November 11, 2008 @ 11:15 am

Guns And Roses

Benjamin Meadows-Ingram

Read the excerpt from VIBE’s December cover story

He’s that soldier from the streets with the arrogant, tough-boy attitude that mostly every girl wants

PLIES ISN’T WEARING A SHIRT. It’s not an uncommon look for him—shirt off, fitted cap pulled low or twisted to the back, and a Mardi Gras parade’s worth of chains wrapped around his neck and wrist. And tonight is no different.

Fresh off a seven-hour drive up from his home base in Tampa, Fla., Plies, born Algernod Lanier Washington, stands deep in the bowels of the North Charleston Coliseum in the South Carolina Stingrays locker room. His hat: a brown Atlanta Braves New Era. His shorts: camo Dickies. His kicks: brown Chuck Taylor All Stars. His chains: frosty Lucky Charms. He holds a 12- ounce Styrofoam cup of Hennessy VS ’n’ Coke.

Two bulky security guards, clad head-to-toe in khaki Dickies suits sit near the door. The scene is subdued. A knock at the door. “They waiting on me?” Plies asks. When the answer comes, Plies takes a sip of his drink and then flashes his gold grin. “Let’s go!”

In one motion, the guards rise and lead the way through the locker room door. Once in the main hall, four more guards immediately fall in, engulfing the 5-foot-7-inch Plies in the center of an intimidating khaki storm, barreling its way down a hall and into the arena.

First come the hands, reaching from all angles, through railings, above the door, on all sides, grasping for anything—an arm, the hat, the shorts, whatever. Then come the screams— hundreds of voices creating that sustained high- pitch cry that signals teenage girls in heat. A mic appears in Plies’ hand. The stage is ahead of him. Six steel steps later, the stage lights shine down bright and white. Neon glow-in-the-dark necklaces float in the crowd.

The beat to Plies’ street anthem, “Who Hotter Than Me,” begins to pound. Plies, alone, no hype man, rushes to the front of the stage, and then...the beat cuts out and Plies’ mic goes dead. He doesn’t make a scene. He doesn’t scream on anyone. He simply looks at the bottom of the wireless mic, notes the red light, flips the mic over and gives it another try. No dice. He returns to his place, off-stage, in the center of the khaki crew. He picks up his cup, takes another sip, and waits as the chants from the crowd grow.

“We want Plies! We Want Plies! WE WANT PLIES!!!”

THIS WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN. Not now. Not in 2008, with the music industry in shambles, and the rap game supposedly on its last legs. Sure, Lil Wayne, T.I., and Young Jeezy had banner years, but those are established stars, with established fan bases. Young Jeezy didn’t have to become famous all over again in order to sell 260,000-plus copies of The Recession (CTE/Def Jam, 2008) in its first week. But Plies? Who the fuck is Plies?

“He’s that soldier from the streets with the arrogant, tough-boy attitude that mostly every girl wants,” says Trina, who featured Plies on her 2005 album cut “So Fresh” from Glamorest Life (Slip-N-Slide/Atlantic). Jonathan “JR” Rotem, who produced his biggest hit to date, this year’s “Bust It Baby [Pt. 2],” considers him “the rap version of Jodeci.” Atlantic Records Chairman and CEO Craig Kallman calls him “a man of the people.” Nonnie Ekwu, a young woman from Texas, called him “my life jacket”—shortly before jumping 40 feet off a bridge into Dallas’ Lake Ray Hubbard to prove her devotion during his No. 1 Fan Contest. TJ’s DJs Record Pool impresario TJ Chapman, who watched Plies rise from the Florida underground scene describes his street movement “as similar to Jeezy.”

And in a widely circulated MTV News clip that aired in August, superproducer Timbaland said, “I look at Plies, he’s like 2Pac. He reminds me of 2Pac.”

Here’s what we do know: He’s 32. He’s from Fort Myers, Fla., a slip of a town that sits about two hours south of Tampa, tucked into a bend of the Caloosahatchee River, not too far from where it empties into the Gulf of Mexico. The local boys call it Lil’ Pakistan. He played receiver and defensive back at Fort Myers High School, where he was also crowned Homecoming King and named “Best Dressed” of his graduating class.

He briefly attended Miami University in Ohio to play basketball before transferring to the University of Central Florida his sophomore year. (He dropped out before completing his degree.) Former club promoter. Proud father of Nijier Lanier Washington, 5. Younger brother of Ronell Lawrence “Big Gates” Lavatte, the CEO of Plies’ label, Big Gates Records, who is currently serving two concurrent, three-year sentences at Coleman Federal Correctional Facility. Plies is complex.

Article tags: Plies, Young Jeezy, T.I.