Corey Miller, A*K*A. No Limit lieutenant C-Murder, glides into the baggage claim area, everything changes in a hurry. The younger brother of Master P is at least 6'3. He's wearing a black Yankees
skully and leather racing jacket in 70 degree weather. We head toward the curb, where a white, chromed-out Infiniti Q45 is double-parked, waiting for us. "You ready to roll?" he asks.
C-Murder's story begins 90 minutes south of Baton Rouge in New Orleans. Like his older brother, C ran the city's streets trying to survive - juking death, dead homies and jail at every turn. But
after the success of Master P's independent The Ghetto's Tryin To Kill Me (1992, then re-released last year) and 99 Ways To Die EP in 1994, C dove head first into the rap thing. A year later, he made his mark as a potent
partner in the group TRU ( C, P, and lil brother Silkk the Shocker ) with their debut album, TRUE, independently sold just shy of gold. TRU to Da Game, their 1997 follow-up, went double-platinum. And while TRU's next effor
t is due out later this year, C and Silkk dropped solo albums within a month of each other - Life or Death and Charge it 2 Da Game respectively - each selling around 200,000 units their first week out. But don't be fooled. There aren't any sibling rivalries in the No Limit camp.
Unlike Mystikal, Silkk, or even P himself, C-Murder doesn't thrive on being noticed. "I don't need to be in the spotlight," he says, as we cruise toward a local barbecue pit that he promises has the
best Kool-Aid. "I'm constantly thinking of ways to make more money. I don't care if nobody ever hears of me, but I know that paper's gonna roll in." So far, C's got two houses, a Lincoln navigator, and a motorcycle, while
most brothas his age make seven dollars an hour at the mall.
His own brothers, though, aren't the only ones that get C's loyalty. "There's about 20 of us on the label right now, but we're all like a family," C says with pride. "We trying to make sure that we
all come up." The extended clan's hometowns span from the East to the West. Identical twin rappers Kane and Abel are from the Bronx. Steady Mobb'n and Snoop are from of course, Cali, and Mr. Serv-On comes from the DC area.
C scoffs at the label's naysayers. "When you're busy, you know you're doin something right," he says, pulling into the eatery's parking lot. "If you got a lot of time on your hands, you're definitely
doin something wrong. That's what I don't understand about these major labels. You can be tight, but they wait too long (to release new records), and when you put that second album out (about a year or so after the first),
you fall off." On the average, No Limit releases an album a month. Every album, no matter who the artistis features guest appearances from one or more No Limit signees, much like their cohorts from Shaolin, the Wu-Tang Clan.
A few minutes later, we're sipping out of huge, styrofoam cups filled to the brim with Tropical Punch Kool-Aid and ice. The sugar rush hits me like an uppercut. C laughs, "This is that ghetto shit."
The counter girls begin to make eyes. "Why don't you turn that thing off and talk to us?" the butter- skinned cashier beckons to me. "What y'all doin tonight?"
"Handlin business," C replies. "Handlin business." Business for Mr. Miller includes setting up the inner workings of his own, brand new label, TRU Records (a No Limit subsidiary, naturally), which
he hopes will solidify his already-firm base. "It's gonna be just like No Limit," he says, "except I'll get the money."
On the way to our next destination, Mia X calls in on C's walkie-talkie to get the 411 on the day. "I'm goin over to the tat shop," C tells her. Every member of the label, from P on down, is required
to carry one of the radios. When someone's out of state, the crew simply changes the frequency. "Get my name tattooed on you," Mia jokingly tells C, adding that she may even meet us there. The tattoo shop, nestled in a small
shopping mall, is packed to the gills today. The lone tattoo artist is focused on a round sister who's getting the names of her mother and her baby tattooed on the same arm. C has 13 tattoos, including a Thug Life-style No Limit
brand across his stomach and a gigantic portrait of the TRU emblem across his back. "It took 6 hours," he said of the TRU tat, "and that shit hurt." Now he wants a 50 - dollar bill on his forearm. "This is where we come to kick
it at when we got the time," he says. In fact, he isn't the only No Limit soldier in the house. New recruit Mac is a few chairs over, pouring his mind onto the pages of the spiral-bound notebook in his lap. "Is that some dope shit?" C asks.
"Naw, man, it's just alright," Mac admits. Quiet and reserved, he listens as C mumbles something about a girl from the night before. They both laugh. A half- hour later, C gives up on the tattoo, and we're rolling.
The spirit and image of the indomitable Tupac Shakur have become the standard of a true "soldier," a posture that some among the No Limit army seem to emulate : rings, blunts, tattoos and, most importantly, the drive to
survive despite bullets, bad blood, or anything else. But word on the street is that C-Murder has married Tupac's artistic legacy with his own product in a way that exploits, not explores - that C is ripping off the slain rapper's distinctive
vocal characteristics. Listen to cuts like "Show Me Luv", "Feel My Pain" and "Riders," on Life or Death, and you too may swear that 'Pac had been resurrected in the vocal booth at No Limit Studios.
When asked about the vocal resemblance, C's not surprised. "Well, yeah, people have told me that I rhyme like 'Pac. Other people have told me that other people in No Limit sound like him also - more so than me. [Tupac's]
definitely one of my inspirations, one of my idols. It was he, P, Scarface and Eazy-E that made me want to do this."
"I think it's kinda strange, because a lot of what he's doing is reminiscent of Tupac, from stances that he takes to having multiple tattoos and even sounding like him," opines Thembisa Mshaka, former rap editor of Gavin
Report. "I don't know if it's in tribute to him, or if they had a connection. But someone who's only rapping for three years is not going to have a deep reference base, as far as influences go. If Tupac's who C-Murder likes the most and he had
just started rapping when Tupac was at the height of superstardom, then that explains the sound." "But then, on a whole other level," she continues, "It's like, what's up with that? What's up with rapping for 3 years, being affiliated with a platinum
label, then having your own label? It just speaks to how quickly hip hop is moving. There is no more of that I've-been-rapping-for-10-years-and-I-just-got-my-first-album-deal." Indeed, C-Murder's TRU Records is expected to release Mr. Magic's debut later this summer.
The south is certainly second to the west as a Tupac stronghold, so you could view C-Murder's resemblance to 'Pac as an understandable result of the former's 'Pac-saturated environment. Or you could interpret his 'Pac-like
vocal inflections, phrasing and use of key expressions from some of 'Pac's more enduring records ("dear mama", "holla if you hear me") as plain, old- fashioned biting. Either way, Makavelli's music still plays loud and strong in Baton Rouge jeeps,
and he still lives in the minds of most of the nation's rap fans and MC's, including C-Murder.
"I personally don't think I sound like 'Pac, but if other people feel that way, then I take it as a compliment, cause he was the best," says C. "He was the best at makin people feel him, and a lot of people loved him for that.
After a stop for shoes at the local Foot Locker, where they know C by name, we're on our way to Louisiana State to run some hoops with Snoop Dogg, Mac, and a few others. But the No Limit walkie-talkie blares that Snoop's plane is late - he'll see us at the studio later.
The college gym is huge - a three floor complex with everything from racquetball to free weights. C suits up in some Adidas shorts with Nike high-tops and a No Limit shirt, and within 10 minutes, he's in the middle of a game, running
up and down the court. He, Mac, and two of their homies tap their opponents by six, leaving a white guy from the other ream stomping his feet in frustration before hitting the showers. But victory doesn't move C one way or the other. He grabs a towel, and in
minutes we're on the way to No Limit Studios, where C-Murder's real game is being planned and strategized.
Surprisingly, No Limit's hometown headquarters are more like a small observation post than the center of rap's Black Trump and his ever-expanding empire (No Limit has another office in L.A.). The place is housed in a simple office building
on a quiet street, with a nondescript "NLR Promotions" enscripted on the front door. But size isn't everything, and between the faded, plaque covered walls of that tiny office lies everything that counts in the No Limit legacy - particularly the label's extraordinary
Beats by the Pound production team and their recording studio, where almost all of the label's near-20 gold and platinum albums were recorded last year. No Limit's regular staff works nine-to-five in their headquarters, then the artists come into the office studio at night to record.
"I feel like I got shot in the head, and now I got a new chance at life," Snoop says to me when we get there. He's flown in to record a track with C and Silkk for his No Limit debut, Dogg World, due out in August. "My life was like a puzzle until now.
I felt like the Mystikal album cover. I'm gettin a chance to work with all this new talent. There's no where else I'd rather be. Now the pieces fit."
One member of the BBP production team is required to be in the studio at all times. Right now, two BBP guys are in the closed-door production room, putting together Snoop's track, a loopy, funk-filled groove tentatively titled "Murder Murder Murder".
C taps on the door, and someone cracks it open. "How much more time you need?" C asks. "Forty-five minutes, an hour," he says. C nods. "You hungry?" he asks me.
It's off to a pool hall around the corner to shoot a few rocks. After we've squared off with two games apiece and enjoyed a mini-feast of chicken fingers buffalo wings and incredible tacos we head back to the studio. Dice are being rolled on the floor,
and a stack of Andrews and Benjamins are up for grabs. C takes his knot, preparing to get down with Snoop and Steady Mobb'n. Mia X is here, chillin in the corner, writing something in her notebook. "You want some of this?" C asks her.
She shakes her head. "I don't get on my knees for nothin," she says, grinning The game goes on for two hours. C gets broken but continues to watch Snoop and Steady go head to head. By the time it's over, Steady walks away with almost $6000, and it's time
to do the track. C's been anticipating recording the song all day, particularly excited that he's working with Snoop. "I've always been a fan of his," he says. C goes into the studio first, the music blasting loud enough for you to hear it in the next state. With pen and pad in
hand and his skull cap turned to the side, he immerses himself in the bouncy licks, and when he resurfaces, he lays his verse down in three takes. Snoop takes a sip of his personally-mixed blend of Moët and orange juice and heads in himself. Then it's up to Silkk the Shocker to
freak it. Freshly recovered from a 100+ degree fever and a week in bed, Silkk is a little sluggish but determined. He kicks his verse, and in what feels like minutes, the song is done.
The energy in the room dies down while the track is mixed. C's got his mind on the folly of taking the game too seriously. "A lot of people get big-headed and try to go out here knocking people and end up making enemies," C says, as he stretches out on a
leather couch. "Why make an enemy when you can have a million friends?"
June 2nd marks the release of what is being called P's final lyrical opus, The Last Don. The 28-year-old multi-millionaire is deserting the stage to devote his energies to elevating his business enterprises, especially in the movie arena. There's even talk
of a No Limit tour, with plans to feature everyone in P's squadron alongside a range of civilians - from Montell Jordan to R. Kelly.
C's got his eyes on his own prize - mainly, his own label, his own portfolio of investments and his own personal set of goals for the future. Meanwhile, he's P's right-hand man on the business side of things, learning all he can. But if there's one thing that
'Pac's murder taught us is that in hip-hop, anything can happen, and dreams shatter like glass on the hour. C remains unfazed."Me?" he says, with classic Miller brother confidence, "I'm not really scared of anything."
This Page Was Written and Created by Brett Weisz a.k.a. Don Costalono
