T.I. is not supposed to be here.
He’s not supposed to be on the cover of this magazine. He’s not supposed to be on MTV every Tuesday night subjecting at-risk teens shock treatment on his new series, T.I.’s Road to Redemption. He’s not supposed to be on the road doing shows to promote his blockbuster sixth album, Paper Trail (Grand Hustle/Atlantic, 2008). He’s not supposed to be shooting a video with Justin Timberlake for Paper Trail’s “Dead and Gone.” He’s not supposed to be at Sundancediscussing upcoming movie projects over dinner at Ruth’s Chris Steak House. He’s not supposed to be spearheading voting drives or voting for the first time in his life, as he did on October 28, 2008. He’s not supposed to be in the delivery room as his longtime girlfriend-turned-fiancée,Tameka “Tiny” Cottle, 33, gives birth to the couple’s second son, Major Philant Harris. He’s not supposed to be launching a clothingline. He’s not supposed to be on the witness stand in Cincinnati in November, giving crucial evidence to help convict Hosea Thomas of the 2006 murder of T.I.’s childhood best friend, Philant “Big Phil” Johnson. Hell, to hear some tell it, Clifford “T.I.” Harris Jr., 28, is not even supposed to be walking the earth.
And he’s certainly not supposed to be here, seated in the front row Washington, D.C.’s Harman Center for the Arts, on the eve of Barack Obama’s inauguration, impeccable in a black Armani tux with a white boutonniere, a bow tie tucked under the collar of his ruffled black Brioni shirt, surrounded by friends, with Tiny at his side.
But here he is. And after award presentations to Bow Wow, Cool J, MC Lyte, Hip Hop Caucus President and CEO Rev. Lennox
Yearwood, and Young Jeezy, a comedic interlude by Dick Gregory, and a brief introduction by Warner Music Group Executive Vice President Kevin Liles, T.I. takes the stage to accept his Get Out the Vote Award. “What You Know” bangs over the auditorium’s PA system as he makes his way to the podium to thank any and everyone who’s helped him be right here. There’s the Hip-Hop Summit Action Network, the Hip Hop Caucus, Liles, Russell Simmons, his mother, Tameka (“the love of my life”), and even, to scattered laughter, “the U.S. Government…the U.S. attorneys who prosecuted me in my case...real talk.” And God.
“A lot of times, man…when we go through things and people remember all the bad stuff you do and totally wipe away all the good you do,” he says calmly, the crystal award gripped tightly in his right hand. “But I’m here to tell you that God is good.” The crowd cheers.
I’m here to serve God’s will. I want to thank God for all the times, the good times and the bad. I want to thank God for somehow...” He pauses briefly. “I know He perfect, so I’ma thank Him for everything. I’ma thank Him for making me drop out of school, I’ma thank Him for makin’ me run the streets, I’ma thank Him for makin’ me sell crack, I’ma thank Him for makin’ me have shoot-outs….” His voice grows intensity and a scowl creeps over his face. He punctuates every line with a wave of the award. “I’ma thank Him for allowing me to watch my partna’ die in my arms so I’d be fearful enough for my life and paranoid enough to go out and cop machine guns and silencers so I’d catch fed case again and I’d put up $3 million for my bond; so I’d have to give up [five] months of my life, in my house; so I could spend a year of my life in prison, just so I’d be validated enough to get out there and touch the youth because they know I done been through it—and if I say it, it means something!” The crowd erupts in applause. Maybe, just maybe, T.I. was supposed to be here after all.
READ THE ENTIRE STORY IN VIBE'S APRIL '09 ISSUE, ON NEWSSTANDS EVERYWHERE, MARCH 24
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