Hammered

Unfortunately, the early '90s were not very good years for people who were pained by MC Hammer's success. If Kevin wanted some kind of satisfaction from Hammer, he would have to stand in line.

By 1993, holes were beginning to appear in Hammer's well-thought-out pop facade. Stories of disgruntled partners, unpaid loans, and even worse began to surface, and lawsuits began to circle the megalomaniacal rapper. In 1991, fans in New York and Mississippi claimed that they'd been beaten by his security guards and filed suit. Not long afterward, his two buddies from the Athletics--Mike Davis and Dwayne Murphy--sued him for failing to honor the contract he had signed when they advanced him his seed money; eventually, they settled out of court. "I just never understood it," Murphy told the Atlanta Journal and Constitution. "The time he asked for the money, he called us, talked to us all the time. After he got out there in public, it was like, 'Forget you guys.'" In the first part of 1992, another investor, this one an old Navy buddy, sued, claiming that he had also advanced Hammer money--$5,000 in this case--to get the rapper started; he had also received nothing.

It seemed unusual for anyone who had done business with Hammer to be left with any emotions save rage, disappointment, and disgust. In 1992, Hammer's former manager James Earley sued him, claiming Hammer had shorted him millions in royalties. That same year, a former Hammer employee sued, alleging she was gang-raped by members of his entourage after the 1990 Grammys.

Hammer's brief, shining moment of pop cachet was fading fast. His "U Can't Touch This," with its shameless Rick James "Superfreak" lift--a lift that prompted James to threaten suit until he was cut in on the songwriting credits and money--was the No. 1 single for 11 excruciating weeks. Hammer was considered one of the worst offenders of sampling--the taking of snippets of other songs and either weaving them together or imbedding them in a new tune. Many artists have used sampling in creative and ethical ways, but Hammer was the guy who could be counted on to take things too far. Often, he borrowed so much of a song that he had to give the original writers like James credit and money: In addition to "U Can't Touch This," there was "Pray," which takes from Prince's "When Doves Cry"; "It's All Good," cribbed from Brick's "Dusic"; "Oak Town," which hit Prince again, this time from "Get It Up"; "Don't Stop," which Xeroxed the Gap Band's "Shake"; and "Pumps and a Bump," which borrowed liberally from George Clinton's "Atomic Dog." Other creative loans came from the Chi-Lites, the Jackson Five, and Marvin Gaye.

His habit of plundering other songs to build the foundations of his own cost him most of his creative credibility, and what little remained was erased by the Mattel doll, the endorsements, the cartoon show, and his straight-arrow message.

His community angle--visiting schools, giving speeches--dissipated in the face of his extravagant lifestyle. As Hammer hobnobbed with fast-trackers, made single $200,000 bets with Carl Icahn, cavorted on the sidelines of NFL games, and took batting practice with major-league teams, he seemed more and more another rich jerk rather than a man of the streets done good. Mattel's Hammer doll--which once was part of the Barbie's Celebrity Friends line--was dropped from the guest list at the Dream House.

In 1994, Hammer released The Funky Headhunter, in which he tried to cop a meaner, more streetwise style. Unfortunately, his earlier PR efforts had been too effective; his puffy-legged, rappin' Aladdin image just made his new attempts to play hardball look silly. Hammer's sales had been falling off since 1992, but with Headhunter, they plunged. Amazingly, the money stream was drying up.

In April 1996, Hammer declared bankruptcy, citing assets of $9.6 million and debts of $13.7 million. He blamed his fall on many things, most ludicrously on his own personal urban-renewal plan, in which he tried to get money flowing back to the 'hood by hiring homeboys for $50 grand a year--paying pals to do nothing while the folks who actually delivered goods and services went begging. Among Hammer's creditors were his former lawyers (almost half a mil), Dallas Cowboy Deion Sanders, who had personally loaned Hammer $500,000 (at the time, Hammer explained that he didn't want to go through "all the red tape" of a bank loan), and the IRS ($100,000). All in all, creditors had 20 lawsuits pending against Hammer.

Counted among them was one brought by a naive singer who was still trying to find himself: Kevin Abdullah.

By early 1992, Kevin felt he had little choice but to start talking to lawyers. But the prospect of going up against what would undoubtedly be the best attorneys money could buy must have been daunting to the ones he spoke with, and Kevin had few takers. "I couldn't get a lawyer to listen to me," he says. "Let alone take my case."