110 S Horton
Seattle, WA 98134
I got hip to Anthony "Rappin' 4-Tay" Forté one fall day years back, walking up Alaska from Rainier Avenue, a funeral home on one side of the street, a library on the other. "It's the dank season," he rapped, "for 1994"—which it certainly was. 4-Tay's Fillmore fly shit was vetted by no less a personage than Too Short, when he debuted on the 1988 classic Life Is... Too Short. 4-Tay's brightest light came in '94, when he suavely flexed that he was "just working [his] toes on a mink rug" on the Bay Area classic "Playaz Club"—on which even Seattle got a shout. Gold herringbones, pressed-out curls, crisp fedoras—this was just pimp shit as I knew it even since I was a kid, hanging by the bar while my mother poured drinks for cats named "Shug," "Joe T," and "Eddie Chin, the ho's best friend." With Deadly Poets, Jailbird and Scott Free. LARRY MIZELL JR.