
Caleb Baker

Audio By Carbonatix
On September 30, Ice Cube rolled into the Desert Diamond Arena in Glendale, just north of State Farm Stadium, on his Truth to Power tour to remind everyone in the Valley why he’s been a force in hip-hop for nearly 40 years.
The lights dropped around 8:30 p.m., and Cube kicked off with a handful of his late-’80s bangers, including Dopeman from his N.W.A. days.
For the younger heads in the crowd, N.W.A. came out of Compton and Los Angeles and was one of the first gangsta rap groups to go mainstream. Their raw lyrics and no-filter storytelling helped usher in the infamous “Parental Advisory: Explicit Content” stickers on cassettes, vinyl, and those then-new compact discs. Luckily for me, back then, my parents never caught those stickers at the Licorice Pizza point-of-sale register.
Another gem from that era was “Boyz ‘-n-the-Hood.” Cube — government name O’Shea Jackson Sr. — wrote it back in ’87, and it became the late Eazy-E’s breakout single.
“Rest in Peace … we all know (the late) Eazy-E,” Cube shouted into the mic, and the whole arena erupted — kicks stomping, diehards yelling, OGs whistling, everyone throwing hands in the air. Then he hit us with the surprise: “But we got his son, Lil Eazy-E, to come help me out with this one.”
The giant screens flashed the classic red Eazy-Duz-It font, and out came Lil Eazy, leading with that iconic line: “Cruisin’ down the street in my ’64…” From there, the three-quarters-full stadium — about 19,000 at capacity — became one massive hip-hop choir. The crowd spat every lyric with Cube and Lil Eazy as they paid tribute to Eric “Eazy-E” Wright, the trailblazer who left a legacy now carried by his family.
“The boyz in the hood are always hard…” we fans shouted in unison, our voices bouncing off the rafters as the duo kept the memory of West Coast rap’s foundation alive.

Caleb Baker
Some younger fans showed up in Las Vegas Raiders gear, trading verses alongside their Gen Z chaperones who remembered when Cube and N.W.A. first stormed on “Yo! MTV Raps.” Others leaned into the look with Chuck Taylors, mirroring the kicks worn by Cube and Lil Eazy on stage. Hella fans rocked legit tour merch sold in the arena, while others sported the bootlegs sold in the parking lot. The fandom was hardcore.
Midway through, Cube tore into “Gangsta Gangsta” and “Straight Outta Compton,” the title track from N.W.A.’s 1989 debut album. Produced by Dr. Dre, DJ Yella, and Arabian Prince, with lyrics written by Eazy-E, Ice Cube, MC Ren and the D.O.C., the record became a lightning rod for controversy back in the day. It was largely absent from Arizona radio when it first dropped. Still, Valley listeners found ways to keep it in heavy rotation — from boomboxes on auto-reverse to car stereos thumping on cruise nights throughout the Valley. Judging by the sing-alongs inside Desert Diamond Arena, the lyrics remain etched into memory, shouted back word for word more than three decades later.
“How many day-one fans do I got in the house tonight?” Cube asked, and the chants that followed were seemingly more impressive than the bass frequencies from his tracks shaking the whole arena.
Between songs, when Cube slipped backstage for a quick break, the massive screens lit up with clips tracing his journey: moments with his mother, Tipper Gore’s anti-rap crusade, fistfights, studio sessions, and his split from N.W.A.
And as the going goes, doors opened for Cube.
“Being an actor was something I never dreamed of,” Cube’s voice narrated over one clip. “I just wanted to be the best rapper in the world. I was discovered by a guy named John Singleton — he was about my age — and he said he wanted to put me in a movie.”
That movie was Boyz n the Hood, the late Singleton’s 1991 breakout film and a landmark in breakin’ down Los Angeles stories. It also launched Cube’s acting career. (More than 20 years later, in 2015, the legacy came full circle when Cube’s son, O’Shea Jackson Jr., played him in the “Straight Outta Compton” flick, linking his father’s music and film history for the younger Millennials and Gen Zers.)

Caleb Baker
“The ’90s was crazy, right?” Cube spoke, then dropped his voice a few decibels. “What hurt me the most in the ’90s — what hurt my heart the most was finding out that Eazy-E passed away. Eazy-E is the architect of this shit, right? He’s the one that let us be ourselves on the record. Everyone else was trying to tell us how to make records. His passing away… it was too much drama with the rights, the fighting.
And with Eazy passing away, we gotta lighten up this shit a lil bit. So that’s when I wrote a little movie called Friday, right?”
Released in ‘95 and directed by F. Gary Gray, “Friday” was a weed-infused bro comedy co-written by Cube and DJ Pooh. Instead of the bleak violence of “Boyz n the Hood,” the film leaned into mad humor, everyday struggles, and neighborhood hijinks in South Central Los Angeles.
The flick showed that Ice Cube could write as well as rap, creating authentic dialogue and situations that felt real to the culture — basically what his late friend, Eazy-E, was always telling the crew regarding their songs.
Then the speakers in the arena blared the intro to the “Friday” track with Chris Tucker’s voice.
The AZ crowd was lit. Some had blunts in the air, some OGs raised their lighters, and plenty had cell phones recording with the flashlights on full blast — all chanting in unison:
“Throw the West side in the air
Throw the East side in the air
Throw the South side in the air
Throw the North side in the air
Oh yeah!”
Fellow rapper WC stormed out solo while Cube ducked backstage for a wardrobe switch, re-emerging in a fresh jersey — same design, lighter shade, with a matching cap. Together, they hit hard with their Westside Connection catalog, minus Mack 10, with Young Maylay sliding in at times for backup. They performed “Bow Down,” “The Gangsta,” the Killa and the Dope Dealer,” and Gangsta Nation.
Fans who remembered these tracks from their mid-’90s Phoenix radio play threw their fingers up in a “W,” bouncing along with the partial supergroup.
The theatrics hit heavy here. A stage lift raised Cube and WC about ten feet in the air, while a pair of treadmill-style mats rolled opposite directions across the lower stage, creating the tripped-out illusion of the rappers floating. Add in C-Walk footwork, blinding LED screens, and colored beams cutting through ganja smoke — it felt like Cube and WC were part concert, and somewhat of a hologram. But this was an “in real life” vibe that AI and social media will never recreate.
By the time Cube reminded us that “every time you see me, it’s Friday,” it was already pushing Wednesday morning. And still, he wasn’t lying — the vibe was weekend energy through and through.
One of the last tracks was the anthem itself, “It Was a Good Day.” Three hours deep, the whole arena stayed on its feet, heads bobbing, voices locked in with Cube:
“Today was a good day…”
The Isley Brothers’ “Footsteps in the Dark” sample hummed through the arena, and Phoenix floated with him.
Walking out, we all knew it wasn’t Friday; it was a weekday reality check. But nobody cared — this night in Glendale was one for the books. By the next afternoon, folks were back at work, replaying it all in their heads.