They’re uneasy about still bein’ on the bottom.”ĥ0 gets through his days in bulletproof trucks, walking with four to six bodyguards just inches away, ushering him briskly through streets and doors, but his body language and demeanor show him unmoved by the threats on his life.

The people that dislike me have nothin’ to lose. I’m movin around, I’m all over the country, I’m makin’ money, I’m a motherfuckin’ star. The gangsters don’t like that I do whatever the fuck I wanna do. “This have nothin’ to do with no rappers. Some have suggested that it’s other rappers who are trying to kill him, but 50 says hatred from his old competitors in crack dealing has multiplied because of his fame. And right now, there are people who want 50 dead. Just four days before this very evening, an empty SUV owned by Busta Rhymes was hit with six bullets while parked in front of 50 Cent’s manager’s office. His first hip-hop mentor, Jam Master Jay, was killed execution-style last year. At twelve, he became a dealer, and was nearly shot to death at twenty-four. His mother, a drug dealer, was killed when he was eight. Violence has been a constant in the life of twenty-six-year-old 50 Cent - government name Curtis Jackson, nickname Boo-Boo. ”You’re not supposed to get hit that many times and get away!” ”I had to tell him that was a special situation,” he says. ”One time he was watching TV with another little kid,” 50 says, ”and a person got shot and died. When he gets around to talking about his six-year-old son, Marquise, who appears in the ”Wanksta” video, his son’s mother pulls his picture out of her wallet.

He’s animated, a street-corner shit-talker who knows where all the bodies are buried and knows no one can make him shut up. On records, 50 projects a scary crack dealer, but among friends, the screw face drops. His navy-blue bulletproof vest is there on the floor. There’s a thin wife-beater covering his chiseled torso and a Yankees hat balanced at an angle atop the white do-rag on his head. $ Tonight he’ll hold court for three or four hours straight until it’s time to leave for a tour date in Baltimore. Now, as his crew prowls for groupies, 50 is keeping a roomful of friends in stitches, telling stories about his past with the same mix of he-didn’t-just-say-that humor and gruesome detail that has made him the most exciting new MC and the coolest new villain in hip-hop since the emergence of Eminem. A convoy of nine trucks followed him three minutes down the road to this hotel. When 50 left the venue, he was surrounded by a ring of bodyguards until he climbed into a bulletproof GMC Suburban. Three hours ago, he finished the biggest show of his career yet, a sold-out date for a crowd of 15,000 at Long Island’s Nassau Coliseum. 50 is inside his room, still pulsing with energy. and 50 Cent’s six bodyguards are out in the hallway of the hotel, lazily leaning against the wall or completely asleep.

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