“The calendar doesn’t actually end; the dead linger, the babies grow up. Just because we feel alienated from the world doesn’t mean we’re not of it.”
– Big Boi
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In the Dog Days of 1996, there was a parimutuel bet. A tricast of basically perfect hip hop releases; The Holy Trinity.
Nas It Was Written
Jay-Z Reasonable Doubt, and
Outkast ATLiens
In the mid-90s, Chicago records in Meadowview, Kankakee had various volumes of these bootleg compilation CDs for sale. They were simply entitled “Gangsta Rap”. I used to buy the volumes in order to hear rare rap songs that I don’t think I could have heard anywhere else at that time.
Before Napster, Limewire, and Spotify, the musical universe was forest primeval.
Memorable songs I discovered on these bootlegs were Tela “Sho Nuff”, Pyscho Drama “Do Watcha Wanna Do”, Crucial Conflict “Hay”, and Do or Die “Po Pimp”.
There was a Nas song on one volume called “If I Ruled the World (Imagine That)” and it featured Lauryn Hill of The Fugees (who I thought was the female lyricist from Psycho Drama at the time).
This was months before that song would become a radio jam or have any play on MTV. I actually had never heard of the now-canonized boom-bap-centric Illmatic. Since I hadn’t yet gathered the breadcrumbs, Nas was brand new to me.
The production of “If I Ruled the World” entailed a sprite flinging glittery piano notes on to a magical floating sheet music staff, landing treble clefs in some sort of sprinkling tuned up melody of keys that caught my ear in mellifluous sound.
It Was Written would drop July 2nd, 1996. I bumped it all summer long as I drove with my newly christened driver’s license. The most gangster move on Nas’s part was to sequence this radio hit as the final track of his album.
This monster of an engaging record is well documented amongst three others: Only Built 4 Cuban Links, Reasonable Doubt, and AZ’s Doe or Die as sparking the rise of the mafioso etude sub genre.
Influenced heavily by films like Goodfellas, Casino, Scarface, and The Godfather, it was an era where the movement of “keeping it real” was tossed out the moon roof of a speeding Benz. An era where African American gangsta rappers seemed to want to be Italian, Columbian, Cuban, and Panamanian. (1)
Hailing from Queensbridge Houses in Long Island City – the westernmost tip of Queens, just across the East River from Manhattan, Nas manufactured his complex rhyme schemes. They not only cascade but they tell stories in timbre and texture.
It Was Written shifted from the rawness of Illmatic which I would backtrack for. The more polished production with cinematic tones ushered me to proclaim this sophomore release as the superior of the two. This is judged as heresy by other fans, but I simply cannot care.
Nas Escobar grew up noting every beatdown and jack move, presenting them in ill-fated obsession, documenting the outcomes. The consequences.
Trackmasters produced half of the record but oversaw the entire process, yanking Esco into their realm of glitz combined with grime. Some called Nas a sellout for moving away from his past musical craft. I call it evolution, wading into greater waters of synth textures.
And now the projects is talkin’ that “somebody gotta die” shit –
It’s logic, as long as it’s nobody that’s in my click
“The Message” starts with an instrumental mandoline with rhythmic duration, spinning ingeniously throughout the entire track.
It makes you lament the time your Sicilian girlfriend, Apolonia, was blown up in that car. A tribute to the Queensbridge Militia in an intricate tale of life and feuds from the largest housing project in the country.
His line “there can only be one king” is a direct quote from Pablo Escobar. It was widely perceived as a jab at The Notorious B.I.G. since he was declared by the Source in 1995 as the King of New York City. That, plus Ghostface’s diatribe on Only Built 4 Cuban Links where he derides Biggie for biting Nas’s Illmatic album cover.
Raekwon featured Nas on that album for the song “Verbal Intercourse”. The first non-Wu cameo on any Wu album.
Throwin’ slugs? We throwin’ em back
“I Gave You Power” set in to me as a sixteen-year-old proving a cycle of thought as Nas would narrate the entire story from the vantage point of a handgun in spellbinding pathos. He even calls back to Illmatic with a tec on a dresser.
A tec that’s been crying because it ain’t been cleaned in a year. A tec that Jay-Z showed him in real life when they were both coming up.
Notations in syncopation from Havoc of Mobb Deep, and AZ lend additional street credits, to back the record in a surplus of tokens in a gritty arcade. It wouldn’t scream 1996 without a Jodeci cameo.
There is however one misstep on It Was written.
One skip: “Nas is Coming”.
It was supposed to be the glorified wedding of East Coast and West Coast in a Dr. Dre creation. The beginning dialogue is cheesed out with Dre supposedly smoking some chronic but he’s clearly just sucking on nothing just to make a goofy sound effect into a mic.
I’ll go as far as to say that this track would have been perfectly fine if they had made a hook and some sort of G Funk melody line. It’s just that lady singing “Nasty Nas is coming” repeatedly ad nauseum with no real vibe.
I guess this was the first thing Dre released after leaving Death Row, and he was basically hurried with cues of urgency. I’m telling you – if you rush the Doctor, occasionally, he will misdiagnose.
One good thing is that the collab song turned into an allied power posse called The Firm which would incorporate Dr. Dre’s production, Nas, Foxy Brown, AZ, and Cormega (before being replaced by Nature). The Firm may have “flopped”, but I think that record is decent overall.
“Affirmative Action” is the first track by The Firm outfit, and it is my personal favorite song on It Was Written. Foxy Brown with tonal syllables in a business calculus lesson. Stolen catalytic converter sales converted to Cadillac convertibles. Drug sale revenue with a bottom-line equaling Moët Chandon and Armani attire over a plucking mandolin.
Cormega shines through on some genre film gangsta knowledge, before he gets himself booted out of The Firm.
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Jay-Z’s Reasonable Doubt would be released a few weeks prior to It Was Written, on June 25, 1996, though I wouldn’t purchase it until later that summer. The song “Ain’t no N***a” was released on the Nutty Professor Soundtrack (for some reason) in early June.
That straight up funktified bassline and minimalist drum tracking would set me up with intrigue when I bought it from Replay, the used CD store next to Kroger.
Foxy Brown notably appearing on both Nas and Jay-Z’s albums had such an unmistakable flow, though lyrically awkward now that I know she was only seventeen at the time.
The track itself on the soundtrack release is clearly unmastered and comes with an overriding hiss from the tape machine.
The Reasonable Doubt album release came stylized with an umlaut over the Y in “Jay-Z” which makes no real sense other than if his name was pronounced “Jah-ee Zee”.
I’ve noticed at the thirty-year mark now in 2026 that the umlaut has returned over the “Y” on all his Spotify titles.
The album artwork is all an achromatic, stark greyscale black and white. Jay in a mob-era-esque brimmed fedora with a cigar. Originally the CD disc had a radial tilt shifted photo of a small chrome 22 caliber pistol, which was removed from future pressings because they used the photo without photographer’s permission.
Other than the umlaut, the album is flawless. If It Was Written is a 9.966, Reasonable Doubt is a straight 10-shot.
Regardless, what a heavy hitting year for hip hop when you figure in this trifecta with ATLiens, and then add Ghostface Killah’s Ironman, Fugees’ The Score, as well as 2Pac’s All Eyez on Me.
AND Makaveli – The Don Killuminati: The Seven Day Theory.
The second-best song on Reasonable Doubt is “Friend or Foe”. Comprised of one completely condescending verse, less than two-minutes long. As a loanshark top brass, Jay-Z just arrogantly trashes some fictional mafia-wannabe bookmaker who tries to stop him from collecting his funds.
It’s awesome. The purity just cuts the cream, and this brief track is distilled in representation of the entire sub genre of mafioso gangsta rap.
Ya twitchin’, don’t… do that. Ya makin’ me nervous
My crew? Well, they do pack. Them dudes is murderous
The first-best song on Reasonable Doubt is “Brooklyn’s Finest” featuring the complete virtuoso, The Notorious B.I.G.
This would have been the peak of the East Coast versus West Coast feud. The track represents Marcy Projects to the edge of Bed-Stuy. Pure Brooklyn. Pure New York City crack dealer shit.
2Pac, in his eyes, believed Jay-Z was supporting The Notorious B.I.G in the turmoil of the beef that was sparked when Pac was shot five times in Quad Studio NYC on his way up to see Puff Daddy and Biggie.
2Pac thought Quad Studio assault was set up by Bad Boy executive associate Haitian Jack. 2Pac thought Puff and Big were both complacent, and at the very least knew about it ahead of time. The wicked flee when no man followeth.
“If Faith had twins, she’d probably have two Pacs. Get it, 2… Pac’s?”
In my estimation “Brooklyn’s Finest” was the only time Biggie ever used 2Pacs name in a song, and it was clearly pushing humor to the effect that 2Pac claimed “I had sex with your wife, uh, not in those words…”
This was just three weeks after “Hit ‘em Up” was released in 1996. I’m not so sure if there had even been time for Biggie to record that line and Rock-a-Fella to have the full album produced and released in stores by the time “Hit ‘em Up” dropped.
By the time Biggie had actually heard “Hit ‘em Up” I’m sure he had already recorded that verse on Reasonable Doubt multiple months beforehand. The rumor of 2Pac sleeping with Faith Evans was out there already and Biggie was referencing that rumor and frankly just poking fun at himself.
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I’m out for dead presidents to represent me
Production by an array of upcomers as well as the revered DJ Premier. Melodic motifs sampled in minor keys to portray solemnity. A feature by a young Memphis Bleek, which was originally offered to Shahiem aka, the Rugged Child (for your conversation starter napsack).
Jay-Z not only spoke about the hustle on this record, but he had the vulnerability to display how hustling can deteriorate the inner peace and stable mindset of a man. He has been quoted as saying the studio was like a psychiatrist’s couch for him during this era.
Hustling out of a sense of desperation, instead of taking a contract with an existing label, Jay-Z started Rock-a-Fella Records with Damon Dash. They leased a tiny office space on John Street and ended it in Manhattan on some Jonny-come-lately shit. When I look back, this is truly a self-made pathos as this guy is now a billionaire.
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Asking where we from? South Post Slums
Just two dope boyz in a Cadillac
The third player in this exotic wager in trifecta is ATLiens by Outkast. Big Boi and Andre 3000’s second album to solidify this Holy Trinity of the summer of 1996. Released August 27th, this was one album I picked up around the beginning of junior year of high school.
I first got the CD single for “Elevators” at Northfield Square mall right before running into my mom by accident, who quickly took the disc from away from me – right then and there at the mall.
Since I had already been restricted from buying secular music due to church culture fear, my mom seeing me purchase it then became an additional trust issue, I suppose. (2)
Anyway, I’m pretty sure I just went and bought “Elevators” again the next day, if not, during that same mall visit.
The full album was like nothing else out there at the time. With an overarching comic book theme, and hints at outer space alien life, this record was about as far from mafia-wannabe hip hop as I could get.
It was produced by Organized Noize, the same duo who produced Goodie Mob as well as Outkast’s debut album. They got on board with the alien thematics and extra-terrestrial soundscapes with little Martian blips and synthesized effects to replicate UFOs and other paranormal sounds.
From what I’ve read there are no samples on this album.
Lyrically this was emeralds and sapphires falling to the concrete, gathered up and fashioned together. An album crafted like a Swiss watch.
Thematically, the idea was to represent the notion that Outkast were outsiders of the era based on 1990s rap fan obsessions with East Coast and West Coast emcees. Coming from Atlanta, they felt as though they were truly alienated.
They were boo’d at the 1995 Source Award because they won best new rap group and they were not from either coast. I mean that shit is… fuckin radickaliss **in RZA voice**.
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We done come a long way, like them slim ass cigarettes, from Virginia
This ain’t gon stop so we just gon continya
Spacey reverb and laid-back southern drawl mash a mix of originality. Form and fermata with intervals of inversion.
I’d argue that nothing else really sounds like this inventive document. Especially from this era. Cee Lo from Goodie Mob makes an appearance on “Wailin’”, and just like every other Outkast CD there is artwork of a nude female on the disc.
In this particular case, she’s being bathed in some sort of green slime like an adult version of You Can’t Do That on Television.
On the bus from my high school to Career Center I remember seeing this preppy guy Greg Wagner listening to ATLiens on his discman. I can’t fully put my finger on it, but I remember this symbolizing something for me.
It wasn’t that rap was not popular. It was more that Outkast was considered still pretty underground. For my first two years at Manteno High School, I was mostly the only dude in the white bread burb listening to hip hop. Well, me and Jamiel, the only kid in all of Manteno who wasn’t white.
Perhaps I considered my insular world of rap, all peaches and cream. Did I come to find myself face down in the mainstream?
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Thirty years have gone by, man. I’m sitting here back in the heat of a Chicago July, 2026, finishing this up while I puff on a Partagas Black Label jamming “Wheelz of Steel”. I’m sipping a Coke Zero due to the years that have been unkind in terms of belly fat from drinking too much beer over decades past.
I still own all three of these CDs and I’ve repurchased them all on vinyl, because, you know… what else am I supposed to spend my money on?
I’ve followed all three of these acts into oblivion and I’ve heard all of their albums to date. None of them compare to these three that were released in succession as the triple uncut gems of 1996. (3)
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BEL Footnotes:
(1) There was a whole sect of 2Pac’s crew that named themselves phonetically after domineering, vicious world leaders like Sadam Hussain, Idi Amin, Muammar Guddafi, Fidel Castro, and Benito Mussolini. Sort of thoughtless in my opinion, you know, given all the atrocities. Plus, it seems like a missed opportunity to not have someone named “Kim Jong ILL”.
There was the odd pairing of Capone ‘n Noreaga – with Al Capone being the Italian American bootlegger paired with the Panamanian politician and military officer Manuel Noriega.
Jay-Z gave himself the nickname of Hov, derived from Jesus. “The god emcee”. Which is way too much of a stretch –
Jehova / Jay-hova / Hova / Hov / and to a lesser extent, Hovito. It’s like come on, man. Really stupid. Probably even more stupid than having an umlaut over the letter Y for literally no reason.
(2) Look, I have a lot of psychological trauma from church. I have a full treatise written about this if anyone is interested.
(3) Maybe The Blueprint (2001). I could make a case for that album, but I’d be apologizing quite a bit.
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Reclaimed Timbre: 013 – Synopsizer Record Review SubSeries
