When Juvenile said "HA," millions tuned in. Unfazed by the glitz and glamour of multiplatinum fame, the original Hot Boy has remained true to his roots. Sacha Jenkins takes a trip to Louisiana's Magnolia Housing Development to catch up with the money-makin' Mouth From the Dirty South.

     Cash Money's temporary offices are tucked away in an industrial park not too far from New Orleans International Airport. The office building's exterior features futuristically styled skyscraper windows, perfect landscaping, and that White House creamy white paint that makes all official buildings seem official. It looks a lot like the FBI headquarters of J. Edgar Hoover's wet dreams. Inside, Ronald "Slim" Williams, CEO of the label that pays hot boys like Dwayne "Lil Wayne" Carter, Christopher "B.G." Dorsey, Tab "Turk" Virgil, and Terius "Juvenile" Gray, spares a precious moment for his wanting gut.

     "Where's my food at?" asks the wafer-thin Slim, who strolls down the hall like a totem pole on stilts. A secretary diligently scribbles notes in the big man's day planner as he reaches around her for the takeout order. "Get me some hot sauce with that," he quips. Though they've only been in here for two weeks, the honeycomb hideout is already abuzz. Video director Terry Heller is waiting to run some shooting locales for Lil Wayne's new clip by the brass; Bryan "Baby" Williams (brother of Slim's, co-CEO of Cash Money, and one half of the Big Tymers) blasts the harmonies of Unplug, CM's first R&B group. Phones ring relentlessly; an employee hammers nails into walls and hangs platinum and gold plaques throughout the space. Cash Money keeps things bangin'. "Juvenile can flip from any subject‹he can go from Jesus to murder whenever he wants," Cash Money's sole producer, Mannie Fresh, tells me while opening his mail. "As long as he keeps that energy and stays around positive people and does positive things, then, you know, Juvy, he's here to stay."

     Moments later, the submachine gun­ tongued MC called Juvenile, 25, draped fully in an acid-green Phat Farm denim suit and sportin' more gold in his mouth than Fort Knox, bops in. In the top pocket of his jacket, a neatly folded lump of cash the size of Rhode Island bulges through the fabric. "Thanksgiving came; I took care of everybody. Christmas came; I took care of everybody. Now," Juvy says numbly, "they think I'm their daddy." Back in town for the video shoot, straight outta a Miami recording studio where he and his fellow Hot Boys were finishing up their third album, Juvenile has errands to run, bills to pay, babies (he has two) and baby mamas (he has two) to see before he's on the road again.

     Juvy says he doesn't mind sharing his wealth with his loved ones or with those in need. But at a certain point, he stresses, folks should do for themselves, do what Juvy did for himself: toil that ass up.

     "For Christmas, I bought all the little kids in the project tennis shoes. Because I know a lot of them mamas are on those drugs; a lot of the mamas are workin' and they have so much shit they gotta pay for," Juvy reasons from the front passenger's seat of his sunshine yellow Hummer. "There are some people out here, though, that got their full health, able to get a job, who would rather beg a nigga. Grown motherfuckers should not have to ask me for nothin'. Get yours like I got mine. That's what my daddy taught me." "A muthfucker not doin' nothin' ain't gon' get nothin'," chimes in Kenny Landrix, Juvy's mackified stepfather, the Robin to his Batman, from behind the wheel. He's one of those shades-wearing player types who always rock the toothpick between their teeth. "Simple arithmetic," Landrix adds. He then switches up, deepening his tone. "Ooops," he groans, motioning to a crowd growing on the street. We're rolling through the Magnolia Housing Development (recently renamed the C.J. Peete Housing Development), Juvy's old 'hood and muse. (Although Juvy spends much of his time here, his new 'hood is a rather plush gated community just outside New Orleans.) "Almost had a dope bust," Landrix adds. Says Juvy: "Yeah, they got a dope bust. And guess where the dope bust looks like it's at?" He's all dejected: "The weed house."

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