16 years ago, on this day, February 28th, 2009, I almost got to see a guardian angel get shot. (Well, technically, he ducked).
Today marks the 16-year anniversary of the legendary Aye Verb vs SB Battle that transpired after the fallout of the infamous NYC vs STL event that will forever live in a sliding door memory of battle rap’s biggest “What If” moments.
Slated for the night, the matches were;
Head Ice vs Aye Verb
Arsonal vs Remyd
Goodz vs Yung ill
A fun fact about this night, Tay Roc vs 45th Focus was an undercard battle on this significant event. You can find an article from 2009 that referenced one of our Battle Rap Goats as an “unknown cat.”
The height of the New York vs. St. Louis rivalry initially stemmed from a place of pure competition—a clash of two regions eager to test their skills. Loaded Lux, the mastermind behind Lionz Den, extended an invitation to Aye Verb to set up a night of battles. Lux recognized the undeniable talent brewing in the Midwest, and the idea was simple yet monumental: bring St. Louis’s top gunners to New York to prove themselves against the Lionz Den elite.
What followed was a buildup rich with mutual respect and anticipation as both sides engaged in legendary cyphers that set the tone for what was supposed to be a historic night. The iconic Blue Collar Television cypher featuring Head Ice, Goodz, Arsonal, and Loaded Lux was met with a response from St. Louis’s “Big Three” own Cypher at the time. However, amidst the competitive fire, crucial details about the event began to surface— In that response blog, Aye Verb revealed that the battle event had already been rescheduled multiple times—initially set for January 31st, then pushed to February 7th, before finally landing on February 28th. This constant shifting of dates hinted at the underlying instability surrounding the event, ultimately foreshadowing the bedlam ahead.
“We starving and ya making that shit worse. A whole month from now, it’s only gonna be worse for ya.”- Aye Verb
“Ya pushing this date back. We got lives out here. If you gonna bullshit, come to us.” – Remyd
Of course, there was no way for me to tell at the time that this would be a mess waiting to happen, but every single day, I would refresh World Star, check Myspace pages, and check for daily Youtube uploads, just waiting for new details. Once I had enough confirmation of a date, and a location, everything was ready to go. Lionz Den vs. ST. Louis was set to go down in Harlem on that faithful Saturday night on February 28th, and I was determined to be in attendance.
I was just 16 years old when I tried to attend this event. I was a young, die-hard battle rap fan from loving rap beef, diss records, and the movie 8-mile. But most of my love for battle rap came from being introduced to the culture through my older cousin, who would witness Fight Klub battles firsthand in person. He’d return home with stories about seeing rappers like Jin, Nems, Serius Jones, and many more names, and I’d soak up all of his stories like scripture. I had already watched plenty of DVDs, such as SMACK Volumes and Too Raw for the Streets, and of course, I watched Fight Klub on MTV. I always yearned to be with my older cousins at these events, but during those earlier years, I didn’t have much of a leash to really be outside.
It was not until I got my first cell phone at 13 that I got a Nokia phone (before eventually upgrading to a sidekick). This little blue phone changed my life; my world expanded. I had access; I had more free roam to be outside as a teenager and had the means to move around New York. The minute I was able to make my moves, I would travel to Harlem to always get my fix and cop whatever was hot and in the streets at the time. My routine was clockwork: after high school, I’d take the 4-train to 149th Street, transfer to the 2-train, and rush to Black Star Video on Lenox Avenue to get my hands on the latest battle DVDs and make it back home before my father’s 9-to-5 shift ended.
Black Star Video was more than a store; it was hallowed ground. The minute I walked into the store, I felt nothing but euphoria because I had watched countless battles filmed in that small, crowded space. Head Ice vs. Ty Knots. Goodz vs. K-Shine, Arsonal vs Tech-9, and more. This was the mecca, the pulse of battle rap in New York at the time. I loved SMACK DVD, but from 2006 till The World Series of Hiphop (WSHH) in 2008, there was a small gap that Loaded Lux and Lionz Den (And Grind Time) filled. I had long dreamed of experiencing a Lionz Den event in person; now, that dream was about to become reality.
Dialogue about Battle Rap’ history in the mid to late 2000s always intrigues me because It wasn’t just a single entity—it was a patchwork of different movements across the country happening simultaneously, each existing in its own world yet influencing the culture as a whole. I didn’t realize the whole landscape of the culture. Look at all of this activity: Fight Klub was nearing its final days, King of the Dot was in its infancy, Grind Time was thriving (and on this same date, They were putting on a legendary battle of their own in Dizaster vs illmac). Lionz Den was holding New York down. Blue Collar TV was also a prominent platform for battles. And then you had something special brewing In St. Louis.
I had just discovered the legendary Owe, the person who was running Street Status, a league of high-caliber rappers all from the Midwest, and I have to say, 16-year-old France was not familiar with their game! St. Louis had some killers. Hitman Holla, Yung Ill, Aye Verb, Juicezilla, G-Soldier, and more—My world wasn’t ready to process that rappers from this part of the country could lyrically match the talent New York’s finest had to offer. It was mind-blowing to think that ST. Louis had rappers that were out of the Norm a Nelly and Chingy, which was the sound we associated STL with. When Loaded Lux decided to bridge the gap and bring them to Harlem, I knew I had to be there by any means necessary.
So Why Didn't The Event Go Down ?
The Armory in Harlem was supposed to be the location for this event. The funniest part about this story is that you always hear about an over-capacity at the armory, which led to the Fire Marshalls shutting things down. Goodz revealed years later in an interview with 15MOF that this location was never fully secured. Loaded Lux made an attempt to pay the Janitor who cleans the Armory at night to open the backdoors and let everyone in. Once the Janitor saw 200-300 people, he couldn’t allow that many people to enter at night.
How fantastic! Loaded Lux sets up one of the biggest cards in Battle Rap history at the time; not only does it get pushed back twice, but he never actually locked in a location for it. He was the league owner and the Doorman. To this day, people who paid for tickets never got their refunds. One could say Lux’s business practices were the detriment to what Lionz Den was supposed to be.
For some more context, picture this: we were about 5 months removed from the World Series of Hiphop event, another huge event that just happened in NYC, so the demand and anticipation for another big event at the time could not be understated!
It’s funny how this culture works because when you fast forward almost 10-15 years later, we still encounter these similar issues, with events having venue issues, battles not going down, league owners not being transparent, and fans not getting their moneys worth (But that’s a story for another day)
Now, you have hundreds of people trying to migrate to a new last-minute location change. The event was moved to a well-known spot called Bud’s Sports Bar, the same Sports Bar that would later be immortalized in Jadakiss’ Who’s Real music video.
Around this time in battle rap, there was no real structure with how to run events or operate with “venues.” the people in attendance were mostly people that were at these events were either connected to the scene, rappers in the city, or people who were deep in the life of the streets. I was neither of those things. I didn’t have a plug to get me into these places, nor did I even know anybody. I was just a shy kid, a die-hard fan, standing outside in the freezing cold, hoping to witness something special.
I realized I wouldn’t make it into the event and wouldn’t see any of the battlers I came out for. It was time to make the executive decision and call it a night. Bud’s Sports Bar was right by The bridge at 155th and St. Nicholas, a pathway leading me back to the Bronx, where I was just a short train ride from safety. The night felt like a lost cause, but it wasn’t until the next morning that set me off in a frenzy. My jaw dropped once I logged on to the internet and saw several uploads from World Star Hip-hop, YouTube uploads from Dashliving, and GDE Magazine that a battle did occur!
An infamous video that will always go down in history captures the chaos outside of Bud Sports Bar. These videos had more views on World Star Hiphop than some of the biggest music videos at the time, and it was a huge moment for battle rap. This scene was filmed by a reporter named Shorty Roc from GDE Magazine. The footage shows a crowd outside at the corner of Edgecombe, confusion mounting as battle after battle failed to take place. Loaded Lux was nowhere to be found in this video. You’re probably asking yourself, well, where the hell is Head Ice, Goodz & Arsonal at in all of this?
More details of the story surfaced over time; Head Ice saw the chaos of trying to get into the Sports Bar, so he left immediately. Arsonal, who could not bring in all of his entourage from New Jersey, also departed. However, Goodz is on his way to The Sports Bar, and three St. Louis rappers still remained eager to battle and try to make sense of the situation. By the time Goodz left the Armory and went to the other spot, it was a cluster fuck. Every minute that was lost to chaos and disarray was another minute of Goodz drifting away from his motivation to perform. And could you blame him?
Actually, yeah, maybe you could. We always hear about “The Cloth” from that era, and battling outside was the norm. In hindsight, Goodz candidly admits in an interview that he should’ve just battled outside, but it was difficult to maintain that momentum after so much was going on. I can empathize with that, but the way he came across in the video didn’t do him any justice. He’s clearly showing no interest in battling in this video.
Meanwhile, a Harlem legend—Murda Mook, ever heard of him?—was outside the venue, trying to orchestrate something.
Mook realized the gravity of this moment and how important it was for STL to come to New York to earn their respect. After Lionz Den pushed back the date, not once but twice, and failed to organize it that night. Mook understood the pain that the St. Louis rappers were feeling, from preparing raps for this moment to driving 17 hours from STL to Harlem to doing all of that and leaving empty-handed. Mook couldn’t allow them to return home with this as their experience. Mook attempted to convince Goodz to battle outside, but after an hour of trying to find clarity amidst the disorder, Goodz became frustrated with the night’s event. So, at this point of the night, Goodz had some post-battle arrangements and was ready to move along with his night with something really nice setup. (If you know, you know).
A Bronx battle rapper by the name of SB, well-recognized with a solid winning record at Grind time and an active battler at Blue Collar TV, decided to step up and declared he would battle any of the St. Louis emcees who were still willing to go to war.
I want to take a moment in this story to give Murda Mook massive credit for the way he was able to leave his fingerprints on this entire night. If we did an MVP ranking on who was most pivotal in saving The NYC vs. ST. Louis event, you could make the case that the title belongs to Mook. Not only was he able to orchestrate a battle to take place, he also made sure STL had its moment; but he was also positive PR for the New York Representation. Mook defended Goodz against the looming narratives that GDE Magazine was so determined to paint. Goodz, who caught a lot of flack at the time for his decision not to battle. They were focused on attacking Goodz’s character, and Mook had his back. He found a way to bridge the gap for both regions, all at the expense of SB.
Initially, before SB stepped up to battle, the St. Louis rappers, realizing nothing official was happening, started walking up the hill to leave. Just before they got too far, Murda Mook rounded them back up and formed a circle. Sometimes, this detail is lost in history, and it’s a piece of the story people forget, but Remyd was the one who originally kicked things off, spitting one of his rounds to battle SB.
I looked up a historical weather tracker to discover that it was a brutal 32-degree night in New York City on that date—before global warming, winter nights in the city were far less forgiving. Thirty-two degrees in 2009 felt like 12 degrees. Remedy pulled up in a thin flannel vest and struggled against the biting cold, his breath visible with each bar. The frostbite was too much, and he could not keep rapping.
Before Remdy faltered, SB stepped up, and they rapped one round back and forth, but before long, Aye Verb picked up where Remdy left off, continuing the battle and delivering an all-time performance. An unplanned, raw, and legendary moment in battle rap history followed. A transmigration took place. Aye Verb’s stardom rose from the ashes of SB’s Career. A necessary karmic cycle for the greater good of the culture’s history.
16 Years Later
Fast Forward to 2025, so many of the names involved in this night went on to have a Hall of Fame battle rap career.
We did have some closure on some of these matches, as Remdy & Arsonal battled a month later on the final installment of Fight Klub, where Arsonal had a dominating result. Twelve years later, Aye Verb & Head Ice finally have words in the ring. We are still missing the Goodz vs Yung ill chapter of this, but maybe that will forever remain a “what if” battle.
The next morning, I was so mad at myself for going home and discovering that I had missed the history that had taken place. There was no way of knowing what could have happened that night, but it’s always cool to remind myself that I was probably a few hours and some more frostbite from witnessing SB’s Guardian angel take the bullets intended for Head Ice’s angel.
And I’ll always wonder how different battle rap would be if Head Ice stood in front of those rounds that night.
And maybe that’s the beauty of battle rap—the what-ifs, the battles that almost happened, the stories that never got to be told. That night became a moment frozen in time, a chaotic chapter in history where legends nearly clashed, but fate had other plans. The battles that did not happen are just as much a part of the culture, leaving us to forever speculate on the bars left unsaid and the legacies that could have potentially been altered. Some questions will never have answers, but the echoes of that night still linger, reminding us that in battle rap, every missed moment holds just as much weight as the ones that make history.
