Story and images by Amir Shaw
B ernard “Bun B” Freeman often adorns himself with emblems denoting royalty. As he walks into a plush hotel located a few miles south of Atlanta, it’s hard to miss the large diamond bracelet that is wrapped around his right wrist and the gleaming watch that covers his left. A diamond-encrusted pendant, which spells Bun B, is attached to a two-tone solid Franco chain that dangles from his neck. There is a good chance that the jewelry he’s wearing is worth more than a few houses within the city limits of his hometown, Port Arthur, Texas.
However, there is more to this ruler of Southern hip-hop classics than the treasures that complement his sleek urban attire. Bun B’s eyes are glassy and show signs of fatigue. It’s a toss-up whether his weary eyes are indicative of the toll exacted by a 30-day concert tour or uncertainty about his future as the underground king. Indeed, heavy is the head who dares to wear the crown alone.
Bun B realizes that his life and hip-hop will never be the same. Five months have passed since his partner-in-rhyme, Chad “Pimp C” Butler, was found dead in a Los Angeles hotel. Butler’s unexpected death occurred days before UGK became first time Grammy Award nominees for their single “International Players.” The nomination was a bittersweet victory for the duo that earned a majority of their sales in the southeastern region, but was unfairly overlooked nationwide. “We both wanted Southern musicians to be respected and loved,” Bun B says. “[Pimp] C was always passionate about being a strong voice for the South as far as hip-hop was concerned. Very few people are willing to put themselves on the line for the world to see. That’s what we’re missing from Pimp C. He wasn’t right all of the time, but he stood up for what he believed in.”
UGK’s ardent endorsement of Southern hip-hop in the 1990s paved the way for prominent artists such as OutKast, Lil Wayne and T.I. And it eventually spawned a Houston movement that featured the likes of the Screwed Up Click, Chamillionaire, Paul Wall and Slim Thug. “People are finally getting a chance to see what Texas has to offer,” Bun B emotes. “You can turn on your TV or go on the Internet to see a slab*. Now you have major labels chopping and screwing their records. The way we live in Texas has become more accessible to other communities. There are people who have never been to Texas, but they know how we live based on the information given.”
Recreational drug use is tainting Houston’s vibrant hip-hop culture and bordering on becoming an epidemic. Several notable Houston rappers have produced songs that promote the use of codeine (an opiate) and promethazine (an antihistamine) as a means to get high. Known as “purple drank” and “lean,” the concoction produces a euphoric high that causes the users to become relaxed and sluggish.
“Codeine is normally used when a person has congestion with a bad cough, and promethazine is anti-nausea medicine that helps with allergy symptoms,” says Basil Abdur-Rahman, an Atlanta-based pharmacist. “But most people who abuse the drugs are taking 10 to 15 times the normal dose. The common side effects are constipation, blurry vision, hallucination, weight gain, slow heart rate, depression, and it can make it difficult for you to urinate. The thing about narcotics is that once you begin taking them, you develop a tolerance so you’re likely going to want to increase your high. And while you’re increasing your high, you do damage to your body that can have long-term effects or lead to death.”
Purple drank has been linked to the deaths of notable Houston hip-hop figures, Robert “DJ Screw” Davis and Kenneth “Big Moe” Moore. Capt. Ed Winter of the Los Angeles Coroner’s office also concluded that Pimp C died from sleep apnea and an overdose of codeine and promethazine.
Apparently, the trend has reached beyond the Texas state lines. According to a study done by the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration, over 3.1 million people from the ages of 12 to 25 have used cough and cold medicines to get high.
“It was never anyone’s intention to get people to try it [purple drank],” Bun B admits. “Syrup was a localized thing that a lot of people didn’t know about unless they lived in Texas, Philly, or Oakland, [Calif.]. There are people in those cities that sip drank and they don’t listen to rap. At the same time, it’s a drug that has very serious aftereffects and a lot of people who are using it are unaware of what it is doing to them. But for anyone who is still sipping syrup, they might want to take a long look at themselves.”
As Houston’s hip-hop community struggles to rid itself of the detrimental abuse of purple drank, Bun B is at a point where he must firmly assess his rap career and what will become of UGK.
“UGK is important to every rapper who ever picked up a mic in the South,” says Houston-based rapper Mike Jones. “It was more than the music with UGK. They let us know that we could be successful in rap without help from the major labels. We don’t have to depend on anyone to help us get our music where we need it to be. They gave us game, and I don’t see any reason why the UGK legacy won’t continue.”
So with a determined outlook, Bun B begins a new journey as the sole torch bearer for UGK. His second solo album, II Trill, delivers the “country rap tunes” that defined the vintage UGK sound. It also goes beyond clichéd rhymes about material possessions and indulging in the drug culture.
“II Trill is a very real album,” Bun B says. “I’m speaking on a lot of things that should be talked about more. This album is about addressing issues of living in the ‘hood and doing right by your family and God. A lot of souls are in trouble and I want to give people more than what they are used to getting from a rap album.”
Although Bun B witnessed firsthand how many of his peers were destroyed by making bad decisions, he is more disturbed by what it is now occurring with misguided youth who are falling into a life of crime.
“The things that I see with youngsters who are 11 and 13 years old is not what life should be about,” he explains. “They’re selling drugs, carrying pistols and walking around with flags in their pockets. They’re being thrown into the streets without getting a chance to see anything else. And that’s because they don’t have anything for these kids to do. Sometimes kids just want to let people know what’s on their mind. It’s important that they get the answers because, unfortunately, they’re making life decisions based on what they hear from rappers. It shouldn’t be that way — but since it is, we have to let them know that they have to make good choices in life.”
Despite the obstacles and adversity, Bun B’s choice to continue what he and Pimp C started nearly 20 years ago is proof of his ambition and tenacity. The success or failure of II Trill will determine if Bun B has reached his peak as a rapper, or if he still has the attention of younger rap fans that appreciate what he means to hip-hop. Either way, he’s prepared for the task at hand. “I know how it feels to be the underdog because no one really believed in UGK when we started,” he reveals. “The record label didn’t have faith in the group, so they only promoted us in certain markets. They were really nervous and they didn’t have faith in the music to put a lot of money behind it. We ended up putting our own time and money behind our projects to make it what it is today.”
“This movement was built on a foundation that Pimp C and I created. It will always live on. Thirty years from now, I will still be saying ‘rest in peace Pimp C and it’s UGK for life,’ ” he says.
