Rah Digga Ready To Blow Up

(2 of 2)

You sit next to her on a gray stoop. "I definitely want to make enough money to secure my future," she says, exhaling smoke from a Marlboro Light. "Rap is just a stepping stone. I want my own label and to watch other talent pay dues and suffer headaches like I used to." She laughs.

Not long afterward, you're at the office, writing the story. One of your editors calls. Is this rapper really going to break big? he asks. Are we going to be seeing her in magazines and newspapers and photo spreads in the days and weeks ahead? You reply, Absolutely.

You regret your answer almost instantly. Prediction can be a sucker's game; appreciation is where it's really at. You like Rah's music, that you know. She seems true to her roots--you saw that up close. The glossy photos in perfumy magazines, the Hype Williams-directed videos, the sound-bite TV appearances--all of that seems thin and sugary, like the glaze on a doughnut. Answering the door in a fuzzy bathrobe, that's real, that's true, that's hip-hop. In that one moment in her graffiti-scarred hallway, Rah was as big a star as you've seen in a long time.