At the time of this song’s recording, Jay was over 30. By that time, many people expect black men, especially those in urban environments to be dead, either from a prison suicide (“hangin' from my neck in jail”) or murdered in a morgue, with a horrible odor (“on a slab in the mortuary, freezing with a blank stare on my face, letting off a wretched smell”).
So, when these concert goers attend his show and call him a failure, they don’t realize that Jay has already defeated the odds of society in terms of life expectancy. This, surely, diminishes the importance of their criticisms of him.
