The Legend of Big June: A Conversation With The San Diego Hip-Hop Piruneer

J. Smith links up with the influential San Diego rapper Big June to talk about the story behind his '92 debut, being a pioneer of San Diego hip-hop & more.
By    July 26, 2023

Image via Big June/Discogs


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J. Smith has visited Triggeration Station once or twice.


I met Big June in a Food 4 Less parking lot on a Saturday afternoon. It was the evening rush, cars pulling into stalls trying to avoid shopping carts and door dings – an organized scramble to get something for dinner, the kind that happens just before the sun sets. By any measure, an unassuming encounter on your way to the grocery store is pretty mundane. But to bump into the cat who released “Piru’N” before grabbing foodstuffs is surreal.

A mountain of a man, as his name implies, Big June is the kind of guy who gets stopped running errands or waiting in line at the Post Office. And that’s exactly what this was, where after a quick introduction from a friend in common, we chopped it up before he had to go. He’s a “Piruneer” (pioneer and Piru combined), a handle he’s given himself — one that articulates the contributions he’s made to San Diego’s gangster rap tradition. And prior to him leaving we agreed to a conversation at some point in the future – a proper interview to talk about his history, career and music.

His debut was the 1992 maxi-single, “Straight Jackin.” Over 808 hits, a neck-nodding bassline, panned adlibs and reverb-soaked vocals, he guided listeners through parts of the city only the tapped-in knew about. These are the places beyond tourist traps like Seaport Village or even Presidio Park. June tells stories of the Southeast corridor, a space absent surfers and Shamu, the inner ring bounded by freeways and hood politics. He offers his take on the G-tales genre, informed by local landmarks and regional idioms— where St. Louis baseball caps allude to turf ties, Morse High School is name checked and weed is rebranded as the “dunker dunk.”

It’s a cassette time capsule featuring him on the cover, rocking Dickies and a shoulder length perm. The butt of a pistol sticks out from his right side front pocket. He was 16 years old when it dropped, a sophomore splitting time outside of class between studio sessions and hanging with the homies. “I was at Steve’s house,” June says, explaining how it came together. “He gave me a beat, ya know. He made me a little beat and I made the song.” Studio magic, no doubt. And when you consider that the “Steve” he’s referring to is VMF, the artist/producer who MC Hammer featured on his 1995 single “Sultry Funk,” it feels like a precursor foreshadowing success they would both find later on.

Indeed, the early nineties scene in San Diego was self-contained. Insular but active, a community that had names like Gangsta Ern, The Green Eyes, and Big June circulating via word of mouth praise, hustle and independent tapes. Nothing but a gangsta party, blues over beats, the streets of Southeast were just like Compton and at the time San Diego’s niche rap reflected exactly that.

June’s music was well received and he started traveling out of town to network with industry insiders. There were trips to the Bay, Arizona and Los Angeles where he rubbed elbows with OG’s like Snoop Dogg and DJ Quik. He even had a deal from Eazy E’s Ruthless Records on deck. However, addiction (PCP), youth and inexperience caused him to lose focus—the offer fell through. Landing back on the block, at 21, Big June got locked up.

In 2002, after being released from prison, June got his rap chops back in order. There was “My Day Goez On” in 2003 and “Flamed Up” in 2006. However, it was his 2008 single, a kind of sing-along for the set, “Piru’N,” that re-established his hood legend bonafides. It hit like theme music for the affiliate – full of hubris, slow funk, and menace. The original video has about a million views on Youtube and the remix almost twice that. It heralded a victory for him and a good look for the hometown; San Diego was putting numbers on the board.

But just as momentum was building, he got locked up again. This second bid was for four-and-a-half years. Behind bars, there was little he could do to capitalize on the success of “Piru’N,” and the moment felt bitter sweet.

In 2014, he returned home to start the rebuilding process. Almost a decade later, he’s gotten sober and become a family man. He’s matured and most importantly, he’s survived. Our conversation started out in that parking lot, but it picked up over the phone across a couple of weeks. During our calls Big June shared highlights and heartbreak with a disarming calm. He’s neither jaded nor prickly, and is somehow far from bitter.

When you speak to him, you immediately notice his humility, quiet charisma, and charm. In San Diego, he is a legendary O.G., but down to earth, who you might just see milling about the bread aisle, if you’ve been paying attention.



How did you get started making music?


Big June: Growing up, my mom, she used to play a lot of oldies and what not. So, I was just around music everyday. Then I ended up moving to my grandfather’s house in San Diego and we used to watch Run DMC in the morning before school, MTV and all that, Yo MTV Raps. I just liked it a lot and thought I could do that. I just started doing what they do, singing their songs and acting like I rap. Next thing you know I started making songs.


Are you originally from San Diego?


Big June: I’m a San Diegan but I was born in Compton, I was born in Paramount General Hospital really. My mom disappeared on us and my aunt came and got us and I’ve been out here ever since.


Your first project came out in 1992, Straight Jackin’. What’s the story behind it?


Big June: When I wrote it, Steve Vicious, that was my boy Ernie Buchanan’s brother.. Me and Ern Bo used to write little verses here and there rapping over the party line. We didn’t have any music out at the time but we used to call ourselves rappers. When I was at Keiller (middle school) me and Black Sid used to pull out the record player at lunch and rap. So, I definitely wasn’t afraid to do things in front of people. And it just got easier as I got older and really pursued it. None of the other homies really pursued it, like I ended up sticking with it. But Straight Jackin’ came, I was at Steve’s house and he gave me a beat, made me a little beat and I wrote the song to it.


Did you have a vision? Like, ‘ok, this is gonna be my demo,’ or ‘this is going to be a tape that I put out,’ or was it just, ‘I’m going into the studio to rap?’


Big June: I didn’t have a vision for it. At that time I was kicking it with Black Mikey and he was rapping for real. We used to hangout on Ozark and he used to just bust raps. So I just started picking up how to do it myself, kind of getting my own little swagger so to speak. And I came with that song, I don’t know how I came up with it but I was just telling my story.


When you hear the song now, are you impressed by it?


Big June: At the time when I did it, it was just a song to me. I was trying to get to the next song but I didn’t think it was going to do what it did. I started a whole bunch of shit and I’m not saying in a bad way. I had the audacity to do it and I did it and now I look at all these new people that’s coming after me and that’s kind of where they got their courage from. Like, ‘man, he did it and he was 16, like maybe I can do it.’ But I don’t brag about it, I don’t ever try to push the issue like, ‘hey I started it.’ I keep it moving and keep trying to come up with something for now. I’m humble about it.


Do you feel like a pioneer, like you laid the groundwork for San Diego rap in a way?


Big June: Um, yeah. But to me, I’m not special. What I receive now, the love I receive now, is what I was looking for back then but I didn’t get it. One thing I tell people, I don’t feel I’m better than anybody. And another thing, I didn’t give up what I believed in. When my aunt and everybody was like, ‘you need to leave that stuff alone,’ I just kept going.


The era you came out in, what was the vibe?


Big June: Gangsta Ern came out that year (’92) as well. I tried to get Green Eyes to help ’cause he already had “The Struggle Is On” song and he was upstairs from my house. I used to hit him up outside like, ‘I wanna rap.’ I didn’t know a lick about it but I hit him up. Next thing you know, that’s when I met Steve and started doing my own thing.


You’ve been at it for more than thirty years. How have you been able to maintain over three decades?


Big June: I caught prison time, twice. So, I kinda stopped and handled my bids. But when I came back they were still wanting it. So I kept giving it to ‘em.


Did any labels ever approach you or did you ever have any interest in signing with anybody?


Big June: Yes. In LA we went to the, I think it was BRE? Black Radio Entertainment, it was a showcase that was in LA. Snoop Dogg, DJ Quik, and a lot of other artists were at the showcase. This was when Paperboy came out, we were up there. I got addicted to smoking sherm with the homies and I was gonna sign with Eazy-E. Repo Rick had the picture, and I put it on FaceBook, where he has my cassette on the table. He’s in Jerry Heller’s office and he’s got a picture with him and Eazy-E. I had the glossy photo, you know the black and white joints, I had that on the desk and they were talking about a deal… [But] at that time I was gang banging so, if I would’ve got a deal and signed right then, I would’ve been buying up guns and dope. Trying to be a kingpin out here instead of doing the music, you know what I mean.


Did the drugs just kind of do what they do and take you in a different direction?


Big June: I think really, God wasn’t ready for me. He knew I wasn’t ready.


Yet you still made a way for yourself. Take “Piru’N” for example, it’s big. One of the things that surprised me when we first spoke was your perspective on it now. Not that it’s bad or anything but how do you see it at this point? Both the Yin and Yang aspects of it?


Big June: I put it out in 2008. Then I went down and ended up going to prison in 2010, and did four and a half years. Got out and that thing already blew up, did 900,000 views. Then I re-did it, homies reached out from LA and Compton. Big Fast 100, The Game’s brother re-did it. I had the first verse and he had the second verse. And everybody just started hitting me after that. A lot of people say I’m the one that really brought the Piru’N to the industry. There was Blood music but there was no Piru music out.

Even though I was locked up I was the one who started a whole genre of Piru music. YG came out and wasn’t an underground artist, so he kinda shot past me with the big label money behind him and all that. But a lot of those people hit me and tell me I’m the one that started it. But it did a lot of good, no telling who it did bad for, you know what I mean. No telling who jumped off the porch behind that song and started gang banging behind that song that I kind of created for me and my homies. You know, if they got hurt, killed, I don’t know. But if anybody did get hurt to it, I apologize, got killed to it, I apologize. I wanted to come with a song, but n****s like, ‘nah, you ain’t apologizing about nothing.’ But I’m like, that’s on my conscience. I gotta deal with the repercussions behind whoever got hurt, beat up, anything behind that song ’cause that made them want to start gang banging and it’s because of me.


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