The Life of a Hunted Man

50 gets through his days in bulletproof trucks, walking with four to six bodyguards just inches away, ushering him briskly through streets and doors, but his body language and demeanor show him unmoved by the threats on his life. He never refuses to stop for an autograph or a photo request, even when it exposes him to danger. Is he worried about his grandparents, who still live in Queens, New York, in the house where he grew up? He says his reputation is enough to protect them. "They [his would-be killers] know how I am. Anything go on around there, they need to move everything they love. They mammy, they pappy, they kids, all that shit. That'd start some real nasty shit. And they don't wanna go through that." He seems confident he won't be killed, unperturbed by being hunted. "It don't matter to me," he says. "That shit is not important when you got finances. Do I look uneasy to you?"

He does not. In this hotel room, he's boisterous, arrogant, secure in his own skin and having fun. The man from the gutter in Queens who nearly ended up in prison or dead is the biggest new star of the year. His gory, brilliant major-label debut, Get Rich or Die Tryin', sold 2.1 million copies in its first three weeks. Nearly all hip-hop fans know the broad outline of 50's life story: the ghetto-celeb crack dealer who escaped the drug game by thrusting himself into hip-hop, only to have his enemies follow him into his new life. One day in 2000, just months away from the release of his first album, he was shot nine times. His album was shelved, but 50 became a street legend on the strength of underground mix-tape hits (which are now collected on Guess Who's Back?). Last year, Eminem and Dr. Dre signed him to a joint label deal, and Em featured 50's Ja Rule dis, "Wanksta," on the soundtrack to 8 Mile. Dr. Dre produced Get Rich's first single, "In Da Club," and 50 went platinum in just over a week. "As soon as he walked in the studio, he picked up a pen, and we were done in an hour," says Dre. "We just made some shit we wanted to hear."

Part of 50's success is his unique voice, with a slur that's the result of the hole in his jaw from a bullet to the face. But a bigger part is his credibility. When he talks about drugs and guns and death, you know he's speaking from experience. "If he says he's gonna pop you, you think he might," says Eminem. "Kids wanna see a guy that got shot that many times and lived. There's a whole mystique about him, but at the same time, the same kids that are goin' to the shows are a little bit intimidated by him. Maybe not all, but most. He's definitely out there. And that's me sayin' that."

"I think kids like me like the fuckin' bad guy in a film," 50 says. "People love the bad guy. I watch movies all the time and root for the bad guy and turn it off before it ends because the bad guy dies. It's cinematic law: The bad guy has to die. But sometimes the bad guy gets a record deal and becomes a superstar like 50."

Curtis Jackson was born July 6th, 1976, on the south side of Jamaica, Queens, a rugged, drug-infested strip. Nearby residents describe it as the main arena for all the up-and-coming crack dealers. "That was their playground," says one. "That's where they got their stripes. A lot of niggas dumped bodies on that side of town." Young Curtis never knew his father, and doesn't want to now. "Let's give him a warning in this article," he says. "Don't you even dare crawl your ass out this way. I don't wanna know the nigga." 50's mother, Sabrina Jackson, was only fifteen years old when he was born and wasn't around very long. She dealt cocaine. "My moms was hard," 50 says. "She's real worse than me. She wasn't really feminine like that. My moms was tough-tough, like man-tough."