Forgot About D.O.C.

The D.O.C. is ready to take on the world. And he's bringing Dallas with him.

For now, though, the focus is on the music, and D.O.C. can't say enough about the talent he has surrounded himself with. Fort Worth's Six-Two has already had a coming-out party, of sorts, appearing on two tracks on Dr. Dre's Chronic 2001 disc. But that was just a taste. D.O.C. thinks--no, he knows--that when Deuce hits stores, they will be in the position he was in back in 1989.

"Six-Two and Uptight? These guys are the future, kid," he says. "I haven't really even gotten off into their material yet. I got about three or four songs for Six-Two that nobody has really heard yet, and this guy says some shit that'll fuck you up. I ain't heard no niggas say the kind of shit that this guy is saying and the way he's saying it. This guy is great. And I look forward to Uptight being a real force in this industry. He's got that kind of persona."

But will it be enough to finally, after decades of false starts and broken promises, make Dallas-Fort Worth a viable commodity in the hip-hop community? Will Silverback do for D-FW what Cash Money and No Limit did for New Orleans, or Rap-A-Lot did for Houston?

Bustin' rhymes: With his new album, The D.O.C. is in the last stretch of a long road back.
Jonathan Mannion
Bustin' rhymes: With his new album, The D.O.C. is in the last stretch of a long road back.


Part of the North Texas New Music Festival, November 17
Main Street Internet

"Ah, I hope so," D.O.C. says. "I think it will, because Six-Two is pretty much the best in the business right now. Without a doubt. He's the new school, and it'll only take America one time to hear this guy to be like, 'Yep. He's the man.' I look for his shit to go like bam! Which is cool. I'm used to it. I don't know how it's going to affect my young soldiers, but hopefully, they can learn from all my fuck-ups." He then delivers the line that is something of his motto now: "We can get it right this time."

D.O.C. turns to the stereo and begins playing Deuce again, bobbing his head and mouthing along as his newfound voice coasts on top of a sample of the Eagles' "Hotel California." Then he turns to the window again, looking out on the concrete canyons and asphalt arteries of his home.

"We're back!" he yells, arms raised in triumph above his head. "We're back!"

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