The Dipset of today is a much different creature than the Dipset of five years ago, its core of ganglike us-against-the-world camaraderie torn apart by, among other things, Jim Jones’s ego in the wake of “We Stay Fly” and his obsessive quest to find the worst pair of jeans in the world. But one thing the Diplomats still have in common is a shared love for looking at pretty much anything in the world and extracting from it a faintly amusing metaphor for the process of cooking and selling crack. Like, say, a Bob Dylan song.
