Gurp City

It's like Vegas fool. San Francisco and the Bay Area rappers, producers and DJs all get together for one good cause, to get drunk as fuck and make good music. Gurp City consists of hip hop pioneers such as DJ Quest and DJ Eddie Def to underground legends like Bored Stiff and Sacred Hoop to freestyle champions TopR and Conceit...pretty much every alcoholic rapper in the Bay Area of California. The Gurp Fam keeps growing and innovating rap music with artists like Trunk Drank, Z-Man, Fist Fam, Grand Invincible, Fay Dog, G-Pek, Eddie K, DJ Marz, Bullet Proof Space Travelers, Bullet Proof Scratch Hampsters, DJ Cue, Brandon B, Luke Sick, Iron Fist, Thuggy Fresh, 6 Feet Deep, DJ Mathew Africa, 4oneFunk, DJ Teeko, DJ Max Kane, DJ Mista-B, DJ B. Cause, DNAE Beats, Boac, The Makai, Third Sight, The AlterBoys, MC Oroville, Illsquad, Live Human, Lords Crew, Alex Pardee, Zero Friends, Big Sammy, DJ Raw B and Fatees.

REMINDER: This weekend is the Gurp City ART & MUSIC Festival

Posted by Thuggy

Those of you who dont remember last years ruckus heres a few pics and full recap of the events from Sacred Hoop’s Luke Sick.

gurped otut

Eddie k gurp city

gurp city shit

big ass 40


Luke Sick’s SF Gurp City ’06 Diary

Dear Gurp Diary,
February Fourth in the year of two thousand six was the Gurp City Art and Rap Show. It started off in some rad little yuppie art space off Cesar Chavez across from Kelley-Moore Paint. The space is owned by this cool ass lawyer dude (who we later found out is a kick ass DJ as well). DJ Marz (who organized the whole event) had provided the art viewing public with ten large jugs of Carlos Rossi and some two buck chuck for the ungurp-affiliated. Marz also had the infamous “X-mas Liquor” on hand to make us all feel like we were drinking pruno up in D Pod. All the art was sick, and people got drunk off the wine and store bought tall cans and forties and smoked pot on the roof. Oaty Love who DJed a set, and also DJed the front room the whole night later at the Hemlock, had his son and a friend running around on roller states or something—gurpos in training. Later Oaty Love and his son’s band, Something, played a set with the son on guitar and the dad on turntables and vocals. When they played their hit song “Forty Bag,” DJ Marz came out dressed as a life-size forty in a brown bag and went dumb on the dance floor. I’m sure DJ Steph and Serg (from Beer and Rap) got pictures of this and Thug E. Fresh got it on video. Look for it on UTube. Art fell off the walls periodically, and Nate Nitty a.k.a. the Curator, a.k.a. Gurp Jesus, was on hand to guzzle multiple bottles of two buck chuck, bitterly chat up unsuspecting art students, piss himself, manage to have a lady help him dry his jeans in the community bath/laundry room, face-fuck a statue, and attempt to whip his dick out. He titled his show “Living Gurp Art,” but nobody thought that Nate groping and kissing everybody (men included) was cool at all. I told Nate I didn’t want to be known as the guy who drives around the guy who whips his dick out and told him to buckle up then I went and got Hewhocannotbenamed so I could drive him over to his house to grab his guitar before sound check which is ironic ‘cause Hewho plays most of his shows naked. Nate passed out before we got to the Dwarves’ Hard-tail Hotel. Hewho grabbed his guitar and we hit the Hemlock. There was no sound check. Nate woke up and didn’t know where he was or what we were supposed to be doing, so I ditched him and went and got some pizza with DJ Quest who was the best DJ of the whole night. His scratching during Eddie K’s hyphy ass set was phenomenal. When we got back to the spot the Gorgeous Armada was in full-swing with Captain Handsome Gorgeous at the helm navigating the ruckus. I especially remember the “Fresh Meat” song. Yo Handsome, two people who were there form San Jose have already asked me where they can get a cd of y’alls shit. The Armada handed out toothpaste, and the bass player was too hot for words. Y’all need to put that babe in the front. Nate poured beer all over himself and the front of the stage during Gorgeous’ set and then he broke a pint glass like a dipshit loser. During all this Hewho had purchased a thirty bag and killed it in ten minutes, disappearing for the rest of the night, but not before he said to me, “Dude, your buddy is annoying as fuck, he won’t leave me alone, is he fucking gay or what?” Next up was Strangeface which was sick. Boac and Conceit always complement each other and Rush (watch this kid) was the extra-special frosting. Of course Conceit was the best emcee of the evening, proving it especially on the verse he kicked during Eddie K’s hyphy extravaganza. Somewhere in there Aye Jay from Becky Sagers introduced me to Doug Surreal of Jack Spaar fame, and Doug hit me off with a beat reel (watch this kid doin’ shit with me and Z). Either Becky Sagers or DJ SamIam played next. Big ups to Big Sammy for getting mentioned in an Eddie K song (“blazin’ like SamIam…”), and what’s the name of that crew that was rappin’ with you? Sammy’s crew threw a yellow bus piñata into the crowd. It was filled with dum-dums. Thug E. Fresh has confessed to being hit with multiple dum-dums during the Six Feet Deep set. But first, Chico’s native sons had to make an appearance. Becky Sagers scared the crowd in an extremely loving way while Loomis kept it death on the clickety-clack while Heathakilla a.k.a. Hardcore Jerry was spitting directly into the crown of the muthafuckin’ microphone while a blacked-out Fay Dog from Six Feet Deep was already goin’ all the way nutso. Aye Jay ripped his Adrock on mini-thins style, but no “Smokebomb” cover? What’s up with that? The beatbox routine was kinda illy though. By then, Gurp Jesus had been cut off from the bar, and the bartender told me, “Watch your friend, he shouldn’t even be in here.” At around this point the Mayor of Gurp City and his lovely First Lady took over as host and hostess of the evening. I won’t even mention the rumors that were circulating, started mostly by Gurp Jesus for no apparent reason. Hey guys, is it just me or is this whole Gurp City thing going totally WWF? And isn’t it fucking awesome? We played next, Get The Hater with a Sacred Hoop song thrown in for good measure. I don’t remember much of the actual set except the usual: Marz tore it the fuck up and broke all his records, I sang to some random girl and she sang back to me, and I laughed the whole time. Extra special bonuses during the set: the Mayor was sneakily and yet nicely rockin’ my back-ups, Fay got on stage and sang, and everybody was singing along to most of the songs… okay I remember everything and it fucking ruled dude. Eddie K dubbed me “The White Tupac” afterwards, and I said, “Nuh uh, I’m the white, black Tupac.” Oirree! Or Erray! However muhfuckas spell it or say it these days. It’s all relly. The Curator flipped me the bird for the entire show like he did all the other acts, so I kneed his skull during “Fuck You Style.” At this point we were pretty certain that the Hemlock would never have us back again. The Hemlock’s cliquey snob hipster regulars (okay that’s being mean, just put it this way they aren’t drunk shameless hicks that we all are and love) were a little geeked but outbreaks were minimal until Six Feet Deep took the stage after I told Thug E. Fresh, “I remember when your first Gurp came out!” Highlights of their fully blacked-out set: “I Was So Drunk Last Night,” “40 Love” (with Wordsmith from Strangeface cold stupid in Marz’s forty ounce costume that somehow made it over to the club from the art show) with Hardcore Jerry looking like Artemis Pyle after the crash, the song that goes “I’m drunk, how drunk?, so damn drunk…” (the Thugster really murdered that one), Dwarves’ front man Blag showed up and left with Hewho’s guitar, the cover of the Keak Da Sneak/Shadow cut where they changed the chorus to “We need drinks!” realizing that Fay Dog kinda has a sick accent, oh yeah, and when the 300-pound Samoan-lookin’ dude slapped the shit out of Thug E. Fresh’s girlfriend’s blond sister, Mandy… okay, that was actually probably a lowlight; it made me queasy… and wait, I think that actually happened right after the MC Oroville/Serial Gawkers set which up till now I had forgotten about completely. It’s not that it was forgettable you dicks, it’s just that I was fucking drunk and on pot just like everybody else. Well, maybe not as drunk as Fay. Buffy came running up to Conceit and told him about the slapping and how she got spit on or something, and I said to Conceit, “Trust me, don’t sweat it dog,” and he’s like, “Trust me, I’m not,” and then Conceit saw dude and decided he was gonna have to round up the National Guard (big ups to Max and whoever acted hard; I was at the bar requesting an extremely intricate cocktail that took a long ass time for the bartender to make or else I woulda been right next to y’all, I swear). Serial Gawkers and Oroville played right after or before the Strangeface crew, whatever. Gawker Facials filled a sock with the leftover toothpaste from Gorgeous’ set, but I don’t know what he did with it. I remember finding it on stage during Game Tight Electro and throwing it into the crowd (I think?). Oroville played all his classics that kept the party pumped as fuck. “Meth till Death,” “5 Chickens,” and “Pussy on my Beard” all sounded country as fuck. The last song that Serial Gawkers did was the shit too. I’m finally startin’ to notice that Corey and E can really fuckin’ rap, and that’s not just ‘cause Corey is my ace at the Synthesis now (get me a whole page though relly!). Anyway, by the end of the Six Feet Deep show the stage was covered with broken glass, broken records, dum-dums, toothpaste, Gurp Jesus’ fluid, and the crowd was ready to let all hell break loose. The yellow bus piñata was busted up to the side of the stage, and Marz’s redheaded homegirl with the ghetto/trailer fly gear on was now rocking the forty ounce costume. Eddie K’s crew came up lookin’ hella turf and ushered her off pretty damn quick. And then we all looked to the stage and were amazed to see muthaphukkin’ Baldhead Rick, of UNLV and Ill Mannered Posse fame, about to be Eddie K’s hypeman! Muhfukkin’ Baldhead Rick! Cougnut’s brother and shit! I’ll be honest, I didn’t even know the brother was in the building until that moment, but I got ready to cause a ruck. Right then and there, I made a promise to myself to lose my shit. And I knew my rellies were wit me. I looked to my right and saw Hardcore Jerry lookin’ like Tex Cobb in Fletch II. I looked to my left and Thug E. Fresh was grillin’ me with his Puerto Rican ass fronts. I looked to the front row and saw a girl I didn’t know dancing with a girl I bagged back in P.A. like eight years ago. The First Lady came up and threw a bow to my neck. The floor was slippery as fuck. I was wondering if the Curator was gonna flip off Baldhead Rick and feel the wrath of Lakeview, hoping actually. Eddie K’s brother was in the house (it’s reported he gave Six Feet Deep props for their set, “Y’all got it hyphy for Eddie K!” or something of that nature), and so was the world famous Bizzy Ranks. DJ Quest came out cuttin’ it the fuck up until some dumb bitch bumped his table during a crucial part of his solo, and Eddie K hit the stage in a throwback Fila fit with an all-white Frisco fitted on top. Ed had Quest play snippets from the new “Gurpology 101” album, and then said, “I just wanted to play y’all that shit, so that when you hear that shit on the radio you’ll know:” then Quest let “SF Hyphy” fly with the “Ohhh, the Bay is back!” And the greatest beat G-Pek ever made came out grindin’ like motherfuckin’ helicopter gunship. That song is gonna be the slap of the year, I swear! The crowd, which had the backroom of the Hemlock packed by then, went absolutely ape shit. People were acting a fool. I remember looking in the corner and seeing Oroville banging his head right above his shorty’s banging head. And Govinda still ain’t checkin’ for nobody. Right when Baldhead went into the sick ass chorus, I saw G-Pek just standing around with this huge grin on his gurpy face watching approximately 100 retarded gurpos performing black out rituals to his hard ass arrangement, and so I punched him in the chest and said, “I know you’re proud motherfucker!” He just smiled and I could tell he was ridin’ the ferry boat to Gurp City, double O, on one (he apparently didn’t make it home with his record bag that night even though on the way out the door at the end of the night I said to him, “Don’t you need to get your shit?” and he said, “Oh yeah, will you go get that for me?” and I’m like, “No.”). Eddie K ripped through all of his soon-to-be Bay classics, and the energy never waned. At one point, Baldhead Rick schooled us all on how Ed’s been down with UNLV, IMP, Cougnut, and him since like the dawn of time, assuming that we weren’t already hip to that newsflash. Shit, Ed’s been braggin’ about that shit for years. Conceit came up looking like a dead man (apparently he had had a couple of drinks since his last appearance on stage), but cold ripped his verse like vet anyway. All in all, to put it short: 88 killed shit, blud. Even if he didn’t play “Ghetto Stash.” It reminded me of the energy he had that time he showed up late for one of our shows with Space Travelers at Bottom of the Hill, still rockin’ all his Fed Ex gear including weight-belt, fresh off the job, stepped into the club, walked directly to the stage, picked up the mic, and just let the crowd have it. Ohhh! Your boy is back! A lot of the crowd had to chill after that, but Game Tight Electro was ready to pop. The true gurp heads soldiered through and were well rewarded. It all jumped off as Brandon B banged out his verse from “Hogs of Rap” proving that he loves this rap crap more than any of y’all fuckers. Rap crap and weed smoke! This is Andy’s dad. Fluid was fully plugged in to every beat they threw at him, and Mr. Rwang (fresh off receiving his Gurp City University diploma for a bachelor’s degree in black out) was decked out in an all white fit. Their dopest song was “Can I Borrow Some Sugar” produced by Vrse Murphy. But then “Really Strong Drinks” came on and the gurp stragglers turned it on nutso again. I forgot my lyrics, but it didn’t matter ‘cause they had the vocal version going, so I just threw the mic down and jumped back into the crowd to do the chorus with them. The Mayor stepped up and bravely tried to spit Z’s verse but lost it after about line four. Mark my words though, that Mayor guy’s gonna put out a CDR one day; I’m takin’ bets. Anthony, if we’re gonna keep letting you on stage, go to Starving Musician right now and buy a Dr. Sample, a Tascam Porta 02, and a plastic mic, or get Garage Band 2 for your Mac, you yuppie! That’ll light a fire under his ass. So, I don’t really remember how it all ended. I remember being backstage when Thug E. Fresh sneezed, and his fronts flew out of his mouth, and he was so blind drunk that he didn’t see where they had went. Boac stopped all the action and said, “Everybody freeze, my man has just lost his fronts, look around and see if you see them.” Baldhead was back there and he said, “How many is it? Four?” and Thug E. replied, “Naw, the top eight,” and Baldhead went like damn ‘cause he only had the lower four, and actually helped EJ look for his shit. I mean it’s not like he was on the floor or nothin’, but it was hella down to earth of him to help out a drunk retard like the one they call Thug E. Fresh. I know Boac had some house party we could’ve gone to. And I remember EJ’s girlfriend’s sister, Mandy, putting on one of the Armada’s shirts and holding her boobs for Handsome’s perusal, thinking to myself didn’t she just get slapped like two hours ago? Then I noticed she had one of Eddie K’s Gurpology 101 limited edition samplers in her purse, and she agreed to give it to me as long as I gave her props on her myspace page. So, I bumped that shit all the way home down the Penninsula to Palo Alto while Nate Nitty slept like a gay-wad. I thought about all the hot broads I saw that night that I wasn’t gettin’ at and seriously felt like killing Nate. In the end, I let him live, but blamed the disappearance of Hewho on him anyway. Big cigars to DJ Marz, the underage grandfather made the mutherfucker happen! Next time strippers at the art show. Sorry Z-Man (who called during the show from Sac on tour with OBR and sounded sad he wasn’t with us, but I was like rubbing it in saying shit like, “Six Feet Deep just did the best show of their life and Ed’s about to rip it.” I’m such a dick.) Sorry Topr. I’m sorry both you guys have to read this here and you weren’t there to witness it first hand. You are both integral parts of this shit and therefore were sorely missed, but everybody in Gurp City knows that girls and jobs come first. Frrrnt! In the immortal words of Bizzy Ranks, “OGz!” Two fly ass young girls were standing outside next to Bizzy after last call, he was desperately trying to spark conversation, but all I heard them say was, “Did you just say your name was Gurp City?”
Love, Luke Sick

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