Released: 1996

Features: Erick Sermon

Aight, let’s dive into Redman’s joint “Whateva Man,” featuring the funk lord Erick Sermon. This track is one of them laid-back, yet bouncy cuts that embodies the carefree attitude and raw humor that Red keeps it real with. It’s about rolling through life on your own terms, getting lifted, and just shrugging off the small stuff with a “whateva” mentality.

Now, peep this breakdown… The intro sets it off with some banter between the homies, signaling that it’s about to go down, no matter what it is – getting twisted, kicking it, doesn’t even matter. They’re just ready to wild out. The hook is slick with that nonchalant “Whateva man,” stamping their approach to whatever’s coming their way.

Red doesn’t mince his words when he starts spitting about how he rolls – smoking herbals till it’s past uncomfortable and keeping folks out late, much to their parents’ chagrin. He contrasts the hard, streetwise life with the more polished mainstream, reminding us that he’s too rugged to go soft or sell out. The reference to “doped out” land touches on both being high and representing an area recognized for potent cannabis.

Redman Whateva Man

When Red drops “I cock from the streets” he’s talking about sourcing his weed from the urban marketplace, specifically from Branson, a legendary Harlem figure known for quality product. He isn’t just ‘lighting it up’; he’s lighting up the scene, making a mark. The man’s wordplay bends your mind like extreme yoga poses, claiming heavy-hitter status with verses that can rock you into a state of shock. Catch the “chinky-eyed” bit? It’s slang for your eyes being barely open due to that high.

Now, you gotta understand that when Red talks about being the Funk Doctor, it’s not just about the vibe, it’s about his skill to revive and energize the scene, like defibrillators to the heart of hip-hop. He’s sending warnings to the weak systems out there – his sound’s gonna overwork them like labor laws don’t exist.

Through the verse, Redman checks pretenders, the ones frontin’ like they’re ready for the throwdown but ain’t really about that life. He gets personal when he clowns someone for hogging the blunt, bogarting when they should be passing it along. It’s all about keeping it moving, sharing the vibe. The “Furious Five” shout-out? Props to one of the original rap crews, connecting his skills with the legends who paved the way.

So, when the hook swings back around, “Whateva man,” it’s more than just a catchphrase; it’s the embodiment of their hustle and flow. They’re ready for anything: making dough, throwing hands, blazing up or getting turnt – it’s all the same to them.

Redman’s verse about smoking with college folks is a stark picture of realness versus aspiration – not everyone’s destined for caps and gowns, some know the street’s where they’ll graduate. He takes pride in his linguistic dexterity in “weed slang” and pledges allegiance to his Newark roots – where he’s been lighting it up since toddlerhood. He walks us through his evolution from a young buck catching fades to a full-grown mic wrecker, staying true to his crew PPP and their devil-may-care attitude.

The Emerald City ain’t got nothin’ on Redman’s world where not all that’s green is good. He sets rules: you gotta pitch in for the cypher, or you’re getting bounced. It’s all about contribution, whether to the session or the cipher. And that’s the real – if you can’t hang, step off.

See, “Whateva Man” isn’t just about being indifferent; it’s a testament to authenticity, resilience, and the unfazed attitude that Redman and Erick Sermon came to embody in the game. The cut’s got that unstudied cool, an anthem for those who live life on their own wavelength. Straight up, it’s a smooth yet rugged slice of that ’90s hip-hop, served up with a smirk and a cloud of smoke. Word is bond.