From Gangster Rappers to Officers of the Law: The Curious Case of Ice-T and Ice Cube

What happens to gangster rappers when their careers die? This question has been circling in my mind lately. Everytime I see a Law & Order commercial, I find myself puzzling at Ice-T’s long standing role on the show. He has played a cop on Law & Order: Special Victims Unit for 18 years. That’s only one year short of his music career. As I’ve been working on a chapter for my book on the relationship between the streets and popular culture, I’ve realized that more than one former gangster rapper has gone from performing politically charged lyrics to playing a cop on television or in the movies. This strikes me as paradoxical given these rappers’ historic role in challenging police authority through their music.

Rappers moving from musical performance to television and film is not new, nor is it unique to Ice-T. Hip hop artists from LL Cool J to Ludacris have all managed to transition from radio stations to mainstream America’s screens. What is rather jarring though, is the way that artists known for their explicit critiques of the police and articulations of gang life have moved from the role of marginal outsider to mainstream authority. I am not necessarily surprised that someone like LL Cool J now plays an NCIS agent and former Navy SEAL. Lyrically, he has always avoided themes of drugs and violence. However, figures like Ice-T and Ice Cube represent a whole different thing altogether (If you’re curious about the similarity of their names, they both chose them in homage to author Iceberg Slim).

Despite his current sanitized image, Ice-T is known for producing albums like O.G. Gangster, one of the pioneering examples of gangster rap. He is also known for writing a song for heavy metal band Body Count called “Cop Killer.” The song was controversial not only for its explicitly violent message, but also for its use of a first person narrative to articulate the desire to kill cops in retribution for police brutality. While Ice-T later backtracked on his defense of the song, eventually having it removed from the album before it was re-released, the content illustrates his concern over racial tensions and police brutality. Specifically, the way Ice-T invokes the Rodney King beatings frames the song as a little more than just an angry rant. Moreover, anyone familiar with the genre of heavy metal knows that violent imagery is not rare.

Still, however politically relevant the song may have been, it is hard to digest that someone who once wrote the words “COP KILLER, better you than me / COP KILLER, fuck police brutality! / COP KILLER, I know your family's grievin' ... FUCK 'EM! / COP KILLER, but tonight we get even” is now playing an officer of the law on TV.

While slightly less controversial, Ice Cube is equally known for his career as a pioneer of west coast gangster rap. Throughout the 1980s Ice Cube wrote for and performed with N.W.A. Known for albums like AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted, N.W.A. synthesized urban realism and socio-political critiques in their music. Most famously, N.W.A. wrote the 1980s anti-police brutality anthem, “Fuck tha Police.” Despite the explicit language, the lyrics of this song are much more about the experience of police violence and racial profiling than anything else. Still, the song was controversial enough to garner the attention of the FBI, who wrote a letter against it to N.W.A.’s record label.

Unlike Ice-T, Ice Cube’s crossover to mainstream film followed a more logical trajectory. He began his movie career by starring in Boyz N the Hood in 1991. He then went on the write and star in the Friday franchise and the Barbershop movies. In 2005, Ice Cube joined the cast of the XXX films, playing former Navy SEAL/current spy Darius Stone. Even in this film though, his character rides the line between law abiding patriot and rebel. His participation in the spy program is due in part to him having to serve a 20 year sentence for assaulting the Secretary of Defense. Although his record is wiped clean and he is praised as a hero by the end of the film, his origin story frames him as an unconventional public servant. After testing the waters in the XXX films, Ice Cube finally crossed over to mainstream authority figure in the 2014 buddy cop movie, Ride Along. The film revolves around Kevin Hart’s character, Ben, riding along with police officer and family man, James (Ice Cube). Ice Cube not only played the role of officer-hero, but his company, Cube Vision, also helped produce the film.

It would be easy to chalk up Ice-T’s and Ice Cube’s transition from gangster rappers to fictitious officers of the law as a consequence of them getting older and more mature. However, this suggests that the root of their complaints, however polemic, does not hold long lasting relevance or validity. Clearly the language of murdering cops is not the best way to draw attention to issues of police brutality and racial profiling. Yet, from Rodney King to Antwon Rose, the issue of anti-black violence remains culturally significant, to say the least. This is, perhaps, where part of my discomfort with figures like Ice-T and Ice Cube lies. It is one thing to pursue a crossover career, but the choice to portray a cop isn’t one without political stakes.

It is somewhat unsettling to see those who were once known for their brash, counter cultural critiques of the police system now playing members of it. On one hand, this move seems to represent a disingenuous form of reconciliation. It supports a narrative of linear progress in which those who once had issue with the police in the 1980s and 1990s can now make their peace with them. One the other hand, their choices speak, at least in part, to the performativity of rap music itself. Ice-T, for example, realized that explicit songs about gang life were popular when his song “6 in the Mornin” became a hit. In order to capitalize on that success, he made more songs about LA gang life, while making sure to maintain lyrical and visual ambiguity with regard to which gangs he was talking about. Ice-T wore combinations of well-known gang colors to avoid explicit allegiances and ensure the wide consumption of his music. What Ice-T’s biography reveals is that figures like him are often performers first and foremost. In this sense, their decision to crossover makes sense. What makes less sense though, is that their politics are not allowed to crossover as well. Why aren’t there former rapper/actors who continue to represent their concern for black life in their roles? I realize these figures exist, but they are rarely in the mainstream. Members of the black community are still channeling the energy of N.W.A., but it seems like its leaders have left them behind.