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During the three-hour-plus trek to Worcester, everything is on a relatively even keel. Banter ranges from Cris and Booker throwing random Tenacious D references back and forth to talk of Evander "Real Deal" Holyfield's "big ass house" to whether or not Jayson Williams will get thrown in jail when his trial concludes. The loudest laughter comes during a stroll down memory lane.
"He used to always rock this really big afro," Taylor, with a wide smile, says about giving a 17-year-old Cris his first radio job in Atlanta.
"Remember people in Atlanta used to think he was the So So Def guy?" Booker interjects, talking to Taylor. "Everybody used to think he was the guy on the So So Def logo."
Meanwhile, Cris stands silently nearby, making one of his favorite delicacies for himself and Taylor: peanut butter and jelly — and honey — sandwiches.
"The honey is what makes it," Cris explains.
There's no PB&J&H sandwich-making later in Worcester on the bus holding most of the other DTP members. Besides bottles of beer and liquor, the only thing in the fridge is an almost-empty jar of mustard and a container with a few sips' worth of spoiled milk.
"Our bus can't be like Cris' bus, Cris be stuntin'," the crew's Tity Boi says, opening up the refrigerator in the front while I-20 and Dolla Boy play chess.
"They call this the ghetto bus," Lil' Fate says, garnering a huge smile from the usually stoic I-20. "When it comes to up-and-coming artists, that's what you gotta do — I guess."
Gett-toooe indeed. All you have to do is peep their makeshift recording facility.
"This is our studio right here," Tity says, pointing to a small boom box with a microphone plugged into it.
Stationed around the corner and across the street from the DTP bus is David Banner's headquarters-on-wheels. His bus has also been affectionately referred to as "ghetto" because of its sometimes chaotic atmosphere, but he has a few more amenities than DTP. While Banner's boys chop it up in front, DB is often busy in the back making beats in the tight quarters filled with studio equipment.
"Yeah, it's hard sometimes, man, because I perform too and everybody on the tour wants beats," Banner, who just a year and a half ago was homeless and sleeping in his van, says with a smile. "It's cool, though."
Listening to Banner — in the middle of making a beat for Ludacris' upcoming LP, The Red Light District — describe the tools of the trade such as the G4, the Mackie Board, the MPC2000 and the Mbox will get you as lost in translation as Bill Murray when he stayed in Japan. But not to be outdone by his tourmates, DB shuts down his studio soon enough to give a tour of his bus.
"Wanna look at the crapper? Take a look at the crapper," Banner continues, now standing by an open, empty toilet that looks way too small for his husky frame to fit on.
Forty-five minutes later inside the Palladium, Banner, the night's second performer (Knoc-Turn'Al always starts the proceedings), has done his proverbial tearing down of the building with his Mississippi wildman antics. On any given night, Dave may walk shirtless into the crowd, hang from a balcony, stagedive or pick a woman up over his shoulder. (He used to spit fire — no, not lyrically, but really spit flames — as part of his act, but has put that part of the show on pause while playing smaller venues). He is the George "The Animal" Steele of rap concerts, unpredictable and untamed.
Upstairs during a meet-and-greet with Ludacris, the elated fans have managed to keep their composure. As has Cris, except when it looks like he's about to get turned into a man sandwich.
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"I'm always gonna be happy. It don't take a lot to make me happy."
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"What up," Cris says to a heavyset couple who tower over him. "Y'all making me look small," he carries on, his eyes and mouth opening wide. "Gaaaaat damn!"
"I'm sorry," the female half of the couple says to Luda with a smile and a hint of embarrassment.
"It's all good," Luda responds as the camera flashes.
Shortly after the meet-and-greet, Cris briefly catches up with Chingy before the St. Louis MC hits the stage.
"It's your boy Chingy 'bout to go onstage," the wavy-haired rapper says before starting to rock from side to side, getting in his zone. " 'Bout to give these people a show. Git it like me! Git it like me!"
Seconds later, Chingy is making his way down a narrow stairway to the backstage area. "We about to go down there, they need to make way for the king!" he jokes as he walks.
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Photo: MTV News
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