![]() The Buckwild production “Me and My Microphone” is a true gem, featuring an exuberant Q-Tip on the hook as A+ cleverly likens a mic to a beloved girlfriend. What can’t be debated, however, is the fact that A+ can seriously spit, and he possesses a delivery, breath control, and vocal presence that many seasoned MCs would kill for. In order to make him marketable to a wide audience, his verses are definitely doctored and refined with clean closers and cadences, which can probably be said of the majority of major label artists. This should by no means cast A+ as a fraud it’s hard to imagine that anyone his age could truly possess the wisdom or experience requisite for a literate mid-90s New York street record, and if ghostwriting is really as prevalent as some purport, it doesn’t place him on a different plane than most of his elders. While I have no information to confirm my suspicions, I’d suggest that what’s more likely is A+ had a crew of veteran ghostwriters helping him with his fledgling craft. “The Latch-Key Child” is an album of such rare introspection and comprehensive narratives that it would be impressive from a man of any age that it came from a fourteen-year-old is borderline unbelievable. If A+ did in fact construct the impeccably-penned, profoundly reflective lyrics and artful rhyme schemes of “The Latch-Key Child,” he was one of hip hop’s greatest unsung prodigies. This, of course, provides a convenient lead-in to the elephant in A+’s room. In addition to the heavy contemplation and poignantly crafted profiles chronicled through his three verses, he sports a fairly complex rhyme scheme. It’s a stunning opener, and it makes a clear statement that A+ is no ordinary tween or even one of the “stick-up kids” his contemporaries Illegal claimed to be rather, it places him as an heir apparent to the wide-eyed street poets of Queens and Brooklyn. “Move On” is a song of the content and quality that countless rappers have aspired to—a deep, stirring rumination on death. I blame it on the fools in the street that’s always blastin'” He never listened, and now my man is missin’ in action I used to tell him stop playin’ with that chrome-piece steel I can’t explain it, it’s ill how we used to feel I guess it came from all the stories that he heard in the street ![]() Now he stressed, fiendin’ just to hold some heat Where his pops kept a Glock and all the safety deposits ![]() He used to talk about the box in the closet Not a creature was stirrin’, not a roach or a mouseĪnd buggin’ on the horn with some honeys like a couple of playasĪnd now he’s gone, I’m speakin’ on my man Kayshawnįorever on my mind mentally as I kick my song The shot was fatal, he died right there up on the kitchen tableīlaow, it happened all alone in his house “He was only thirteen when he burst his spleen production “Move On,” with a spooky Isley Brothers sample and insight miles beyond his years: “The Latch-Key Child” draws mostly from the early work of Mobb Deep and his other slightly older neighbors from the nearby boroughs, and it’s a surprisingly gritty listen even given a few concessions made to cater to a young audience. A Hempstead native, he was a green fourteen years old when his debut “The Latch-Key Child” saw light through Kedar Massenburg’s first label venture. Some among their predecessors, such as Da Youngsta’s, Shyheim, and Illegal, were marketed at a hardcore hip hop base, and widespread success proved elusive—after all, why turn to a mere kid for ruminations on street life when one could just as easily listen to Nas and Scarface wax poetic?Ī+ (not to be confused with A-Plus of Souls of Mischief fame) came from the same wave of East Coast teen rappers in the mid-90s mentored by established MCs. If one looks back at some of the ’90s’ teen rap acts, however, manufactured stars such as Lil’ Bow Wow and Lil’ Romeo might in fact appear the products of years’ worth of trial and error. Teenage rappers are a phenomenon almost as old as hip hop itself, and the most lucrative were those marketed to a teeny-boppers’ audience.
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