Mausberg (1979 – 2000), real name Johnny Burns, was a rapper from Compton, California who was discovered by Bompton legend DJ Quik. He was known as member of the Campanella Park Blood gang (tha Nellaz), located in Compton. He appeared on some of Quik's earlier work, many remember him for his appearance on the single "Down, Down, Down" from the album Rhythm-al-ism in 1998. He teamed up with DJ Quik, Suga Free and many other West Coast artists to record a compilation called The Konnectid Project in 1999. He made several guest appearances, most notably on Snoop Dogg's No Limit Top Dogg album on the track "Don't Tell" produced by DJ Quik also featuring Warren G and Nate Dogg. On July 4, 2000, Mausberg was shot to death in his own Hood. He was only 21 years old. His album, Non Fiction, was released later on through Sheppard Lane Records.
Mausberg's Last Words! (Rap Pages Interview 2000 Aug/Sept)
Too Real To Live
LOS ANGELES: SUMMER 2000
The eye of the hurricane. According to a frightening number of people, civilization was to supposed to have come crashing down this year. Hence for a couple of months thereafter the sun shined brighter, the weed got us higher and L.A. prepared for the kind of summer that made folks move to the middle of the desert in the first place. The Murder rate continued to decline. The Lakers brought the Championship home. and of course, just when cats started getting comfortable enough to venture into those neighborhoods that were only a few miles apart but seemed light years away, shit jumped off again. The drive-bys, the walk-bys, a body on 98th St., another on 104th, 2 on 188th. Then Police Chief Bernard Park's Grand Daughter caught a bad one, and it was official. we're living on extra credit now, so L.A.'s thug representatives are taking the streets back to 1989.
In the midst of this, Jamaa Fanaka, a writer for the Los Angeles Sentinel, the city's premier African-American newspaper, comes upon the idea of the "Meet the Sheriff Day Picnic", an opportunity for Angelenos to meet the human beings behind the badges. Los Angeles Sheriff Lee Baca pledges his support along with Coca-Cola, Dryer's Ice Cream and a host of local businesses. At this point Fanaka could easily go to sleep on the night of Jun 24th content, but he realizes that the demographic he's trying to reach, namely L.A.'s youth, need an incentive to show up, especially when they're more used to police patting them down than shaking their hands. He connects with RAP PAGES (Now Defunct), who persuade Carson's Boo-Yaa Tribe, DJ Quick and the Konnectid Project to come through. The 24th rolls around and everything goes like clock work. Baca and Quik both give speeches. Baca pins a Sheriffs Badge on Quik. Quik invites Baca to the studio. Police and Rappers pose in unity as cameras flicker. A tall, bulky, Coal-Black individual looms in the background making the pictures heavier, MAUSBERG THA SUPERIOR.
********************************************************
"We need you to interview Mausberg", the words echoed through the phone into my head. "Do you know who he is?" Loving Gangsta shit as much as I do, I'm extra critical of it, and Mausberg happened to be one of the two new West Coast acts I considered worth their weight, so the prospect of interviewing the man behind the booming baritone actually sounded like fun. a few people last week alone had mentioned this new rapper "with the name after the gun" and whenever "Shut Up" hit the airwaves I would crank up my blown out car stereo system until distorted highs made paint peel and dogs whimper for three square blocks. Lyrically, Mausberg keeps it Gangsta, but delivery wise he walks a thin line between Gangsta and Underground with a voice so heavy that he could rap in front of a wet plaster cast and watch his words sink in. "Yeah, I was Down..."
**********************************************************
It's almost a shame that my Nigga never made it into a cigarette commercial before they were banned, because Mausberg with a smoke is like popeye with a can of spinach. Each bottomless puff seems to energize him more as he punks the tape recorder. The good people at Sheppard Lane Records listen on with that look on their faces like they've heard this whole tirade before, but it's no less entertaining than it was the very first time they ran into Mausberg on their mutual stomping grounds of Compton, a far cry from the antiseptic Tarzana office building where Sheppard Lane records conducts business from. Chubs and Tone, the president and CEO of Sheppard Lane records respectively, are calm, good natured, jovial kinds of guys, and their tall, stocky frames and Gangsta demeanors make most people wanna keep them just like that. They are the cats that make things happen at Sheppard Lane. Together they step through the small, manicured office like bulls tipping through a china shop, as does all six foot four and 350 pounds of Mausberg. DJ Quik, Hi-C, Suga Free and newcomers like GP and Madd Nation also call Sheppard Lane Home, and home is definitely where the heart is in this case. Sheppard Lane records considers itself a family, bonded by the past, their lives on the streets and the dream they have carved out for themselves. Five minutes in their presence is enough to deduce that they are still deep in the streets, but business is undoubtedly the number one priority here.
"The way I got into music was through street affliliations", says Mausberg as he sucks the life out of yet another cigarette. "They brought me into they family. Hi-C, DJ Quik, Second II None, Suga Free... If it wasn't for me doing the fucking up that I was doing, I wouldn't have met the people who knew Tony Lane or Stan Sheppard or the homie Ramsey. I was never blessed to just naturally be around people in the music. I made it work for myself".
Mausberg has always been on his own agenda, even back when he was a youngsta making his way through Compton's convoluted school system. "I was always a big boned Muthafucka, always the biggest Nigga in the class. I had a gang of Niggas that wanted to be down with me because I don't take no shit. and it's still like that." indeed; when Mausberg speaks, everyone within earshot listens. He is one of the last cowboys - he calls it exactly how he sees it, and doesn't give an inch. "Whatever I do, I do it to the fullest. I don't half step on shit," he deadpans. "I used to take tha Homies in the Hood (Tha Nellaz) for they money in a dice game, and I'd go to the studio with it. I used to have my raps written with no Beat. I would just tell the Nigga at the studio what kind of sound I liked. Used to do like three songs in eight hours. I had a whole album on CD. When I came to them I came with masters, I owned everything. They were looking at me like 'this Nigga is seventeen years old! He got his shit together.'"
Quik promptly threw Mausberg into his production loop, kicking off his career off with "Down, Down, Down," which served as an introduction to Mausberg's rugged, low key style. His mainstream notoriety compounded thanks to songs with the likes of Snoop Dogg, R Kelly, and the Konnectid Project that was an album showcasing most of the Sheppard Lane roster. "Shut Up" was one of the singles featured. As with everything else he does, the inspiration is realism. "I'm a Gangsta that kicks reality. Being a Gangsta is in the heart. It ain't the cloths you wear. It ain't in the lingo you say. A Gangsta isn't necessarily a Gangbanger. A Gangsta is a real Muthafucka that will handle his business at the drop of a dime. I rap about party shit, shit I been through with my Mama, drugs, losing my Homies. I rap about black steel toes and Polo T-Shirts. I hold grudges.... " he booms starring at me flatly, letting that statement hang in the air with the smoke before continuing.
"I'm ready to set big footprints so the lil homies can follow. A lot of Muthafuckas are setting bad examples. Youngstas are listening to us. Them kids love us, regardless of what we think. We don't hang with kids. We do our own thing, we don't know whats going through their minds." His cigarette has grown a nice head of ash since this topic came up - Mausberg is amped now. "They listen to our shit while we're at the club partying, not even thinking about the khakis or the pistols or the chucks. We're at the club in silk and linen with boots on, having a good time, while the niggas that bought our CD's is still in tha Ghetto, possessed off what we just said!"
Mausberg knows firsthand about being possessed by the power of the flow. "That first Chronic album was what got me amped on this rap shit," he says. "I started jotting shit down, and Muthafuckas would tell me, 'man, you need to be more serious about that shit.' I just started doing it after I saw how much money Muthafuckas was making. I could have played football or baseball, but I chose rapping for the money and the money only. I love music, but thats not why I do it. The music is gonna buy me a house, buy my family they shit," he says in a tone that could almost be considered tender.
"God gon' have shit the way he want it. I didn't get my deal until the year I was supposed to graduate. God blessed me like that because he saw that I wasn't dedicated to school but I was dedicated to something other than fucking up in the streets. God put you though shit to get where you going. Fuck the past," he exclaims firmly. "I'm where I'm at now. I don't regret shit. I was doing that shit because I liked it. But it came to a point where something had to change. I'm getting grown. I got to think about how I'm going to feed myself. I like to eat!" he snorts, patting his boulder of a belly. Indeed, the significance of his frame is not lost on him. "We lost two big soldiers. Biggie Smalls and Big Pun were big brothers. Straight Soliders. God came and got'em so now it's time for another big brother to step in their place."
Wildly enough, few contest such camparisons that when made with almost any other rapper, would almost certainly get shot out of the sky. Sheppard Lane and most anyone who hears him understands the huge potential this mere 21-year old weilds. Just don't expect Mausberg to step out of character when he steps into the big leagues. "I still live in Compton," he says proudly. "There's a mansion in my Hood that I'm gonna buy, that a doctor fucked off. I don't have to go nowhere else to buy a Mansion. A lot of Niggas ain't never had no respect (In they own Hood). They get repect because of the music business. I was respected in tha Hood (tha Nellaz) before this shit. I'm comfortable in my city. I got hit songs, and I'm still there." For the first time in our conversation, he trails off, staring at the hills that separate the valley suburbs that seem to small to support him from the Compton streets that raised him. "I'm just out here living my life, being happy".
Written By James Dunn
Edited by Tha BossMack TopSoil
Tha Big Homie T-Tone Speaking on Mausberg In Tha Nellas.
