Three Dog Might

When the 57th Street Rogue Dog Villians roll through the streets of Kansas City, people stop and stare. After all, it’s not the average band that bumps through town in a tricked-out Chevy van with gleaming 20-inch rims and ornate, bumper-to-bumper artwork.

“People love it,” says Txx Will with a grin. “They wave on the highway; they honk. People pull us over to sign autographs.”Area hip-hop fans tend to show a great deal of affection for the RDVs, who’ve become heroes in the local rap game. The band’s achievements are well-documented: The RDVs have performed everywhere from Las Vegas to East St. Louis and appeared on the pages of nearly every major hip-hop publication, including Source, Vibe and Murder Dogg. The outfit has also made a huge splash at home, with fans flocking to its shows and snatching up its discs by the tens of thousands. The group has an equal degree of fondness for KC, exemplified via vibrant Midtown anthems that celebrate and mythologize life in the 56th and Highland district. For this is where it began — these are the streets, the basements and the sweaty nightclubs that created and nurtured the RDVs. It is also here that the band has endured and overcome its harshest trials and tribulations.

The future Rogue Dogs were just young pups when they met as third graders at Troost Elementary. It was then that the fledgling entertainers were introduced to future affiliate Tech N9ne, who was looking to make a name for himself on the recess circuit.

“Me and my brothers were poppin’ and breakin’ back then — we were the best in the school,” Bakarii remembers fondly from his front porch, appropriately located on the 5700 block of a Midtown neighborhood. “When Tech got there, he must’ve busted a move on somebody, because by the time we got to the playground, the whole school was saying, ‘There’s a new dude here. He say he can beat you poppin’.’ So they take me to him and open up the crowd — Tech’s right there in the middle [and he] busts a move. The crowd’s like, ‘Ahh,’ but I got out there, did my thing and ate him up. From there on we became friends and started hangin’ around together.”

A few years and a few thousand verses later, Bakarii and Tech were still collaborating, first trading verses on the underground classic “Mitch Bade.” The pair eventually teamed with their former schoolmates Txx Will, Big Scoob and Lil’ Nitty to form the Rogue Dog Villians.

“We was trying to come up with a name,” Bakarii remembers. “And we were so bad, we would do so much shit, that the grown-ups would be hollerin’ at us: ‘Why y’all so roguish? Stop bein’ roguish out there.’ So we just said, ‘Fuck it; we’re the Rogue Dogs.'”

The RDVs debuted in 1998 with It’s on Now, which made a few waves and helped put the up-and-coming MCs on the map. But it was 1999’s Summer Edition that made the RDVs a household name from Topeka to Independence. Summer overflowed with spitfire rhymes and dome-crushing bubblefunk, including instant classics such as “Ride 2 Dis” and “Roll Out.” The effort also included the RDVs’ signature song, “Let’s Get Fucked Up,” which exploded into area clubs. The crunky edited version became a staple of local radio.

“The underground had been playing it for a good part of nine months before the radio even started playing it,” Will recalls. “So it was already an underground hit, but the radio came to us. At the time, we didn’t even have a clean version; I didn’t think we could do a clean version of ‘Let’s Get Fucked Up,’ but that’s what they wanted. We gave it to ’em, and they put it on the air. Then it was spinning in the clubs and on the radio, and you’d hear it all in the streets.”

Indeed, “Let’s Get Fucked Up,” was a ubiquitous hometown smash. For a time, one couldn’t spend ten minutes in any area club without hearing the track’s throbbing bass line and inviting hook: Let’s get high/Let’s get drunk. This achievement is the kind most bands only dream about, but the RDVs sagely considered it a launching-pad.

“There was a little satisfaction, but it was just a step,” Bakarii insists. “We took a big-ass step — some people don’t take that first big step — but we still got a hundred more giant steps to take.”

The track’s popularity also brought out a cavalcade of suit-wearing record company execs hoping to capitalize on the RDVs’ victory. The group met with a number of major labels but turned down all offers, opting instead to stick with its self-operated indie label, Hogstyle Records.

“We pioneered a market for this area when there wasn’t no market for that shit,” Bakarii says. “There wasn’t nobody buying local [rap]. They didn’t feel that they wanted to listen to it until Tech N9ne and the Rogue Dogs started puttin’ that shit down.”

“There’s people with music just as good as ours, but they weren’t workin’,” Will adds. “You didn’t see no promotion behind it. They didn’t make it larger than life. Music and recording and writing and all that is 10 percent; the other 90 is business you gotta take care of. You gotta be able to get your product out there, man. And that’s what we were able to do: We were able to get ‘Let’s Get Fucked Up’ playin’ in every club imaginable before the radio even played us. And a lot of people can’t do it. If you can’t get the club to play your music, can’t get DJs to play it, it’s not gonna go anywhere.”

Bakarii points out that business and pleasure do mingle from time to time. “We do party,” he says. “We do kick it like a motherfucker, don’t let there be no mistake, but there’s work too.”

The RDVs’ labor paid handsome dividends on its third album, My Dogs for Life. Even more boisterous than its predecessor, the effort underscored the individual strengths of the collective, with each member penning a solo track and plenty of guest spots from Tech N9ne, an ever-present force on each RDVs release.

“I think I bring more of a party element to it,” Will explains. “Big Scoob, he’s always gonna bring a street-hustler mentality to it. Bakarii, he’s gonna come aggressive.”

Unfortunately, distribution headaches kept My Dogs out of the limelight, and the disc quickly disappeared. The RDVs are determined to see that their latest opus, Roguish Ways, doesn’t suffer a similar fate. The album has already been given a push from industry heavyweight Violet Brown, who helped secure nationwide distribution through Wherehouse Music stores. The group is also eyeing other distribution routes and weighing the pros and cons of signing with a major label. But for now, the RDVs remain staunchly independent, even hand-delivering fresh product to local record stores when needed.

Fans who pick up Roguish Ways will be impressed with the group’s immensely improved production, which roars with the chaotic force of a hurricane. Listeners might also be struck by the absence of Nitty, who was charged last July with statutory rape and two counts of statutory sodomy. (The case is still pending.) The RDVs’ reluctance to feed the rumor mill has produced a persistent yet groundless report that Nitty took his life in prison. The group makes its feelings painfully clear on Roguish Ways.

“Everything we have to say about Nitty is on the album,” Will states firmly.

Roguish Ways‘ artwork imagines the RDVs as Mount Rushmore, with Bakarii, Scoob and Will staring stoically as Nitty’s visage lies crumbling and disgraced below. Though Nitty doesn’t appear anywhere else on Roguish Ways, the RDVs address the topic in typically blunt terms on a track named for their former bandmate. A fuckin’ pedophile and everybody in the hood knows him/Got me feelin’ more like death is too good for him,” Will vents venomously.

“That was a tragedy on both ends,” Bakarii says, searching for the right words. “As soon as he did that, the person that we knew — as our friend and partner and person we kick it with and be around and all our families know and our fans love — that person passed away. We’re all spiritual men and believe in God. If God can forgive, so can we, but at this point in time, there’s no forgiveness in us.”

The band has severed all ties with Nitty, and none of its members have spoken with him since his arrest. Though the RDVs were unsettled by the experience, they are eager to move forward and continue making music that shakes the streets of KC. The group also insists that weathering these recent storms has made it a stronger, more cohesive unit.

“We all had to step up to the plate,” Will explains. “We know everybody’s gonna be listening to see if there’s a difference. But every man on my team is a leader. From Tech to me, Big Scoob, Bakarii, we stand on our own. United we stand, divided we fall.”