Since its birth in the Bronx 25 years ago, the culture of hip-hop -- in which the music generates its own language, fashion and accessories -- has grown from an urban street curiosity to a darling of the Establishment and spurred a zillion-dollar industry.

The tricked-out Honda with the shiny 20-inch rims, the long white T-shirt with the thrown-back cap, Oprah Winfrey using the expression bling-bling -- it's all from hip-hop, says Eric Haskins, aka DJ Toast, who has had a rap show on WRPI-FM (91.5) for 15 years. "They're using hip-hop to sell cereal. Every time you spin around, it's there. Hip-hop has gone way beyond its black urban roots, and into suburbia and little communities."

With whites, Asians, Hispanics and adults all getting a piece of it, hip-hop has not only crossed over, some say it's taken over. Corporations have bought into hip-hop as a hot commodity, co-opting the ghetto lifestyle to affect the way all Americans sing, talk, dress, dance and buy.

Rap-savvy young people can make or break a new movie, TV show or CD, say industry experts. Today, about 80 percent of the people buying hip-hop music in the U.S. are white -- like Jacki Odierno, 18, and her younger brother, Tony, 13. They're at Crossgates Mall, hanging in FYE's rap aisle, cruising CDs from Nelly, P.Diddy, 50 Cent and Murphy Lee.

"My parents don't like rap too much -- too much swearing," says the big sister.

"Except they like 'Haley's Song,' by Eminem, about his daughter," says Tony Odierno, who wears baggy cargo shorts, throw-back sports jersey and bling bracelets, shiny watch and thick neck chain slung around his neck. He's been listening to rap since he was 5.

"(Hip-hop) is the story of a society-altering collision between black youth culture and the mass media," writes Nelson George, author of "Hip Hop America," "and it's very big business."

Struggle for soul

The struggle for the soul of hip-hop culture is under way. It's split between the popular and the underground, the corporate profits and respect for true expression.

Some even see a day when the mainstream reaches saturation. "It'll be a backlash, a hip-hop boil down. All the nonsense fluff will go away, and hip-hop will go back to its deeper social meanings," says Haskins, who seeks out local and unknown rap artists to spin during his show. "Really, Nelly and Puff Daddy are the caricatures of what people think of as hip-hop."

Bakari Kitwana, author of "The Hip Hop Generation: Young Blacks and the Crisis in African American Culture," and a forthcoming book, "Why White Kids Love Hip Hop," calls hip-hop the single most significant achievement of this generation. However, he argues that while hip-hop has broken down more racial barriers than any other social development of the past three decades, he also blames it for causing a lot of damage to black youth by perpetuating negative stereotypes, encouraging a consumer culture and providing poor role models. Kitwana questions whether mainstream hip-hop blurs the line between a valuable cultural exchange and paternalism.

Last week, Time magazine named the rap duo OutKast among its 100 most influential people of the year. But the Atlanta-based group has been around for 10 years, and has gone from underground fame in the South's idiosyncratic rap scene to huge global success. Many believe the multiple-Grammy-winning group has done more to broaden the fan base for rap and hip-hop culture than just about any other force around.

It's not hard to see why. "Our rap music section has expanded a lot," says Emily Diggins, 21, the assistant manager of FYE at Crossgates Mall. "And there's a good mix of people buying it -- black and white, and people in their 30s and 40s and older. People used to think all rap was really angry and negative -- people were scared of it. But my dad is 57 and he loves OutKast."

Inside you

DJ Toast offers up an explanation for hip-hop's wide appeal and major addictiveness. "You just get it inside you," says Haskins, 34, who describes himself as an average white guy with a wife and kids and a 9-to-5 job. "To quote a rap song, 'Rap you do, hip-hop you live.'

Here are some ways we're living hip-hop.

Politics:

On MTV last month, Democratic presidential candidate John Kerry said, "I'm fascinated by rap and hip-hop." He went on to defend gangsta rap and freedom of speech, and noted rap's poetry and social energy, saying it's a "reflection of the street and of life." Kerry called hip-hop culture "important."

Within days, Rush Limbaugh, the conservative radio talk-show host, made fun of Kerry saying the senator was "pathetically pandering" to black people. It's more likely Kerry connected to a lot of young white folks with his def mad (really favorable) comments on rap.

One-time presidential candidate Wesley Clark at least proved he was learning a few rap lyrics on the campaign trail. "I don't know much about hip-hop," the general told one audience. "But I do know OutKast can make you shake it like a Polaroid picture."

Advertising:

The cultural influence of hip-hop may be impressive, but the economic impact is enormous. "It is significant," says George, "that advertisers have embraced hip-hop as a way to reach not only black youths, but all youths." And unless you've been bo janglin' (not paying attention), you've seen it: Busta Rhymes doing a Mountain Dew commercial. Tweet using Verizon. Usher eating Twix candy. Wal-mart splashing its line of hip-hop clothes and Burger King hawking hamburgers with rap.

Eminem has a clothing line, called Slim Shady, in department stores in malls across America, as do rappers Jay-Z and P.Diddy.

Movies:

The hit film "8 Mile," starring Eminem, helped moviegoers worldwide understand the underground history of rap music. Some of today's most recognizable faces in the entertainment industry, including Queen Latifah, Ice Cube and Will Smith, started their careers as hip-hop stars. Comedian and actor Chris Rock infuses his stand-up act with rap; "I love hip-hop more than I love my mother," he says.

Music:

Of the 755 million albums sold in 2003, 11 percent were rap music, the main hip-hop genre, and another 23 percent came from rhythm and blues acts, many of whom view themselves as hip-hop artists, according to Neilsen SoundScan. While hip-hop music sales overall held steady last year, in the first week of October 2003, for the first time in the 50-year history of the Billboard charts, all the Top 10 songs in the country were by hip-hop artists. "Get Rich or Die Trying," by rapper 50 Cent was the bestselling album of any music genre in 2003.

The language:

Ever-creative hip-hop lingo has a name for the millions of white people who have made hip-hop culture their own -- Uh-oh Oreo. This term, originally given to the new, reversed version of the classic cookie, refers to a person who is white on the outside and black on the inside.

The lexicographers at the Oxford English Dictionary are out to prove they're playas, too. They've recently added a number of hip-hop-turned-mainstream terms to the OED online updates, like "jiggy," "breakbeat," "whack," "bootylicious," and "phat." The latest entry on the OED-approved list is "bling-bling." "Do-rag" just made the American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language: Fourth Edition.

Dance:

Hip-hop aerobic classes are popping up at gyms and fitness facilities across the Capital Region, filling up with folks of all colors looking to get a groove on and get a great work out. Nudging alongside ballroom, hip-hop dance lessons are jumping across the floors of dance studios, too.

"Hip-hop dance came on the scene and exploded. People can't get enough of it," says Carla Domenico, 27, an Italian-American and physical therapist who also teaches hip-hop dance at ABC Sports and Fitness, downtown Albany's eba dance center, and elsewhere. "The demand for hip-hop is absolutely increasing. There's a certain affinity in all of us for drumming, good beat music. Even if you don't care for the lyrics, you want that beat and you want to dance to it. It's full of life."