To Be Continued…
An annotated playlist of rap videos and their unrealized sequels
The following is excerpted from “To Be Continued…” an essay by Hanif Abdurraqib in Issue 126 of The Believer.
Subscriptions to The Believer and all other McSweeney’s publications are 20% off through August 2. Subscribe here to read more from our archive.
The golden era of the rap video stretched from the late ’80s all of the way into the early 2000s. Rap music was gaining momentum during the rise of music television, and as rap evolved, many shows began to cater specifically to the genre. Yo! MTV Raps and Rap City, for example, offered a space for rappers to be interviewed by people who looked like them and who understood the culture. Until that point, most critics had treated the genre with a type of odd fascination, as if it were a novelty. But these new shows took rap seriously. Rap videos began to flourish, particularly in the mid-’90s, and production budgets for music videos rose as the genre maintained a strong foothold within the American cultural conversation. Because of this, videos became more narrative based and began to resemble short films. Rappers took advantage of this creative space and financial support to build their ideal cinematic universes.
But there was the occasional hiccup with these projects. Sometimes the ambition of a storyteller would outweigh the time, space, or resources needed for a given story to unfold, and the music video would end with a “To Be Continued…” promise. More often than not, however, they didn’t deliver on a next chapter. Here is a look at some of these music videos, the unrelated videos that followed them, and the sequels that should have been.
The Lost Boyz—“Renee” (1996)
The video: Set in New York City, this video stars the Lost Boyz’ lead MC, Mr. Cheeks. During a store robbery, Renee—the love of Mr. Cheeks’s life—is shot and killed. When the news gets back to Cheeks, he goes in search of the killer and finds him in a public restroom, where he aims a gun at him. The killer begs for his life, and Mr. Cheeks weighs the moral conflict before starting to walk away. As he departs, the killer reaches into his jacket and pulls out his own gun. Cheeks turns around, the sound of a gunshot echoes, and the screen goes blank. Then a promise appears: “To Be Continued…”
What came next: The follow-up music video is a remix for the Lost Boyz’ next single, “Music Makes Me High.” It takes place at a pool party and features all of the standard pool party fare: women, large towels, drinks in plastic cups. Mr. Cheeks is alive and well, and in a celebratory mood. There is no mention of or gesture toward his dearly departed Renee, or of the bathroom situation he found himself in. One can imagine, perhaps, that the pool party is a celebration of his own survival.
What should’ve come next: The standoff scene involving two people pointing guns at each other is an old one—to say nothing of the fact that this particular standoff, as we left it, involved a public restroom in New York City, which wouldn’t have been the ideal atmosphere for much longer. I would love if, instead, Cheeks asked the killer to join him on a long and slow walk to Renee’s grave. The emotional tension would grow as the two of them made their way through the city. There would be no resolution, just Cheeks attempting to get the killer to reckon with what he’d done.
Hot Boys—“We on Fire” (1999)
The video: In the action-packed video, the Hot Boys (the Cash Money Records supergroup consisting of Turk, B.G., Juvenile, and an early-career Lil Wayne) attempt to evade the ATF by all means. First on foot, and then in a car, which speeds to an airport, where a plane is waiting for them. It is unclear why they are on the run—just that they have a lot of cash on hand and in hand. They wave stacks of cash out of the pulled-back roof of the car, driven by Mannie Fresh, who appears all too calm for someone trying to escape the law. By the end of it all, it seems, their foes have caught up to them: the video ends with the ATF officers in cars surrounding the Hot Boys and their waiting plane. But it cuts off before we learn their fate, promising another installment.
What came next: The next single to get a music video off the 1999 album Guerrilla Warfare was “I Need a Hot Girl,” which is essentially an ad for a Hot Boys car wash that is, it seems, on fire. Literally on fire, yes, but in a good and unintimidating way, and not the threatening way one might be accustomed to. It appears the video is shot in a landscape similar to the one in “We on Fire,” so it seems the plane either never took off or never took them anywhere.
What should’ve come next: Since the first video covered the high-speed chase trope over land, the natural next step would be to cash in on the presence of the plane and have the chase take to the air. This video would, undoubtedly, reveal Mannie Fresh to be an expert pilot. Whatever it takes to evade the Feds.
Read the full article on our website, and pick up a digital subscription for access to new issues and our complete archive. Or opt for our swim bundle, which includes an annual print subscription, a luxurious beach towel, and an Olympics-grade swim cap.
Related articles:
“Resurrector: Angels in the Outfield” by Hanif Abdurraqib
“An Interview with Rakim,” conducted by John O’Connor
“Watch the Queen,” an essay by Sandi Rankaduwa





