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Bling and booze; profanity and promiscuity; guns and grog. Hip-hop has suffered a bad rap at the hands of modern artists, but the old-timers are still around and they're keen to challenge the stereotypes. There's no better place to do so than in New York, where the genre was born.
Hush Tours claims to be the original hip-hop sightseeing tour company in New York, but if you listen to Kanye West and Snoop Dogg, you'll find yourself on the wrong tour bus. This excursion is run by hip-hop's forefathers and pioneers. They have names, and hits, I've never heard of, but according to our guide, Grandmaster Caz, we ought to pay homage to them.
Caz has earned his keep in New York's music scene. He has spent much of his life as a ghost writer, penning lyrics and melodies for other artists. Almost three decades ago, his manager stabbed him in the back, using Caz' lyrics to score a record deal for himself. One of the songs, Rapper's Delight, became one of the most recognisable hip-hop tunes of all time.
As he recounts this story while driving through Manhattan, it seems Caz is still kicking himself for not claiming copyright on the song, which would have made him a millionaire many times over. Now he's leading bus tours, but that's no slight on his success; right now, Caz is working with artists such as Moby. Anyway, sharing hip-hop with the masses is what he loves.
Caz recalls the early days, when people would spill on to New York's streets for block parties at night. There was often no power to fire up the turntables and speakers. Caz stops near a street light and lifts a thick flap at its base, exposing a cluster of rainbow wires. He explains how his mates would run to a hardware store, buy an adapter and attach it to the wiring. It was free electricity, says Caz, "but we created a whole lot of afros in the process".
One of our first stops is at the Graffiti Hall of Fame which, for more than two decades, has allowed people from all over the world to create hip-hop art on its inner walls.
One weekend each summer, the walls are repainted white. The remarkable thing is, this hall of fame is located in the middle of the main playground courtyard at Central Park East School in Manhattan.
Such is the interaction level between hip-hop and the community. But New York seems to have had a love-hate relationship with hip-hop over the years. The authorities campaigned to stop graffiti vandalism on public transport.
For a deeper sense of hip-hop history, we travel to some of the city's tougher neighbourhoods, starting with Harlem, which is going through a renaissance.
Land is being snapped up, and there are now two Starbucks on the main street. There used to be a Disney store, but according to Caz, "Mickey ain't popular with the brothers round these streets".
Harlem is home to the Apollo Theatre, a renowned black performance venue, and Bobby's Happy House, the last traditional record store in the area. Harlem Entertainment World was where legendary hip-hop battles and record release parties took place.
Now, we reach a building called Conway, a department store. Up the road is Hotel Theresa, where Ray Charles wrote his track Hit The Road, Jack. Martin Luther King Jr also stayed there.
Hip-hop history is peppered with anecdotes about these famous figures who, often indirectly, influenced its growth.
Earlier, we "paused for the cause" at the Frank E. Campbell funeral chapel where final services were held for stars such as Aaliyah and Luther Vandross.
We arrive in the Bronx at 1520 Segewick Ave, a humble office block. This looks like an ordinary, working-class area, but at 9pm on 11 August 1973, it was the building where the very first hip-hop party was held, unofficially marking the birth of the genre.
Throughout the tour, Caz' wing-man sits next to the bus driver, clutching a laptop wired to a speaker system, selecting the beats as we cruise through the neighbourhoods. With Caz, he turned up for work this morning in a white, tricked-out Hummer.
These guys are the real deal, and they know it.
Caz pulls out a kangol hat - an Australian creation that hip-hop icons of his era adopted. He throws a thick gold chain around his neck; it's a throwback, he says, to the African kings and queens who wore jewellery. However, as he astutely points out, why walk around with gold chains if you can't even pay your rent?
For many of the people we meet on this four-hour tour, there ain't much point wearing those gold chains. But this tour is as much about what happens on the inside of the bus than the sites we visit.
It's about giving ageing hip-hop masters a chance to share their memories and wisdom with the public. Sure, they're clinging on to some grievances, and rightly so. But giving them a chance to reminisce, and show off their patch, certainly seems to be worth it.
Jehan Casinader travelled with assistance from The Hilton New York and NYC & Company.
