In the annals of Martinsburg, West Virginia, a singular figure has etched a mark upon the urban legendry of the region. Marcus 7th Born Taylor, a name that resonates with whispered tales and hushed tones, was formally recorded in the federal docket, the year was 2002. A dark cloud loomed over Marcus’s life when the West Virginia Drug Task Force apprehended him, charging him with a grave conspiracy: the intent to distribute a staggering 6,000 grams of crack cocaine, which carried an imposing 18-year federal sentence.
For two years, Marcus languished in the confines of the county jail, a place where time crawls at a torturous pace. It wasn’t until 2004 that his moment of reckoning arrived. In a move that hinted at the vulnerability of their case, the federal prosecutors extended an offer —a plea deal. The terms were clear: confess to drug-related activities dating back to 1995, and in exchange, the indictment would be dropped. Succumbing to the harsh reality of his situation, he accepted the plea, setting in motion a period of incarceration at FCI Morgantown that would span until his eventual release in 2005.
Reluctantly, but perhaps wisely, Marcus made the pragmatic choice not to engage in a battle with the federal authorities. The sobering statistics loomed large, the government’s 99.6% conviction rate in trials. In the state of West Virginia, being black carried an unjust weight of its own, compounded by the uncomfortable fact that the late Senator Robert Byrd had a history entangled with the Ku Klux Klan, casting a long shadow over the state’s racial dynamics. Meanwhile, the media continued to relish in its exploitation of the term ‘super predator,’ a phrase coined in 1995.
I vividly recall our encounter, a sweltering day in Martinsburg where the oppressive heat bore down upon us. Beads of perspiration trickled down Paul’s forehead as he drew from a cigarette, introducing me to an artist of note, Marcus 7th Born Taylor. Our conversation that day was nothing short of riveting—an interplay of dreams, conspiracies, and plots, woven together by the tapestry of youth. Connecting with Marcus came effortlessly; our belief systems intertwined seamlessly. We delved into the realms of the New World Order, Big Brother, the scourge of racism, and an array of conspiratorial musings that would make even Alex Jones nod in approval. We discussed documentaries, and he even entrusted me with the task of procuring certain DVDs—an endeavor, I regret to admit, I failed to pursue. I hope that this article compensates for that lapse. Amidst our shared passions for authentic hip-hop, champions such as Dead Prez and Public Enemy, there was but one distinction that separated us: the color of our skin.
It is surreal to contemplate that nearly fifteen years have elapsed since that pivotal encounter, marked by Marcus 7th Born Taylor’s journey through the unforgiving crucible of the criminal justice system he’s emerged as a rising artist whose voice demands attention.
“Prior to my incarceration, I won a contest that would have granted me the opportunity to meet Dr. Dre and Eminem. I was even slated to open for Trina and perform on the Up In Smoke Tour. Unfortunately, my bond was revoked due to possessing a firearm while involved in drug-related activities,” Marcus candidly recounts.
“The self-awareness I gained during my time in prison turned out to be an unexpected blessing,” Marcus reflects. “While I was incarcerated I immersed myself in a multitude of books, and I returned home transformed—a completely different man. That’s how I’m able to write about the things I write about.”
Despite the numerous challenges that Marcus has encountered along his journey, he has consistently drawn upon his past experiences to shape the person he has become today. Marcus is not merely an artist; he embodies the roles of a father, an activist, and a revolutionary. He reflects on his upbringing, stating, “I was raised around Jamaicans and my mother is American, you can feel the influence.”
Throughout the years, Marcus has tenaciously pursued his musical dreams, tirelessly building connections, performing at various shows, and curating a rich catalog of visuals on YouTube. Marcus firmly believed his big break was imminent, when Jason Colon introduced his music to the renowned ex-Bad Boy/Hitmen producer, Chucky Thompson.
“Instantly, Chucky invited me to his Studio on 14th Street in Washington, DC, where we agreed to collaborate on two records. Tragically, he died from Covid-19 while working on P Diddy’s Love Album,” Marcus painfully explains.
Deeply affected by Chuckie’s untimely passing, Marcus felt compelled to honor his spirit by reaching out to the legendary mixtape DJ Ron G. Ron G’s name needs no introduction for true hip-hop enthusiasts. True to his OG nature, Ron G graciously agreed to lend an ear to Marcus, urging him to share his music. Renowned for spotting talent, Ron G recognized something special in Marcus. This recognition led to a collaboration, with Marcus making numerous appearances on Ron G’s mixtapes.
Marcus 7th Born Taylor’s narrative is a testament to resilience. Against all odds, he has persevered, hailing from the rugged terrain of West Virginia to navigating the complexities of the feds. Marcus has firmly established himself in the crowded world of hip-hop.
His lyrical prowess enables him to craft verses that mirror the turbulent times of our era. In an age thirsty for genuine voices, Marcus 7th Born Taylor emerges as a profound representation of resilience and authenticity. We yearn for more artists like him to be the voice of our generation and those that will follow.
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Shalum. May you find what you seek. Ahava Ach.
🙏🙌
Beautiful ❤️
Thank you!
You deserve every bit of this.. your talent is amazing and authentic.