When everyone is overweight, it’s hard to draw a line between the lifestyle and the drugs. He did have codeine in his system, and I gotta be realistic and say what if he didn’t sip syrup that day, would he still be here? Maybe. Doctor told him, “If you don’t use this mask when you sleep, eventually you’re gonna die.” He didn’t use it and eventually he died. Pimp C’s wife, she’ll be the first to tell you he didn’t die of a drug overdose, he died of sleep apnea. He sipped syrup every day of his life but he also went to Timmy Chan’s and French’s every day of his life.
The only people I know who died and it was syrup-related was Pimp C, DJ Screw, Big Moe and my homeboy Big Mixx. It’s confusing to some people and a little controversial. I never understood how even after Screw, Pimp and Moe passed there was still no backlash to codeine culture in Texas. After a while of just sipping syrup and being big, we all have friends who passed away, not from overdosing on syrup but from the lifestyle. And because you’re enjoying yourself, you don’t realize how bad it is for you. You drink all that sugar in the soda, then you get hungry and you pig out because it gives you the munchies too. How does syrup play into the weight and health issues in Texas? Especially when you need seatbelt extensions on a plane and you’re sweating from getting up to go to the bathroom. I was running over six miles a day every single day and in a month I lost a total of two pounds. I tried diet and exercise – I don’t mean no punk diet or punk exercise! My doctor told me I was morbidly obese – if you’re 50 pounds overweight it takes 15 years off your life. I was ashamed to get surgery! I thought it was some type of vain thing like plastic surgery, but it’s not! It saved my life. And it was my last resort. There’s a stigma around getting surgery to lose weight… Some of it I gained back on purpose though - if you go from 300 pounds to a normal size the thought is “Damn, what happened?” That’s why I’m very vocal about my surgery - I don’t want anyone thinking I got Aids or something. slab god is available at all the usual spots.Īlmost 150 pounds. Here is Paul Wall talking about having surgery to lose weight, codeine culture, gun violence and Islam. (We also spoke at length about Paul’s many trips to Iraq and Afghanistan to perform for American troops – “I’m for none of the wars but I’m for the soldiers a million percent” – and getting mortared while performing for a thousand people, many of whom were waving Texas flags.) The endgame isn’t just to get rich and buy ridiculous shit it’s to blaze a trail and open doors so others can follow in your footsteps. (Side note: fuck Horatio Alger in general.) But the way Paul Wall talks about slabs is like the American Dream at its best. I know the US doesn’t own car culture, nor do we have a monopoly on telling poor people that their problem is they don’t work hard enough. His problem is less about the availability of previously hard-to-find car parts online per sé and more about the conflation of being rich, being cool and being real. To Paul, slabs are Horatio Alger stories on wheels and ridin’ slab makes you a role model, whether you like it or not. It’s not just about having a cool-ass car: it’s about the work that went into making the money that bought it, especially in the many many disadvantaged corners of Texas.
When I ask Paul about a line on ‘Top Diine’ where he takes a shot at folks buying rare rims on the internet, he expounds on the responsibility of ridin’ slab. And slab god is an album for and about slabs, both for triumphantly swangin’ down the block at five miles an hour on $8,000 of block money, and for cruising your city’s extensive network of superhighways getting your thoughts together. Paul owns three Cadillac slabs, one of which pops trunk to reveal “RIP LIL E-MANN” in blue neon.
#Lil mitchy slick killed full#
Slabs are Houston’s signature contribution to car culture, defined more or less by candy paint, decorative extra spare tires, rims that poke out from the wheel well, and a trunk full of bang that says the owner’s phrase of choice in neon. I cut it down partially for length, but also because this is an international magazine and a lot of what we discussed was really fucking American in a way that I wasn’t sure would translate without a lot of context.Ĭase in point: we linked up to discuss slab god, Paul’s eighth solo album. This is only about half of my conversation with Houston rap legend Paul Wall.
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