Two weeks ago, fans of mainstream music had fodder for juicy gossip after a massive feud erupted between two of the nation's hottest rap stars. It was like a great Hollywood drama, only it wasn't great, and it wasn't make-believe. These were real, grown men acting like idiots in order to protect their images - images that are long overdue for a change.

Rapper 50 Cent made a radio appearance to announce that up-and-comer the Game would be expelled from 50's clique, G-Unit, apparently for not being loyal. During the appearance, Game rolled up with a posse and entered the station. Shots were fired, and one of Game's pals was injured.

Oh, but as much as America loves a good fight, we love a redemption story even more. As a sadly forced effort to mend the rappers' images and save face for the industry, 50 and Game shared the spotlight to make a public apology last week. They shook hands and said they wanted to put negativity behind them.

Cue the collective, sappy "awwww."

Wait! There's more! Hoping to make good with the public, the rappers dug into their pockets and donated to charity. 50 presented a giant-sized check for $150,000 to the Boys Choir of Harlem; Game's contribution was $103,500. The two also apparently gave money to public school music programs in Game's hometown of Compton.

But it was a gesture almost as hollow and phony as the rappers themselves.

Don't get me wrong, any money given to charity is well-spent. But a showy, oversized check for $150,000 is probably a mere pittance for 50 Cent, whose latest album "The Massacre" sold more than 1.1 million copies in its first four days. Given the lifestyle these guys lead, it's safe to assume this token move was nothing more than a cute act to wipe a little tarnish off their images.

But the negativity problem with these rappers' images - or, let's face it, many rappers' images in general - didn't start with this month's feud, nor will it end with the so-called truce. The problem is the whole "gangsta" image to begin with: the hardcore, weapon-slinging, women-bashing, sex-drugs-and-bling show that too many rappers put on. Guns are "gats," diamonds are "ice" and everything else that's shallow, materialistic and sexist is cool.

So 50 and Game donated a few bills, but who are they kidding? Just check out either of the rapper's latest music videos, song lyrics or CD inserts to view the "real" image they want to portray.

In the insert for 50's "The Massacre," he flexes his muscles and proves his street cred through a series of provocative photos. Here, fans of all ages can see 50 pointing a giant gun at the camera or counting a wad of cash next to scales piled high with cocaine. Or they can flip further and catch him clutching the nearly naked bodies of two gun-toting women, or see him floating in the smoke above what appears to be a splay-legged, tripped-out crack whore with ripped black nylons.

50, get real. If you truly want to put negativity in the past, it's about time to turn around the tired image of "bad boy." It's self-indulgent, it's overdone and frankly, it's cheesy. Pouring milk onto the voluptuous breasts of a rail-thin woman? Come on, that's so cliché.

I'm not doubting the street cred of these artists. But it's time that 50, Game and their crews realized they have a social responsibility that extends beyond dropping some change at the local charity. As high-profile individuals, they have the power to influence others. And far too many young people don't look to leaders or activists for inspiration; they emulate and envy who they watch on MTV.

These rappers should quit sending mixed messages to their fans. It's won't be easy cleaning up the bad boy act, because someone has to be man enough to do it first. But it's time for these artists to quit playing tough for each other and consider who's really watching them. When it comes down to it, they're not fooling anyone but themselves and the countless young music fans who look up to them.

Emily Bingham is the State News music reporter. Reach her at binghame@msu.edu