Young transplants and natives alike would rather hear old tall tales than experience anything near it firsthand distinct from nostalgia, it's more like moving into a home where a murder occurred. The lawlessness it describes-robberies at gunpoint on the A train, open-air hand-to-hand crack deals on Fulton St., shootouts with the NYPD-land unfathomably to most New Yorkers today. But the shift has fossilized a certain kind of rap album, like The Notorious B.I.G.’s debut Ready to Die, released in 1994. This is undoubtedly a good thing-entrepreneurial city teens today hustle fashion trends to ogling editors instead of baggies to scraggly addicts. Sure, there are bike messengers that peddle weed packed in plastic jars and Russian mobsters who launder money through Coney Island auto-shops, but the kind of trap-house, dope-boy, Robin Hood archetype that still carries in cities like Atlanta has been wiped clean from tri-state folklore.
New York City doesn’t sell drugs anymore.
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