I don’t remember where I was the first time I heard the Lox’s “Money, Power & Respect,” but I remember the feeling. The song was good — hard New York shit from the guys on the “Benjamins” remix, all of them rapping just behind the beat and coming up with cool little catchphrases. It had strings and pianos and Lil Kim on the hook. And then it had that ending. A dog barks, and a new voice comes in — hoarse, gruff, shadowy. “This is a beat that I can freak,” he announces, and then he freaks it. That voice growls on a low boil for maybe 20 seconds, and then something changes. The voice gets more angry, more defiant, and it starts talking some wild shit: “This ain’t no fuckin’ game! You think I’m playin’? Till you layin’ somewhere in a junkyard decayin’? Moms at home prayin’ that you coming home, but you not! You sittin’ up in a trunk and startin’ to rot! And hell is hot! Because I’m here now, baby! It’s going down, baby! Get the four-pound, baby!” Hearing that made me feel like I had electricity in my blood. I could’ve jumped off a building to that. I could still jump off a building to that.