Picture Us Married: Nas, Kelis D-I-V-O-R-C-E

Isn't this the picture of marital bliss? When Nas and Kelis first hooked up back in '02, it was, as they relayed it to VIBE magazine in June 2003, kismet. “At the afterparty [for the MTV Video Music Awards], I met my girl,” Nas told VIBE. Kelis added: “Everyone moves out of the way, and Nas stands up, and I put my hand out, and I’m like, Hey, I’m Kelis. And he goes, ‘Who?’… So I’m crawling into a fucking hole, and he’s like, ‘Wait-huh? What’s your name? And I’m like, Kelis, and he’s like, ‘Oh, well that’s great, because I’ve been waiting to make you my wife all these years.’”

And it probably should have come as no surprise that the Queensbridge MC had matrimony on the mind. On his 1999 I Am, Nasir rapped to his would-be wife on "K-I-S-S-I-N-G":

I see you dressed up in white, face covered in veil
Do I hear wedding bells? My dogs throwin rice

And it's the day that your father give you away
to a real man that gently put the ring on your hand

Do we vow to stay faithful? Do more than try to
Now, look me in my eyes and say I do

Dare we look to lyrics for signs or symbolism? Rumor has it Nas couldn't stay faithful to his 7-months pregnant wife, but really only those two know what differences became irreconcilable. In hip hop, we often hold up our celebrity couples as a glossy version of our own relationships, giving Beyonce and Jay-Z the US Weekly treatment when they're courtside at a Knicks game, applauding Nelly and Ashanti for making it exclusive. The same went for Nas and Kelis, who scrapped a reality TV show for MTV after only a few unaired episodes, reportedly because their union was just too good and ordinary - no meddling parents and tug-of-rope over fame like the original Newlyweds.
But I Do is easy, I suppose. I Do forever is another story.

It Ain't Hard To Tell

This April marks the 15th anniversary of the release of Nas's seminal Illmatic. The 34-year-old son of Queensbridge was a babyfaced 20 years young when the record came out. Suffice it to say, anyone who knows this blogger, knows that I've been nursing a major crush ever since. Nasir Jones is the quiet boy in your third grade class who wrote your initials just above his, with a "+" sign in between, and left it in your book bag for you to find. He's that guy with his New Era Yankees cap cocked just so, who walked you halfway home, holding your umbrella above your heads and unfurling his brilliance along the way. There's a reason rap devotees called "God's Son" a prophet. Okay, maybe the messianic language was overblown, but regardless of what issue you might take with his flow or track record, no one in the game can more densely pack metaphors, similes, Five Percenter lore, egyptian history, street knowledge... into 16 bars. In hip hop, there's really no map anymore, we don't live and die by coasts, pledge our allegiances by borough. And it's been years since New York had the market on "real" hip hop, but if you can remember the first time you heard "The World Is Yours," it's hard not to get that old feeling. It's a "New York State of Mind."