayne/I can’t complain/His bitch let me stick my fingers in her box like Raising Cane’s!” Boom, the crowd holds their fists to their gaping mouths and erupts with cries of “Oooooh” and “That’s fire!” Miss Sherry hops on the mic and announces a ten-minute outdoor smoke break. “You can smoke the hookah in here, but you gotta smoke the weed outside!”
In the parking lot, it looks like locomotive smoke is billowing from the bodies of fans, who are outfitted in ball caps, TruGrind gear, hoodies, and CRS T-shirts in Rastafarian colors. The rappers and the show-goers all mingle together, passing blunts and cracking jokes with each other. There’s no apparent bad blood. In Miss Sherry’s words, “It’s a community, a culture.” Moments later, I see a path being cleared as one of San Diego’s heaviest hitting rappers glides through a jam of people. “Here come Don Elway,” Dee says. He rolls up to us and embraces Dee. They’re already connected through their respective hustles. Dee describes Elway’s brand of hip-hop as the urban street voice of his city. Something for the grinders.
After a few more bouts and a couple more smoke breaks, I take a pull from Badnewz Brown’s bottle of Hennessy and scramble in for the main event. Squaring off on the checkered floor will be Chef Trez and Shi Dog, fans of whom have been elevated and energized by the outdoor puffing activities and the array of food being served at a table in the back. The munchie menu includes nachos, tostadas, Hot Cheetos, and even vegan options like chocolate and peanut butter cookies. (Miss Sherry offers up her 420 edibles as well, including my favorite, Trips Ahoy cookies.)
We sit back down next to Don Elway and another killer in the San Diego underground rap scene, Big June. Whittney Blue is ripping through her second order of nachos. Finny got too faded and walked home. Dee is working the camera from across the lounge. The heavyweights of the evening begin taking their swings. Shi Dog begins with some opening jabs, but Chef Trez answers back with some heavy blows to Dog’s ego and gets him punch drunk. Trez delivers the knockout blow after dropping dynamite bars like “It’s clearly level Shi/You didn’t catch the signs/My hours went back when I came here/So smoking you was something I knew I’d do ahead of time!” Boom, roasted.
Nothing like a little sea moss in the system before the battle kicks off. Sixty-three-year-old Miss Sherry Elie, owner and organizer of the CRS (Cut it, Roll it, Smoke it) San Diego Rap Battle League, buys me a sea moss smoothie at Fuel Thy Cells on University Avenue as we wait for the competition to begin. There’s a reason why rappers love this shit: if you don’t know, sea moss stimulates thyroid function, gets rid of excess mucus, kills bad bacteria in the gut, and supports healthy blood pressure. All key health benefits for competitors preparing to step into the battle lights next door at the Lux Lounge, located within a La Mesa strip mall. Oh, and they love good weed, too.
We walk over to the Lounge with our sea moss smoothies in hand and Modelos stashed in Whittney Blue’s bag — but her nephew Finny keeps shotgunning the bottles and they go quick. Meanwhile, Dee, employed as the videographer for the night, is getting his cameras dialed in. Miss Sherry sits us inside the venue on commodious strawberry-colored bench seats close to where the organized oral assault is about to pop off. Fittingly, a UFC fight flickers on the TVs stationed around the lounge. The hookah at our table gets fired up simultaneously with the first battle of the evening.
The competition consists of two five-minute rounds, and host Badnewz Brown flips a coin to determine which rapper will kick things off. The unrestrained crowd surrounds the two rappers beneath a trio of bright spotlights. I see Dee behind the tripods with his camera, catching his angles. The first rapper starts to spit a few bars. I ponder whether it’s an advantage to go first or second. If you go first, you have the edge of striking the first blows, but if you go second, you can work with what the first rapper rhymes and spin something clever right back – like an elbow to the eye socket – which is exactly what happens during the opening battle.
With the final word, the second rapper secures the victory, barking “This verse is about to leave you torn like Drake and Wayne/I can’t complain/His bitch let me stick my fingers in her box like Raising Cane’s!” Boom, the crowd holds their fists to their gaping mouths and erupts with cries of “Oooooh” and “That’s fire!” Miss Sherry hops on the mic and announces a ten-minute outdoor smoke break. “You can smoke the hookah in here, but you gotta smoke the weed outside!”
In the parking lot, it looks like locomotive smoke is billowing from the bodies of fans, who are outfitted in ball caps, TruGrind gear, hoodies, and CRS T-shirts in Rastafarian colors. The rappers and the show-goers all mingle together, passing blunts and cracking jokes with each other. There’s no apparent bad blood. In Miss Sherry’s words, “It’s a community, a culture.” Moments later, I see a path being cleared as one of San Diego’s heaviest hitting rappers glides through a jam of people. “Here come Don Elway,” Dee says. He rolls up to us and embraces Dee. They’re already connected through their respective hustles. Dee describes Elway’s brand of hip-hop as the urban street voice of his city. Something for the grinders.
After a few more bouts and a couple more smoke breaks, I take a pull from Badnewz Brown’s bottle of Hennessy and scramble in for the main event. Squaring off on the checkered floor will be Chef Trez and Shi Dog, fans of whom have been elevated and energized by the outdoor puffing activities and the array of food being served at a table in the back. The munchie menu includes nachos, tostadas, Hot Cheetos, and even vegan options like chocolate and peanut butter cookies. (Miss Sherry offers up her 420 edibles as well, including my favorite, Trips Ahoy cookies.)
We sit back down next to Don Elway and another killer in the San Diego underground rap scene, Big June. Whittney Blue is ripping through her second order of nachos. Finny got too faded and walked home. Dee is working the camera from across the lounge. The heavyweights of the evening begin taking their swings. Shi Dog begins with some opening jabs, but Chef Trez answers back with some heavy blows to Dog’s ego and gets him punch drunk. Trez delivers the knockout blow after dropping dynamite bars like “It’s clearly level Shi/You didn’t catch the signs/My hours went back when I came here/So smoking you was something I knew I’d do ahead of time!” Boom, roasted.
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