Larry "Loki" Malbog is one of the resident deejays at the collective. Malbog, a freshman studying engineering, has been deejaying for 2 years.

"When you're a DJ, you just have the power to move the crowd," he says.

"It's just like any aspect of hip-hop— it's another form of expression," Malbog says. Hip-hop does have a more concrete form of expression besides beats and dancing.

"Of all the elements, graffiti is the most visual and social form of expression," Andres "BMX" Velasquez says matter-of-factly.

Velasquez leafs through the pages of his black book with fingers that still have traces of fresh paint from a recent bombing (writing) session.

"I want to set the record straight on graffing (graffiti)," he says. "It's more than just vandalism - it's art."

Because of the 34th Street Wall, Gainesville is actually a graffing hub in Florida and much of the East Coast. Known simply as "the wall," it has been painted on by graffiti legends from New York, Japan and France.

Velasquez proudly shows off his sketches and explains the meaning behind each one. He stops at a drawing of a hunched-over, muscular drone wearing a gas mask and says it is a statement on the war in Iraq.

"When something is happening in society, it'll usually be reflected in graffiti," he says. "You just have to open your eyes and know what to look out for."

Collective members participate in break-dancing practices Tuesday and Thursday nights at 9p.m. in room two of the Student Recreation and Fitness Center. Emcees and deejays ply their skills at Subversion Records Thursdays at 8 p.m. Graffers also can go to "Writer's Bench" to compare art or opinions.

The plank, shown here, is one of the hardest hip hop positions to hold. (Photo by Claudia Katz)

In the spring 2003, the collective purchased turntables, so members could begin deejaying and emceeing at practices. Hip-hop competitions around the state motivate the group to stay creative.

"Whenever you battle someone, it's like having a conversation or a debate, but it's a physical debate," Tate says, pausing to find the exact words. "And you better have studied because if you didn't study they're going to wipe you out, but it's fair because they didn't touch you or anything. They did theirs, and you couldn't top it. "That lights a fire in your stomach, you know."

However, sometimes those battles aren't casualty-free. UF speech pathology junior Jeremy "Jerm" Weintraub is an extreme break-dancer. He incorporates flips and somersaults and recklessly hurls his body through the air when dancing.

"See my knuckle," he says displaying the colored joint. "I broke that thing two weeks ago, and it still hasn't healed.”

In four years of break-dancing, Weintraub has broken his finger and collarbone; sprained his elbow, ankle, hip, thigh and wrist; and suffered a concussion.

"I just break though. I don't care. I do feel it, you know, but I feel the music even more."

A song comes on that is a little slower than the others, and Weintraub steps over to the boom box to play another one.

"Man, what happened to the music?" someone asks from across the room.

Everybody stops dancing and stares at Weintraub who is shuffling through the CD.

"Hold up bro, I got it," Weintraub replies.

He stops at just the right part of the song with the most juice and sends the room back into motion. In the corner another cypher has formed, and the Hip Hop Collective returns to creating energy.

Produced by Brian Murray and Zachary Sipp

Check out the Hip Hop Collective, home to UF's own Hiphop element.	Want to learn more about Hiphop? Visit Harvard's Hiphop Archive.	Check out the Graffiti Network to see examples of graffiti art from around the world.	Want to know how to talk the talk? Take a look at the Hip-Hoptionary, a dictionary of Hiphop terms available at Amazon.com.