New Hittman interview about Dr. Dre and Aftermath

[woof]

He was Dr. Dre’s protégé, the Anointed One, the next hip-hop superstar, and at the very height of his exposure, the moment he was to ascend to rap royalty, he vanished. No story, no explanation, nothing.

What the fuck happened?

*****

Things hadn’t been going so well for Dr. Dre when his second studio album, 2001, was released on November 16th, 1999 on Aftermath/Interscope Records. N.W.A was split, Eazy-E and 2Pac were dead, The D.O.C. wrecked his vocal chords in a car crash, Dre’s super group album The Firm underperformed, Snoop and Dre hadn’t been on good terms and the outlook for West Coast rap never seemed bleaker. But with one album, Dre put the West Coast back on the map and subsequently rose to the God-like position he occupies in rap today. Commercially successful, 2001 has sold 7.5 million copies alone to date in the United States and had its three lead singles all nominated for Grammy’s. But more than its commercial triumphs, 2001 is significant for hip-hop music on the whole. For Dre, it was a comeback album of sorts, as many music fans and critics thought him to be washed up after his groundbreaking 1992 debut, The Chronic. Not only did Dre prove his detractors wrong, he completely changed the sound of contemporary hip-hop once again in the same way he did with his G-funk laced debut. Instead of Parliament samples and massive drum kicks, 2001, with help from producer Mel-Man, is sparse, with sporadic orchestration, skulking bass, crawling synths and plodding drums. 2001 is The Chronic post-Los Angeles gang apocalypse, and the subject matter reflects the dark change in tone. While The Chronic, with its block-party ready West Coast anthems, is a daytime album, 2001 is certainly meant for the night. Background sounds of helicopters, car alarms and backyard parties float behind tracks while mystery, backstabbing, death and regret linger throughout 2001, even in its happiest moments, providing the listener with a view of turn-of-the-century Los Angeles through the seen-it-all eyes of Dre himself.

If Dre outlined the black-and-white sketch of his dystopian Los Angeles, then Hittman colored it in. Virtually unheard of before 2001 dropped, Hittman ended up rapping on 10 of the album’s 18 tracks and writing two more, including credits on “The Next Episode” and “Fuck You” and show-stealing verses and/or choruses on “Let’s Get High,” “Xxplosive” and “Big Egos.” Hittman wrote a large amount of Dre’s verses and was even given his own solo track on the album, the now-classic “Ackrite.” He had a vivid and sarcastic sense of humor (“I know Chihuahuas that’s more ra-ra/ha ha, I had to laugh, Dre, I bet he takes bubble baths” he teases on “Bitch Niggaz”) but also a knack for imagery and storytelling, like on “Murder Ink” (“When darkness be closin’ in/I’m motivated, with the howling wind/With a list of chosen men, frozen in sin/Knowin’ that your end is beginnin’” he hisses to open the track.)

Listening to 2001 in its entirety is akin to riding in the back of Dre’s own ’67 Impala through the streets of Los Angeles, and while Dre might be the driver, Hittman was the journey’s narrator lurking in the shadows. He’s hi-fiving you in the club and spitting at hoes on “Let’s Get High,” painting you a gruesome and lonely picture of LA gang life over Dre’s bone-chilling piano on “Big Egos” and bemoaning black-on-black violence and gun culture on “Bang Bang.” 2001 is a Dr. Dre album, but Hittman was his right-hand man, much like Snoop Dogg was on The Chronic. Dre had this much to say in a 2000 interview with MTV:

“Hittman is our next protégé. He’s the next person that we’re going to groom and try to build into a superstar, super hip-hop star. He’s incredible. He could sing, his rhymes are ridiculous and his delivery is incredible. That’s why he’s heard on the album probably more than I am, you know what I’m sayin’. He’s incredible. And he’s a real cool, laid-back guy, you know, so I know, outside of the studio, he’s not going to do anything to ruin his career.”

Unfortunately, Dre couldn’t have been more wrong. In the last 14 years, Hittman has released one album, Hittmanic Verses, which is a compilation of sorts consisting of mostly unreleased tracks from his time with Dre. He doesn’t have a Wikipedia page. He has 206 Facebook likes and 768 Twitter followers. So much for being the next hip-hop superstar. Hittman, the hyped protégé, the man Dre handpicked to lead his label Aftermath into the future, disappeared wholly off the map. He didn’t even descend into West Coast rap irrelevancy and do random guest verses and street albums; he completely and utterly dropped off the face of the earth. So what happened?

As a 2001 fanatic myself, I’ve been doing extensive research on Hittman for the past six years, trying to understand how and why Dre’s next superstar ceased to exist. Since 2001 dropped and Hittman disappeared, he’s become the stuff of internet rap forum legend. “[Hittman] was such a dope artist! He was on almost every song on that album and he pretty much brought that whole project together with his sick verses…I never heard of him again…seems like Dr. Dre just left him in the dust afterwards” one user posted in a Rap Genius forum, while another poster wondered, “So Hittman was on 10 songs on 2001 but just disappeared from the rap game? Why? How does he make a living? Is he the luckiest non-rapper of all time, or the rapper who blew his opportunity the most?” Even other rappers have mostly forgotten about him, though the few mentions of his name are telling: “Treatin’ y’all like Dre treated Hittman” Royce Da 5’9 spit on “What We Do,” while The Game, another former Dre protégé, rapped on the title track of his own Dre-produced debut, “Don’t stop me in traffic and ask about Hittman.”

I finally got fed up with all the guessing and internet digging. 2001 is too important of an album and Hittman’s work on it is too fantastic for it to be forgotten. With the 15th anniversary of 2001 coming up this November, I went on a limb and reached out to Hittman on Twitter. He hadn’t done a proper interview in eight years. What resulted was an hour long in-person conversation and a lengthy email back-and-forth in which Hittman and I discussed everything from previously unheard stories behind the making of 2001, the details of his departure from Aftermath, his many feelings on the path his career took and how he recently reconnected with Dre in a major way on Dre’s long-awaited album, Detox, almost 15 years after they first worked together. The Hittman I met isn’t bitter or regretful. Instead, like you or me, he just wants to tell his story.

The following transcript was compiled from my in-person interview with Hittman and a handful of follow-up emails.

In this first installment, Hittman and I discuss the reason why he parted ways with Aftermath, his fallout with Dr. Dre, being unprepared and unwilling to continue to make music after his split from his mentor and why artists always seem to leave Aftermath.


PART ONE

NOT MAD: Before we even talk about everything at Aftermath falling apart, why weren’t you putting yourself out there more around the time when 2001 dropped? Why not do features and videos when you were on fire like you were?

Hittman: Because the first thing I appeared on was 2001, Dre kind of wanted to introduce me, he didn’t want me to be on certain people’s projects…I guess at one point, Jimmy Iovine and Clive (Davis) didn’t see eye to eye, and anything having to do with Arista artists (Davis’s label and Hittman’s former label alongside Iovine’s Interscope Records) would automatically get shut down. Dre basically wanted me to focus on my album and not do features until I was done. I did a couple with my boy Hurricane and with Knoc Turn’al, me and him have a good rapport, but other than that it was focus. And then the chaos happened.

Let’s talk about the chaos. Things were going so well for you around the time 2001 dropped. The album was a smash, Dre picked you as his next protégé and it seemed as if you were on the verge of stardom. And then suddenly, you dropped off the face of the earth. So why did you leave Aftermath?

I left Aftermath because Dre and me seemed to not be on the same page as far as the vision went for my album. So I asked to be released after a while because it just didn’t seem it was working. It was baffling…before I got signed, my stepbrother passed away. He had asthma. And he pretty much thought he was over it, and I guess he was mowing the lawn where he worked and yeah…that was March of ’98. I started coming around (Dre) in April and was signed by July. And then, when the “Forgot About Dre” video came out (in January 2000)*, two days later my Grandmother passed away. There was so much shit pulling me so that creatively I wasn’t there. And I couldn’t recover in time. That’s another reason why I asked Dre to be released, because I didn’t want to be a burden no more, because man, even in my soul, it wasn’t coming like I wanted it to come out. So, me and Dre’s not seeing eye to eye, me and Big Yacht — my production company —I felt like they had their hands in too many things so there’s friction there, and the personal tragedy. Those three things wiped it out for me. Once it all went down, we were all in disarray. And then you’re burnt out on it. Me, personally, when it fell apart, I didn’t want to do music for a while. It was so much tragedy.

*The “Forgot About Dre” video, which won the MTV VMA for Best Rap Video, features a 45 second clip after the end of the song of Hittman rapping on an absolute banger of a track called “Last Dayz” produced by Dre, which Dre introduces by saying, “who’s next?” The video built up even more hype for Hittman at the time, which clearly never came to fruition.


Well, I feel like this pattern of signing and dropping protégés has become somewhat normal to Dre and Aftermath. So many of Dre’s protégés after Snoop and Eminem — you, Bishop Lamont, Slim tha Mobster, etc. — have been signed, suddenly dropped without releasing an album and never heard from again. Game is the only one I can think of who managed to get an album out before he was dropped. Why do you think this keeps happening? And for you specifically, why did we never hear from you again?

I’ll give it to you like this. Game was fortunate for two reasons: 50 liked what he was doing, so he was able to jump ship, and Dre wasn’t working on his own album at that time. Those who were fortunate to be around when Dre wasn’t 100% focused on his own album were the ones able to launch their careers. But those who were positioned to springboard off of a Dre album (like 2001) got lost in the shuffle.If he’s focused (on his album), all your energy is focused on helping him see his vision. Once he doesn’t have enthusiasm about what you’re doing, it wanes.

That’s what I think happened to each and every artist (on Aftermath), and you also kind of get used to being under his shield. You can get in to all the clubs, you know, ‘I’m rolling with Dre’ is kind of like a Black Card, it’s Aftermath motherfucker! Laughs. So when you get on your own, you don’t really know how to fend for yourself, it’s like “which way do I go?” (Dre) pretty much has a blank check budget, but you don’t. You don’t have the amenities that you’ve grown accustomed to having during his recording process and all of a sudden your comfort zone is snatched from under you with no real explanation. You feel slighted and helpless and unable to fend for yourself, well at least that’s how I felt. Not having the resolve on how to deal with those kinds of feelings can quickly send you into a state of obscurity. And yes, the political side of the music game stifled all my creativity and in that instance I totally lost my love for music and replaced it with disdain and hatred for it.

That makes total sense. Game still namedrops Dre. It seems like it took him a long time to get over leaving the label.

It’s because (Dre) builds a family environment. That’s part of it. When I first came around, we used to go to Reno…we really started 2001 in Reno because we couldn’t get in sync in LA for some reason, so when we went over there, we ate together, drank together, we hung out, went to the strip club…it built a synergy to where you knew how the wheels were moving as a squad and when you leave you no longer have that. It feels weird.

Did you feel betrayed by him?

In the heat of the moment, shit, yeah I felt betrayed by Dre and everyone else involved in the situation. I felt like I gave my 100% for 2001 but I couldn’t get even 30% in return for my project.

Why didn’t you at least try and release the album on another label? I’m sure you had offers.

Well, when word started going around that I was a restricted free agent so to speak, there were countless offers on the table! But by the time the necessary parties signed off on my walkin’ papers most of the labels had moved on to other things. At that point I was pretty much burnt out on the music game. I went on sabbatical. While on hiatus I got sick of people capitalizing off my bootlegged and leaked material, so I decided to package my own shit and put it out myself. Since most of the songs were in demo form none of it was really what I intended for it to sound like unfortunately. Yet and still it’s become a cult classic over the years and further fuels the mystery surrounding me as an artist, so I don’t complain.


I can imagine it was also hard to come virtually out of nowhere and instantly into the limelight. For you specifically, I feel like your personality wasn’t necessarily conducive to being a star right off the bat in the way someone like Snoop was.

I got criticized because I had the same visibility as Snoop had on The Chronic, but personality wise we’re not the same. Nate (Dogg) told me. We were joking on tour (the famous “Up In Smoke” tour, which was headlined by Dre, Snoop, Eminem and Ice Cube) and Snoop was doing some funny impersonation and he said, “you see that dude? He always was that way. High school, when he went to jail, he was always this persona.” I’m Hittman, I lurk in the shadows just by definition, you know what I’m saying? Dre used to have to pull me to the side. We’d be walking around, and people were staring, not knowing, looking like “is that Hittman?” And I’m ready to fight! Like “what this motherfucker lookin at?” Like we say in my neighborhood, you’ve got a 30 second commercial. If you don’t speak your piece you’re gonna get stepped to or something. So Dre would be like, “no, he’s a potential fan!” He had to get my mind right because I was in the street code.

Yeah. I guess it kind of shows that some people adjust easier than others. Do you feel like you weren’t ready to be a superstar?

Well, I was never really thinkin’ in terms of a being a superstar. I just wanted to establish myself as an important lyricist of my era. If there was any pressure it would’ve come with maintaining (my music) once it had been established. I guess I felt somewhat out of place. I won’t say that I didn’t feel ready but I was having a hard time coming to terms with being the only one out my crew that made it this far. I was definitely up for the challenge to rep for all of us though ‘til we were able to link up again as a unit. That was my motivation.

But even though you haven’t had music out, you’ve been able to support yourself I’m assuming with royalties, right?

Yeah. That’s been my lifeblood pretty much. Except at one point in 2005, there was a lawsuit over I think “The Next Episode.” Isaac Hayes hadn’t cleared the sample, somebody replayed something he did on the Shaft soundtrack and there were some discrepancies…so everything freezes. At that point, I had to go back to work. Talk about not being able to wrap my mind around something, getting up at 8…I used to not get up until 2! It’s definitely been a learning experience but I feel stronger from all the shit I went through.

In the next installment, Hittman and I discuss the legacy of 2001, ghostwriting for Dre, the perceived misogyny of the album and losing $100,000 to Jay Z.

[woof]

Hittman Arises — Part Two
By Jackson Howard

NOT MAD co-founder Jackson Howard sat down with Dr. Dre’s former protégé, Hittman. Read the first installment of the interview here.

In this second installment, Hittman and I discuss the legacy of 2001, ghostwriting for Dre, the perceived misogyny of the album and losing $100,000 to Jay Z.

PART TWO

NOT MAD: As I’m sure you are aware, 2001 turns 15 in November.

Hittman: Yep, I have my oldest son who is also 15 to remind me. He was born in the month that we were originally pushing for 2001 to drop, which was June.

What do you think is the legacy of 2001 in rap today? I honestly still see remnants of it everywhere.

I think the legacy of 2001 in rap today can be seen first and foremost in Dr. Dre himself and all that he’s been able to accomplish since the release of that record. It in a nutshell is the advancement of the West Coast. It solidified the sound of the West while also propelling it into the next phase; notice how it’s called 2001 yet it was released in 1999. Laughs. It is the portal that lots of the future West Coast superstars — who are now the current ones — had to walk through.

Agreed. It’s without a doubt a staple.

Well, I hope it’s a staple! Since I’m a fan of The Chronic, I feel that the standard was set with that album. But because I had so much to do with 2001, I quite naturally give that record the nod.

Not going to lie, I’m a 2001 guy too, if you couldn’t tell by now.

No doubt. I was just trippin’ off of the feedback given from a post HipHopDX did about which album people prefer, The Chronic or 2001? And what I learned from the article was that the majority of people were either pro-Chronic or pro-2001, not too much in between. I like and agree with what was said in one comment — it was to the extent of The Chronic being more of a day time album and 2001 having more of a night time feel to it, which is dead on to me. I remember hittin’ the Hollywood scene with the Aftermath staff at night, being on Sunset (Boulevard) barging into spots and havin’ the resident D.J. play songs that we were workin’ on and testing the material out in a neutral setting to see what the reaction would be. Songs that didn’t move nothin’ got scrapped. We had to live up to The Chronic! The D.O.C. and Snoop and all of them had made a perfect blueprint….so imagine the pressure of tryin’ to renovate a building that was already a well recognized landmark. That was the task that we were facing.

Yet you guys succeeded. And it wouldn’t have happened without your help. I mean, 2001 is just as much your album.

I know, and thanks! But whenever I pat myself on the back by making a similar statement I usually get (other people saying), “I know you’re on the album, but it’s Dr. Dre’s album.” And I’m like “true, but if only you knew how much input I had on his album though!” Laughs. Like the title of Jay Z’s double album suggests, 2001 is truly a gift and a curse.

You were the right hand man. Easily.

Indeed! It was me, Mel-Man and Em, who had just got on several months prior to me signing with The Math. Last Emperor, Eve, everyone else was out of there. The way I look at it, Dre was the space shuttle, Em was the middle power booster and me and Mel were the accompanying rocket boosters. For the 2001 album in particular I played the role of gravity. So, no matter what the other emcees chose to speak on in their verses, I always brought it back to the subject matter at hand with mine.

How was the album put together? There’s such a sense of community on it, I kind of imagine it like a big party where everyone just came in, dropped a verse here and there and hung out. The studio must have been a creative hotbed.   

2001 was put together like a jigsaw puzzle in a sense; several pieces crafted and put in the right places to make one big picture. If it sounds like one big party then good, the hard work to make it sound that way paid off. Laying the groundwork for the album was the hard part; it was a lot of trial and error. But once we found our groove the more party-like the atmosphere became. The dynamic in the studio was free flowing for the most part. It would become tense at times but it was all in the name of making the best product possible.


That must have been so fun. Those were the glory days.

There are a lot of components that made 2001 big, too. You had Dre reunited with Snoop and most of the Chronic class of ’92, Eminem was this new rap phenom, the Lakers brought the trophy back to L.A…it was this awesome West Coast comeback vibe surrounding that record and tour.

What was the dynamic specifically between you and Dre, being that you were his right hand man at the time?

When I first came around it seemed that a lot of the artists signed (to Aftermath) were hesitant to give Dre their honest opinions on the music. So I made it my business to say what I really felt about it. For instance, if Dre played me a beat then asked me like “what do you think about this, Hitt?” I’d tell him something like “If I had to make a decision between Baja Fresh or this track I’d get the Baja Fresh.” Half the people would have a shocked look on their face and everybody else would be laughin’ out loud. He’d turn it off quick like “okay fuck that beat!” then pull up another one like, “what about this one?” If I gave him that look like “that shit is bangin’,” that would be the one we attacked. We had so many arguments and almost brawls, divided over which songs should make the final cut. Not to mention the occasional “you can meet me outside muthafucka!” Laughs. That passion is what made that album, though.

2001 was such a success, yet you guys didn’t plan any singles. How did that work?

I call that the Off the Wall theory, because Michael Jackson’s Off the Wall was not made to be a pop record, but it was so fucking good it became popular. It’s kind of funny because we were confident that we had the first single in “The Next Episode” for a few reasons. One being Dre and Snoop rockin’ together again for the first time in (years), which was a big deal. Also, one of their first hits together was “Nothin’ but a G Thang,” where Snoop says “so just chill, for the next episode.” So it pretty much seemed to be a no-brainer, but Jimmy (Iovine, president of Interscope Records) didn’t think so. We were all annoyed. Then one night at the old A&M Studios, Scott (Storch) got on the keys and started to play what we all recognize now as “Still D.R.E.” and Mel came out of nowhere and started bangin’ out patterns on the drum machine. Dre was at the board tweakin the sounds…then Jimmy came into the studio seemingly amused by our vibe and said, “there it is!”

Jay Z wrote “Still D.R.E.,” right?

Yeah. And I was pretty damn angry about that when it first went down. I was like “between me, Em, The D.O.C. and countless other in-house pens on deck, we ain’t capable of comin’ with somethin’ for this?” Then I heard that they paid Jay like a hundred grand to write it, wow! Not that I have anything against Jay Z, he’s one of the dopest of all time. But it was just the principle of havin’ an East Coast guy pen Dre the anthem for his comeback record. That was baffling to me. If the tables were turned and somebody like Puffy was puttin’ the finishing touches on his joint I doubt that he would seek anybody from out this way to write his first single, and if he did I doubt it would be for that price. Laughs. But at the end of the day it did what it needed to do, so maybe it was the right move.

Yeah, I can imagine you were pissed, especially because you wrote so much good stuff for Dre on the album. Like “Fuck You,” which you wrote, is so killer. How did that song come about and what was your process writing for Dre in general?

With that one, it’s funny, and this is how (Dre) works. He doesn’t write rhymes but he has insight, he’ll sit with you and tell you. He might throw out a bar, then you start writing and he’ll veto it, he would yea or nay it until the verse was to his liking, and that’s how “Fuck You” was written. He was like “Hitt, this gotta come in and fucking kill.” I followed a pattern, and once he heard “I just want to fuck bad bitches,” next came “all the nights I never had bitches,” and he was just like “yeah, keep going!” I wrote that in like 15 minutes and what’s crazy about it, he memorized it there and spit it, he didn’t even take the paper with him.

Keeping on the subject of your lyrics — 2001 got a lot of criticism when it came out for being misogynistic. Robert Christgau, who is a legendary music critic, even said “Dre degrades women every way he can think of, all of which involve his dick.” What do you think about these criticisms?

The people who feel that way have a right to their opinion. And by definition if you take the lyrics literally then yes, they are misogynistic. But to nail home a point that DJ Premier once made about hip-hop — you have to know how to listen to it. There are so many figures of speech and slang and nuances, you know? So while some may feel that it’s misogynistic, it’s just good ole ‘boys being boys’ barbershop talk to me. (It was) never intended to be taken literally…we got daughters now. I’m conscious of that and I hope when they listen to that album they don’t mess with dudes that envision them like this.

I agree completely. Though I have to say I still laugh at your classic opening verse on “Let’s Get High,” you know, “Talking that, walking that, spitting at hoes.”

Laughs. See, but that’s what I mean, when I say, “spittin’ at hoes,” I don’t mean it literally. I’m sayin’ that I’m spittin’ game at the broad…It’s a trip how that verse came to be because I had written a different verse to it at first. But it got a lukewarm response, even Eminem was like “I think you should come with somethin’ else.” So I’m sittin’ there mad as shit tryin’ figure out what to say. I started thinkin’ about parts of Kurupt’s verse on “Housewife” where he says, “I had a dream of hoes, I had to screen my hoes, I seen my hoes in all kind of clothes.” So I thought, “let me play off of that same kind of sentiment for my opening lines,” which became “Talkin’ that, walkin’ that, spittin’ at hoes, smokin’ this drinkin’ that getting’ at hoes…” Everyone involved on that song was like “That’s it!” Later, Dre told me “I (was) testin’ you out to see if you had snap back.” I was glad that I passed the test!

 

In the next and final installment, Hittman and I discuss his present day musical output, reconnecting with Dr. Dre in the studio, why he thinks Dre’s long-awaited third project is finally coming and not being nostalgic.

[Hack Wilson - real]

interesting

[bouli77]

awesome read. insightful questions, can't wait for the rest.

[Will_B]

Super dope interview thanks for sharing

[aerroc]

good read but blah blah blah this guy is full of excuses next superstar my ass

[jaytee]

Great read.  I'm looking forward to part 3. 

[TraceOneInfinite Flat Earther 96']

interesting... especially the parts about how 2001 came together in the studio. 

[Don Seer]

ditto! this guy ain't heard of the murder weapon cd from way before hittmanic verses though?

[Will_B]

ditto! this guy ain't heard of the murder weapon cd from way before hittmanic verses though?

Yeah but the stuff Ben Baller put out was for promo. Not the leaked unfinished albums Hitts calling 'demo quality'

[bouli77]

good read but blah blah blah this guy is full of excuses next superstar my ass

if you read the interview he didn't say he was set to be the next superstar, he just wanted to be a proficient lyricist. also, he didn't really make excuses, he just answered the questions he was asked bluntly and eloquently.

[Black Excellence]

damn that fucked up dre but as a grown man you suppose to know how to get out and make opportunities for yourself in general.
he was dope and sounded perfect over what dre and them had goin' musically back then though. dre coulda turn aftermath into the new and improved death row if he wanted to.
the interview is dope and very insightful. I liked the fact that they had fun makin' 2001 and worked for perfection....shit was a classic. his take on jay-z writin' still d.r.e was interesting and really made me ponder.

[bouli77]

yeah that Jay Z writing Still DRE shit always seemed weird to me. dre and interscope definitely recouped the money, though.

[Don Seer]

it was a canny PR move

[TraceOneInfinite Flat Earther 96']

good read but blah blah blah this guy is full of excuses next superstar my ass

if you read the interview he didn't say he was set to be the next superstar, he just wanted to be a proficient lyricist. also, he didn't really make excuses, he just answered the questions he was asked bluntly and eloquently.

True, props to Hittman for opening up.  I'm curious what kind of 9-5 he was doing.