A clip went viral last week of Keke Palmer at the Los Angeles protests. As she faced the National Guard, she requested that they join in the march. They declined. Instead, they took a knee with Palmer and those that were marching with her. They said that they needed to guard their post.

Dimitrios Kambouris/Getty Images

In a recent op-ed posted to Variety, Keke Palmer details her experience at the Los Angeles protests and explains the viral clip. "At one point, I spoke with National Guardsmen who were preventing us from marching past a certain point and challenged them to march with us," she wrote. "They didn’t march with us, and while one offered to for a short stretch, he also said he had to “protect the businesses” and buildings in the area."

She said that at that point, she wasn't considered the buildings but the innocent lives lost to racial discrimination and police brutality. And if any of these officers did decide to march with her, it would make a much bigger statement about the systemic oppression Black Americans face regularly.

"In that moment, I wasn’t thinking about who may or may not touch a building; I was thinking about how we’re out here, fighting for a call to protect human lives. And the government is telling you to protect a building? That doesn’t add up to me, and I wanted to challenge them with the question, “How does that add up to you?”

While a few guardsmen knelt, for me that isn’t enough. Kneeling has become a mockery of sorts. Kneeling on George Floyd’s neck is what killed him. Now we see police officers kneeling and then, moments later, attacking peaceful protesters. At this point, the kneeling has no meaning."

You could read her whole piece here. 

This week, while I was discussing different Black revolutionary texts with a friend in the midst of socio-political upheaval, she referenced an incredibly powerful Audre Lorde essay: “The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house,” (which you can read here). In the essay, Lorde explains that to bring about real, systemic change, we cannot work within the same racist institutions and systems built on these principals. As protests erupted in all 50 states this past weekend, and as celebrities chimed in on the dialogue, I think the Black community needs to be reminded of something. 

With the amount of resistance being faced by Black Americans as they attempt to disrupt oppressive systems in the country, one would wonder what makes dismantling white supremacy so controversial. In this piece, I will explain why the Black community needs to let go of respectability politics to usher in a new era of Black liberation. 

Martin Luther King Jr.’s legacy has long been misappropriated as a tool for respectability politics: the idea that marginalized groups need to behave in a ‘respectable way’ in order to receive better treatment from the group in power. This means that Black people need to talk right, act right, and dress right in order to avoid maltreatment from the white ruling class– ‘right’ meaning as closely aligned to whiteness as possible. Respectability politics are best illustrated when Black boys, or men, get murdered by law enforcement and people attempt to justify the killing by bringing up the way they dress, or maybe a history of smoking weed. The justification is that because this Black boy had on a hoodie and sagging pants, and because this Black boy smelled like weed, he therefore deserved it. Not all Black boys wear hoodies and sag their pants, and not all Black boys smoke weed, however, the point is, Black boys are policed as if these things equate to them being a criminal. George Zimmerman described Trayvon Martin as wearing a hoodie the night he killed the unarmed teenager, and claimed self-defense in fear for his life. The judge in the case also allowed evidence of Martin’s marijuana use to be used in the case, although this had absolutely nothing to do with Martin’s murder. 

AUGUST 1963 – Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. addresses a crowd at the March On Washington D.C – CNP/Getty Images

The idea of respectability politics is that, if Black people act and conduct themselves in a “proper manner,” they can avoid being subjected to white violence. They can avoid being lynched, they can avoid being murdered by law enforcement, and black women, specifically, can avoid disproportionately dying in childbirth due to medical racism. 

The appeal of respectability politics is understandable. There’s a desire to disarm and dismantle harmful stereotypes by instead exposing people to counter-stereotypic examples. If Black people are stereotyped as “poor,” “lazy,” and “thugs,” then exposing people to college-educated Black scholars or the Black elite who are actively disproving these stereotypes is rational. However, we need to finally recognize that respectability politics is nothing more than a coping mechanism that places the burden of change on marginalized communities. It also is not the answer in the fight for equality, systemic racism cannot be combated with “proper” behavior. Dr. King was still assassinated, regardless of how “respectable” he was. 

1963: civil rights leaders, including Martin Luther King, Jr., protest with signs as they march on D.C. – Buyenlarge/Getty Images 

Respectability politics has become so deeply internalized in the Black community that we’ve convinced ourselves we can avoid white hate by simply not acting in a way they would deem deplorable. As rapper Noname said, white supremacy is masterful because of the number of tools it employs for different oppressive systems. Respectability politics is no different. Our celebrities and Black elite are often agents of white supremacy by pushing the narrative of respectability politics, believing that members of the community can earn respect from white America by simply “acting right.”

Last week, Shameik Moore offered a thread to the black community on how to best “avoid” being killed by the police. Somehow, Shameik rationalized that we must work within our community to get the white ruling class to stop killing our people. “I refuse to have a slave mentality,” He said. “I don’t not fear for my life because I know how to carry myself in tuff situations.” Last Saturday, two Atlanta college students, Messiah Young and Taniyah Pilgrim, were surrounded by six officers who tased them and dragged them out of their car as they attempted to leave a protest after curfew. Young sustained a fractured arm and 24 stitches when he was pulled from the car. Excessive force was still used against Young and Pilgrim by law enforcement, despite their status as being college-educated. With the power of education, these students certainly do not have a “slave mentality,” yet were still brutalized by law enforcement.

MAY 1963 – A water cannon is used on Black children and teens, during a protest against segregation, organized by Martin Luther King Jr. and Reverend Fred Shuttlesworth, in Birmingham, Alabama – Frank Rockstroh/Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images

Lil Wayne argued that when speaking about police brutality, you need to get specific. You can’t blame all white people or all cops. Wayne said, “And if we want to place the blame on anybody, it should be ourselves for not doing more than what we think we’re doing.” To Wayne, it’s solely the black community’s responsibility to do more, in order to avoid potential violent run-ins with law enforcement. Wayne does not believe there is a systemic problem in the criminal justice system, despite UN Human Rights appointed experts calling for the U.S. to reform their criminal justice system which has roots in slavery. 

MAY 1963 – A Black woman fights with policemen during a protest against segregation in Birmingham, Alabama – Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images

Killer Mike who comes from a family of police officers, pleaded with Atlanta citizens at a recent press conference, as they ravaged through their city to “stop burning down their own homes.” He said that now is not the time to riot, but instead to plan and organize, to vote for new officials, and to ensure the police officers involved in George Floyd’s murder are prosecuted. Prosecuting the officers involved will do little for systemic change in an institution founded on racism. The U.S. Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) has recently been granted permission to investigate people protesting George Floyd’s death. Now, what does the DEA have to do with socio-political upheaval? Absolutely nothing.

“Drug enforcement” has long been used as a euphemism for racial profiling. The fact that the DEA is involved at all–the same government body that waged the War on Drugs which has had devastating long term impacts on the Black community– illustrates America’s institutional racism perfectly. Even with reform within the local criminal justice systems, there’s still a larger change within federal law enforcement that needs to happen in order to fully eradicate systemic oppression.

What all of these prominent figures in Black culture fail to realize is that white supremacy will not and cannot be dismantled with respectability politics. This narrative of respectability politics is dangerous. It does nothing to tackle the actual issue of white supremacy. Black people should not have to earn respect to be treated humanely. Black people should not have to conduct themselves in a specific manner to avoid being murdered at the hands of law enforcement. Respectability politics will not dismantle 200-year-old systems of white supremacy deeply entrenched in the very institution that is meant to protect us. If we attempt to use the same systems created to oppress us to achieve change, none of our efforts will be longstanding. 

The blueprint for law enforcement in the United States originated from slave patrols in the nineteenth century. These slave patrols had three main priorities: “(1) to chase down, apprehend, and return to their owners, runaway slaves; (2) to provide a form of organized terror to deter slave revolts; and, (3) to maintain a form of discipline for slave-workers who were subject to summary justice, outside the law.” This organized terror was considered a civic duty, to subdue and oppress African Americans in the South as much as possible. Slave patrols also enforced curfews and worked to prevent any sort of organized resistance. Now, 200 years later, as American law enforcement patrol through American cities aggressively attempting to subdue protestors and enforce curfews, one would wonder what has truly changed since the era of slave patrols. The whole system of American policing was built on principles of white supremacy and it is past the point of reforming, simply prosecuting officers involved in George Floyd and Breonna Taylor’s murder is not enough. The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.

1831: Slaves rebelling in Virginia during the revolt led by Nat Turner – MPI/Getty Images

Even now, as protests across the country turn into riots, respectability politics still echoes in many criticisms of protestors. A particular comment I came across regarding the rioting and looting in Minneapolis that ensued last week really struck me with the level of naivety and flawed thinking: “They were taking us serious before y’all started robbing Target.” Not only is this untrue, but it also places unrealistic expectations on Black rage. White people can trash a city and riot for no reason other than their sports team losing a game, which is precisely what happened in 2018 when the Philadelphia Eagles defeated the New England Patriots in the Super Bowl LII. Patriots fans in Philadelphia began to flip cars and light trash cans on fire in the streets. This happened again after the 2016 World Series, and again after the 2014 World Series. Yet, somehow, Black anger from centuries of systemic racism is inappropriate. 

To the Black community, it is time to let go of respectability politics. As long as white supremacy persists, we will never completely earn that “respect,” no matter how close we assimilate to whiteness. The media paints protestors as violent and senseless rioters and looters with no purpose, but the truth is, Black people are fed up. As Malcolm X once said, “If you’re not careful the newspapers will have you hating the oppressed and loving the people who are doing the oppressing.” Black people have tried peaceful protesting. We have tried kneeling. We have tried raising awareness. We have tried respectability politics. And yet, they still keep killing us. 

MAY 2020 – Police remove people from a vehicle during the George Floyd protest in Minneapolis, Minnesota – Scott Olson/Getty Images

Unfortunately, you can’t fight tear gas with roses and eucalyptus. You can’t and shouldn’t have to be peaceful in reaction to 200 years of white violence. As the president hides away in a bunker ready to wage war against his citizens, even he cannot deny that the revolution is upon us. And it is not meant to be pretty. It is time to dismantle the system.

I leave you with some Black liberation texts to explore if you want to understand how to achieve full liberation. New Reader has provided a collection of texts completely free of charge by prominent race scholars like Audre Lorde, bell hooks, James Baldwin, and Huey P. Newton. Here is the link. The answers are in the text.

There was something different about watching Geroge Floyd get murdered. We have seen countless videos of police killing unarmed Black Americans on the internet these past few years, but this one hit differently. Do you remember Philando Castile, who was murdered in his car while his girlfriend recorded from the passenger seat? How about Walter Scott, who was shot in the back as he ran from a cop who pulled him over for a tail light infringement? Do you recall Stephon Clark, who was shot at his grandma’s home in Sacramento?

The list of videos goes on and on. But watching Mr. Floyd die was different. Maybe it was the circumstances that made it feel distinctive. We are always told that police “feared” for their life. But former officer Derek Chauvin wasn’t scared. No. In fact, he was calm, cool, and collected as he peered down at Mr. Floyd croaking for help. 

“Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable,”

– John F. Kennedy

A militant protester expresses his emotions in front of a police vehicle damaged earlier in the day. Credit HNHH 

How unbothered are you by the thought of repercussion that you would murder someone in broad daylight, on a public street, with multiple witnesses? I’m afraid to smoke a joint on my lunch break and get caught, much less kill someone. What does it say about the system if a cop was so unconcerned with repercussions that he could remain calculated while slowly murdering an unarmed man? It says the system does not scare bad cops. They aren’t afraid of breaking the law, because many of them think they are the law. Even if they uphold the law, they also uphold systemic racism. 

I was on the front lines this past weekend in Los Angeles. The sign I held says it all: “If the courts won’t hold the police accountable, the citizens will hold the city accountable.” I keep hearing and seeing people say, “be more like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Be peaceful.” But those people glorify one man who remained strong in the face of absolute mayhem. Dr. King was beaten, hosed, imprisoned, and ultimately murdered. Dr. King is the pinnacle of peace and love but let’s not forget — it was militant activists that scared the White House so ridiculously that they had to acquiesce to a peaceful Black leader to help quell the unrest. There is no Dr. King without the other side of the coin. Even women got violent when they protested for their right to vote. Both diplomacy and force have been needed to secure the rights of the historically oppressed and systematically suppressed populations. Using only force or only diplomacy doesn’t work. There has always needed to be a balance. 

Protesters on Fairfax and 3rd in Los Angeles send a message. Credit HNHH

The Fair Housing Act of 1968 was arguably the last piece of important legislation passed during the Civil Rights Era. It faced heavy opposition in congress upon its creation. It barely passed in the House, and was expected to be gutted and watered down by the Senate before going through the rounds and finally reaching the President, Lyndon B. Johnson. The day of the Senate vote, Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated. It caused massive protests and riots around the nation. Over 100 cities caused nearly $50 million in damage, which is roughly $370 million in 2020, adjusted for inflation. President Johnson increased pressure on Congress to pass The Fair Housing Act. In fact, pressure mounted so heavily that Congress put their foot on the gas. In a matter of days, the bill was passed. Whenever someone tells you that only peaceful protests can be a catalyst for change, tell them that story. And there are many more where that came from.  

 “It is not enough for me to stand before you tonight and condemn riots. It would be morally irresponsible for me to do that without, at the same time, condemning the contingent, intolerable conditions that exist in our society. These conditions are the things that cause individuals to feel that they have no other alternative than to engage in violent rebellions to get attention. And I must say tonight that a riot is the language of the unheard,”

– Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Looters are abhorrent. They’re opportunistic and self-centered. Rioters are a different story altogether. For many, there’s only so many times you can get prodded by police batons, hit with tear gas, and run from a barrage of rubber bullets before you start to get physical. In the words of Dave Chappelle, there is only a finite amount of horrible things somebody can go through before they lose their cool and their minds. For many also dealing with the fallout of COVID-19, the atrocities that occurred with Mr. Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Amhuad Arbery were the tipping points.

That’s right. These protests and riots aren’t just about Mr. Floyd. He was the straw that broke the camel’s back. This is for Sandra Bland, Breonna Taylor, Freddie Gray, Eric Garner, and countless others. This is the cry of a population that pleaded and pleaded for the public to hear Colin Kaepernick’s message. Millions who stood by and watched a peaceful and very famous activist lose his job because of kneeling. I caution you to heed diplomacy next time it appears. A Dr. King or a Colin Kaepernick come along once in a generation. Will you listen next time? Things do not need to escalate to this point, and we should work together to make sure it never does. I bet you anything most of America would elect to go back to peaceful kneeling, but like the year serendipitously reminds us: hindsight is always 20/20.

“I know being a cop is hard. I know that shit’s dangerous. But some jobs can’t have bad apples. Some jobs, everybody gotta be good. Like … pilots. American Airlines can’t be like, ‘Most of our pilots like to land. We just got a few bad apples that like to crash into mountains.'”

– Chris Rock

There was something about being on the front lines in Los Angeles this weekend that changed me forever. When I was pushed by police,  groups of white protestors would come to my defense. They would form barriers or lines around, and in front of, Black protestors. When we were hit with tear gas, there were dozens of people rushing up with gallons of milk to help us douse our faces. Medics and EMTs showed up on their day off to tend to those who got hit with rubber bullets or who could not overcome the powerful tear gas and fainted or fell ill. There were checkpoints with food and water on every block. It was a togetherness I had never felt before. It was four thousand people that all said, “enough is enough.” We all watched out for each other. I didn’t see ANTIFA. I didn’t see “thugs.” What I saw was thousands of souls connected by a singular motive. Bound by the American Dream, which is the freedom to pursue happiness, these protestors were fighting against injustice. 

Should we push for violence? No. But there must be action. “No Justice, No Peace” means there must be accountability. These judges, these district attorneys, the power of the police unions, and the fear good cops have of being reprimanded have allowed police to feel like they are above the law. They say, “It’s horrible Black men are being killed by police, but the rioting needs to stop.” Instead, try “It’s horrible riots are happening, but Black men being murdered by police needs to stop.” You don’t blame the symptoms for the disease. 

What is the answer then? Stop killing unarmed and innocent civilians. There is no other acceptable answer. There are several steps we can take to make this possible. First, police in America need better training. On average, the police academy in America lasts about 6 months. In many counties in Europe –Germany for example– they train for two and a half years. American police are severely undertrained.

Second, cops need to know they are hurting their fellow co-workers. There must be financial punishments put in place for cops that commit egregious crimes like what we witnessed with Mr. Floyd. Police are often split into divisions, groups, or squads. When one officer in a squad, or division, commits an outrageous crime, everyone in that group should be docked pay or lose a percentage of their pension. That way, cops know that if they mess up, they will be directly hurting their co-workers. Making co-workers more accountable for each other is a proven way to establish accountability in the workplace.

Third, police should be required to partake in community service in a neighborhood before they are allowed to patrol there. Pay them for their time and mandate at least 40 hours of community service. The cops should be meeting the people in their community, and vice-versa. This will reduce fear and stop destruction on both sides.

Last but not least, corrupt police need to be jailed. There needs to be a counter-culture in police departments, which the good cops must reinforce. There are good cops who are scared to speak up because their superiors are complicit or involved. They could lose their job, or worse, put their family’s lives in danger. This is the hardest part of the plan, but there needs to be a culture in police departments that explicitly works to combat the shroud of corruption and cover-ups. Remember, the official police statement for Mr. Floyd said he resisted arrest, and police happened to notice he was suffering from “medical distress.” If we never got the video of his death, the official story would be that Mr. Floyd resisted an arrest and died of medical distress while doing so. These cover-ups can no longer be accepted by the good cops. 

Protesters face off against the police on a nearby roof shooting rubber bullets and cops advancing on foot. Credit HNHH

This is America, arguably the greatest constitutional republic in all of history. We set an example for the world. Protests have spread to Europe and beyond, where our cries for equality have been taken up by empathetic onlookers who have never stepped foot in our country. When we as Americans demand equality, the rest of the free world watches. What will we show them? What side of history will you be on? Whether or not we have your support, we do have your attention. And that’s a start. 

Former NBA star Kareem Abdul-Jabbar penned a powerful op-ed, published in the Los Angeles Times, Sunday, regarding the death of George Floyd and the protests being held across the country.

Dominik Magdziak / Getty Images

"African Americans have been living in a burning building for many years, choking on the smoke as the flames burn closer and closer," he wrote. "Racism in America is like dust in the air. It seems invisible -- even if you're choking on it -- until you let the sun in. Then you see it's everywhere."

The Hall of Famer defended the protesters and spoke about the systemic racism inherent in all levels of our society.

Tory Lanez is unstoppable. Not in the sense of being the greatest of all time or wielding god-like power. No, Lanez is unstoppable in another way. Four years ago, Lanez debuted his album I Told You for Interscope Records. He generated a worthy buzz but wasn’t granted that next level of praise because another Canadian rapper/singer was flooding the airwaves. No worries. Lanez had already released over a dozen mixtapes prior to signing with Interscope, so he was no stranger to hard work. He went into the studio and came out with the mixtapes Chixtape IV and The New Toronto 2 before releasing his sophomore album, Memories Don’t Die. A few months later, Lanez’s third album dropped, Love Me Now? The sheer will power and work ethic of Lanez is what truly makes him unstoppable. His grind doesn’t appear to have any inkling of what “stopping” even means, it’s a driving force pushing his creative efforts.

After blessing Interscope with 4 albums and a handful of mixtapes, Lanez is ready for his departure project. Lanez announced the album, The New Toronto 3, and its release month on Twitter at the end of February. Although he tweeted that there was “no bad blood with the label,” fans of the artist know this to be untrue. Just a few months ago, Lanez hopped on social media to deliver a scathing warning to Interscope, asserting, “If y’all n***as don’t stop playing w/ me … I’ma expose what’s really going on in that fucking building!” Now that the relationship is coming to an official end, what should we expect from Lanez’s final album for Interscope?

Rich Fury/Getty Images

Bars

Lanez’s last album was Chixtape 5, which makes his shift to The New Toronto 3 thematically sound. Chixtape 4 was released alongside The New Toronto 2, so for Lanez to continue his penchant of placing these two mixtape projects near each other makes sense, at least from a continuity with fans perspective. What we determined from Chixtape 4 and The New Toronto 2 is that Lanez tends to shift to R&B bangers for one, and aims to keep it more hip-hop on the other. With that in mind, fans are expecting The New Toronto 3 to be more of a hip-hop/rap effort with Lanez showing off his lyrical strength. Chixtape 5 was a gorgeous and nostalgic R&B thrill ride, but let’s not forget Lanez can rap his ass off. Just based on his past moves, it looks like Lanez will be putting the bars front and center on this project. The first indication that this is correct comes by way of yesterday’s single, “W,” which is a nostalgic, bar-riddled effort.

Limited Collabs

The number of features on Chixtape 5 was impressive, and everyone played their part. And we know Lanez has several friends and peers in the industry he enjoys collaborating with. Still, The New Toronto 3 would work best as a lightly collaborative project. Lanez should keep the features to a minimum. It will give him the maximum amount of creative freedom while crafting his last piece of art for Interscope. Much like Jay-Z’s Black Album, Outkast’s ATLiens, or Nas‘ Stillmatic, the philosophy of including just a few other rappers on the record adds to the mysticism of the classic. We have seen Lanez go featureless before on his debut for Interscope, and it would be perfect timing to employ that method one more time.

Production

So far, fans have gotten two tracks from Lanez that are either on the new album, or are throwaways that almost made it. “Broke In A Minute” and “W” both came with colorful visuals that make us feel it’s the former option. “Broke In A Minute” features a repetitive horn that spirals around angrily as Lanez drops dizzying bars. “W” has a more cinematic instrumental, a calming vibe that is best suited for night time, introspective driving. Based on the two opposite directions in production we have seen so far, fans can expect an eclectic sound to this project. Since bars seem to be the center focus for Lanez, we expect him to explore beats that aren’t too complicated. “Broke In A Minute” and “W” may have different vibes, but they are both simplistic beats. This allows Lanez’s listeners to hear his bars more clearly– these beats were made for bars. Busy instrumentals weighed down by layers upon layers of samples or instrumentals that consistently evolve as the song progresses probably won’t make a big splash on The New Toronto 3. “W” was produced by Saint Mino & 2one2 and “Broke In A Minute” was crafted by Papiyerr. While Papiyerr has worked with Lanez on several occasions (“The Take,” “Jerry Sprunger,” “Luv Ya Gyal // Love Sounds”) Saint Mino & 2one2 are new to the Lanez catalog. This shows that Lanez will be experimenting with new production on this album as well.

Final Thoughts

Manny Carabel/Getty Images

The clear cut path here for Lanez is to create a classic to leave Interscope on that is lyrically potent but still delivers radio quality singles. Lanez has earned plenty of success on Billboard with his more R&B sound; The New Toronto 3 must exceed those expectations from a hip-hop standpoint. 

“I remember being so broke shit I ain’t wanna have no babies, We was project planning, the clip came with that black Mercedes,” raps Lanez on the new single “W”. “If you was pussy then, you pussy now, you can’t erase it, I never saw us becoming famous in my imagination, Sat in too many rooms with losers who was procrastinating.” His bars are vivid and the instrumental is eerily marvelous. This may just be a track that missed the cut, judging on its length, but it is still an indication of where Lanez is heading on this one. What would you like to hear from Lanez’s new album The New Toronto 3? Sound off in the comments below.

In this series, we’ll be making the case for specific rappers to be included in “greatest of all-time” discussions. The more obvious choices (such as André 3000, Lil Wayne, Eminem, Jay-Z, Nas, Biggie, 2Pac) will be ignored in favor of artists who tend to get overlooked these days, for one reason or another. Previously, our writers have made cases for Pusha T, Ice Cube, DJ Quik, Big Boi, DMX, Ghostface Killah and Busta Rhymes. Today, we’re bringing back the series to pay homage to Slug.

Atmosphere is a rare commodity in hip-hop. Even in our current era when there is generally more of everything. Even with the oversaturation of hip-hop artists, we’re somehow pretty slim on duos — especially when it comes to duo such as Slug and Ant, where truly, each one plays a distinct role. Slug raps. Ant produces. And that’s it. It’s not to say that this is what makes them avant garde, it’s simply a discernable feature.

For the purpose of this argument we will focus solely on Slug. Slug, born Sean Michael Daley in Minneapolis, Minnesota has done more for hip-hop than your average pop-leaning rap fan might have you believe. Slug managed to put Minneapolis on the Rap Map way before it was a thing you could do “at your fingertips”– before the Internet at large could break down geographical borders and spread music instantly. His was the type of grassroots push that goes unseen in modern times. 

Slug debuted alongside his then-group-collaborator Spawn with the album Overcast! in 1997. While it’s an album he’s gone on to criticize in later years, it’s important nonetheless. By Slug’s own estimation he was trying too hard– but really, what’s wrong with that? For all intents and purposes, Slug is mostly trying to be lyrical, trying to paint a picture, create a scene in the mind’s eye. In the process he was getting more cerebral than many of his mainstream contemporaries.

That is one of the ways that Slug exhibits his GOAT status. It’s the details he puts into his rhymes and his mastery of the English language– he creates allegories and metaphors on a wider scale than the context of two bars (think: “Lucy Ford”), which offer a constant throughline in much of his music. There are certain metaphors or elements that recur in Atmosphere’s music, and each time, Slug offers the listener another piece of the puzzle. 

On a song like “Sound Is Vibration” from the debut, the poetic and introspective touch that many of his songs are known for is on full display. The song begins with fairytale-esque chimes while Slug’s lyrics add to the feeling: “I’m sparked, waiting for the dark to hit / Cause once the moon gets above my apartment / I catch fits for starting shit”— his own intonation rising with each bar as the beat picks up fervor. 

On his underground hit off the same album, “Scapegoat,” Slug details the ails of society in a templated manner with a minimal piano-key-driven beat backing his effort. The concept doesn’t make the song any less impactful, yet Slug has been particularly critical of his songwriting: “While it did get us booked on mix shows across the country, I felt it was almost a ‘cheating’ style of writing. I use the word ‘It’s’ over 50 times. That’s the hook. It’s cheating.” Though slightly masochistic in nature, his constant self-critique and analysis has ultimately allowed for his artistic growth and improvement in the creation of songs that offer more depth and variation than “Scapegoat.” 

Slug takes the road less travelled when it comes to creating rap music. He’s been able to connect with his fanbase so deeply because he truly reveals himself and his person in a way that a lot of rappers simply don’t. He’s also distanced himself from some of the rather superficial yet all-too-common tropes, including those centered around materialism. These factors have not only set him apart and created a cult-like following for the underground artist, but they’ve been instrumental in building his independent label, Rhymesayers– and again, let’s be clear that Rhymesayers was founded as an independent label way before (the year was 1995) it became the trend du-jour. It’s also a feat that comes without the major label distribution too, a sort of loop-hole we seem to find many “indie” labels doing these days. 

As far as the depth instilled in Slug’s pen, one of the prevalent metaphors in Slug’s music was this idea of Lucy Ford, or Lucifer— sometimes thought to be referring to hip-hop itself, other times his vices such as alcohol, or else, the mother of Slug’s child. This theme was woven through out the duo’s discography, from EPs to Atmosphere’s second studio album, God Loves Ugly, with the song “F’@k You Lucy”:

Most of this garbage I write that these people seem to like 

Is about you and how I let you infect my life 

And if they got to know you, I doubt that they would see it 

They’d wonder what I showed you, how you could leave it 

A friend in Chicago said that I should stay persistent 

If I stay around I’m bound to break resistance 

Fuck you, Lucy, for defining my existence 

Fuck you and your differences 

Ever since I was a young lad with a part-time dad 

It was hard to find happiness inside of what I had 

I studied my mother, I digested her pain 

And vowed no women on my path would have to walk the same

Whereas someone like Eminem might be a wizard with internal rhyming and lyrical acrobatics, one of Slug’s best writing qualities is the artful and purposeful nature behind his lyrics. Slug doesn’t just put two bars together and move on to the next two, with ideas unrelated (and this comes back to his own self-affirmed idea that, at the time, he was not just rapping “to string words together.”). Each bar helps to bring a larger picture and a personal affectation into view. His penchant for constant self-reflection (as well as self-deprecation) inevitably leads to growth, too, with the development of his family life coming to affect how he viewed his lyrics in retrospect. Slug was about that Dad Rap life before Kanye West did it. If we’re tracing the lineage, it may go back to just around/after When Life Gives You Lemons, You Paint That Shit Gold (2008). The album that followed would be Family Sign (2011), the album that began to clearly mark a new era in Atmosphere’s music.

Before Slug became the Family Man he is today, he was battling demons like the rest of us– and they’re the usual suspects too– alcohol, depression, cigarettes, weed, himself, women. All of these vices fueled his early music and created some of the darkest, yet most relatable, music he’s released. On a song like “Bird Sings Why Caged I Know” the rapper adopts themes from Maya Angelou (who else??), over a haunting and impactful soul-riddled beat from Ant. It’s here we can really see Slug’s unique writing style — it’s conceptual and rife with interpretation.

It’s the bird, it must have been the bird

Disgusting critter, it must

We should have known better than to trust

This disease-infested ball of lust and carnage

Piece of garbage with wings and she has the guts to sing

Get the bird, catch her, shoot her, I don’t care

Get the bird, bring her down to the ground from out the air

Got to tear her apart, let me at her first

Sink her to the level of the rest of us that inhabit the earth

We can’t end a piece like this without highlighting the fan-favourite and perhaps Atmosphere “piece de resistance”, the album namesake “God Loves Ugly.” On the title track of the album, the rapper singles out his failings as a man and as an artist, and he offers them to the listener shame-free.

I wear my scars like the rings on a pimp

I live life like the captain of a sinking ship

The one thing that I can guarantee

I’m like a stepping razor, I suggest you stay fair with me

Been paying dues for a decade plus

Before that I was just another face on the bus

Tappin’ my foot, to the beat on the radio

Dreaming ’bout the mic and the money and the ladies

Oh mom, I promise I’m gonna be large

Some day I’ma stop trying to borrow your car

Gonna go far, with charisma and skill

Until they put my face on a million dollar bill

Atmosphere, it’s just a ten letter word

Discretion is the name of my cement-feathered bird

And if you didn’t hear, then fuck what others heard

Bars like “Discretion is the name of my cement-feathered bird” are among Slug’s defining lyrical features, in the sense that they sound cool as fuck on surface level, but they also require some unpacking. It’s the perfect example of how Slug’s lyrics are often the intersection between art and personal life and the crises therein. It’s lofty for the average rapper, yet for Slug, it might be a throw-away bar. It’s exactly this type of writing, though, that has proven Slug’s GOAT status as an MC constantly throughout his career, and why his flowers are due.

On a rather unsuspecting Mario remix, Lil Wayne delivered Drake’s favorite Weezy verse of all time. The song, “Crying Out For Me,” was initially released as the second single from Mario’s album Go, which despite mostly favorable reviews, didn’t necessarily do anything exciting on the charts. The single, likewise, peaked at #33 on the Billboard Hot 100 when it dropped in December, 2007. The remix, which featured Lil Wayne and alternately Busta Rhymes, was released a few months later and remains one of those in-between-records that, despite being an “official” release at the time, never truly found a home, whether it be on streaming services or an album. Wayne has plenty of songs like these, especially from the year 2007.

Ben Rose/WireImage for Radio One/Hot 107.9/Getty Images

‘07 Wayne was during the peak of his ”Best Rapper Alive” era, which resulted in The Leak EP– as well as many other leaks which did not receive such a formal release (VIBE did a list of the 77 Best Lil Wayne Songs of 2007)– and culminated with the release of Tha Carter III in 2008. It was this acclaimed 2007 run that truly helped build Wayne’s reputation, and equally, helped him become such a dominant force on the Internet. He was prolific in a way we had yet to see, and in a way that the Internet, we now know, is made for. That is to say, the Internet requires constant fueling, a constant stream of ‘new,’ and Wayne whether or not he intended, ensured the Internet always had something new from him. A freestyle, a leak, a guest verse. There was also less hip-hop fodder to compete with at the time, too. Becoming a rapper overnight was not yet a thing, Soundcloud was only founded in 2007 and did not have the notoriety it currently does. Generally-speaking, hip-hop had not yet fully taken over pop culture’s dialogue in the same way it has presently, but even so, Wayne was well on his way to pop culture stardom. 

There are many fan-favorite Wayne songs that make up his 2007 run. There’s “I Feel Like Dying,” there’s “Prostitute Flange,” there’s “La La La,” there’s “I’m Me.” His verse on “Crying Out For Me” is not usually among the discourse. However it’s an important marker in Weezy’s style. Wayne’s has a history of lyrics about his sexual exploits, so lyrics about a girl are not necessarily new territory. However, a whole verse detailing a rather mundane if not awkward conversation with a girl, littered with one-word text-responses, is. 

So I met this shawty the other day 

I got her number called her up like: “What ya doin’?” 

She say: “Nuuu’in” 

I say: “What’s good?” 

She say: “Not much?” 

I say: “Guess what?” 

She say “What’s up?” 

I say: “I think we should hook up”

She say “uh” 

I say: “What?” 

She say: “But..” 

I say: “But, why you stuck?” 

She say: “Fuck!” 

I said: “Who?” 

She say: “Not you”

 I say: “Then who?” 

She say: “You know.”

“I know what?” 

“You know who” 

I say: “I do?” 

She said: “You do” 

I said: “I do”

And that’s the end of the transcript. What transpired from there, we can only guess. One thing is for certain, the verse does not end in, or include a, sexual escapade, which would be the norm for most Wayne verses of this variety– at least the ones that begin in a similar fashion.

Wayne employed this method in future verses, and even tried it out to lesser effect in verses prior to Mario’s remix, but none compared to the length and detail contained within this particular verse. This lyrical template wasn’t usually about Wayne getting shut down– quite the opposite. 

As early as his debut album, with the song “Kisha,” he was going into the he-say-she-say of relationships in a conversational, story-telling manner:

Got a early call from Kisha, Kisha wanted me to meet her

She said she thought it was time to make the relationship get deeper

Said cool then I’m gon’ beep ya

What would be a good time to reach ya

She said what about ten but l thought eleven would be sweeter

Cuz she wanted me to see her, said I needed a teaser

On ‘07 era Tha Carter III leak titled “Lisa Marie,” Wayne reveals another bit of dialogue with a lover:

I told her I would write a rhyme about her and it would be sweet

I said I need the perfect track, she said, “That’s deep”

On the 2013 song, “Itchin’” Wayne goes into even more detail of the back-and-forth relationship-centric dialogue, with a hook that’s entirely based around it: 

Yeah, I told her take her drawers off and she says I ain’t wearin’ none

I asked her, “Who this pussy for?” She said “Ransom”

And when she says “I Love You”, I say, “Shut up, take this dick”

She treat me like a God and tell her man she atheist

And then he calls with all that bitchin’

“Who is this?” She busy, call her later

There are plenty of other examples we could cull from the countless songs in Wayne’s career, however they are often found within the context of one or two bars only, collaborating with the rest of the lyrics in whatever strange way Wayne has deemed fit.

She said she eat her vegetables so she stay alive

So she slobbed on my knob

Like corn on the cob 

He raps on “Gettin’ Some Head” off of Dedication 2.

The fact that the verse on “Crying Out For Me” allowed us to see a vulnerable Wayne (for all intents and purposes), a Wayne who could not get the girl (at least not immediately and not to our knowledge) is revealing in itself. Drake is often credited for bringing emotions into the fold of hip-hop, he is a rapper who wears his emotions and his vulnerabilities on his sleeve. Drake’s favorite Wayne verse is essentially the most Drake-y Wayne verse there is. So that may not be surprising in and of itself. However it does tell us something when it comes to influence, as low key as it might be. 

It’s interesting to piece the threads of influence together when it comes to Wayne. Wayne is credited for a lot of things openly: the use of cough syrup and prescription pills, auto-tune (but yes, T-Pain too), odd-ball metaphors & wardrobe choices, an entire generation of artists in the vein of Young Thug; it could even be argued that Wayne influenced the whole idea of prolificness as a means to fame. The blueprint that 2 Chainz used in a lead-up to his own success was the same one Wayne followed circe ‘06/‘07: releasing an insane amount of music and collaborating with any and everyone. It’s a blueprint many young artists still imitate: Russ did it when he dropped a song every week on Soundcloud for two years straight. Wayne addressed his hard-working nature in a 2007 XXL interview as well, shrugging off claims of oversaturation– around the same time 50 Cent referred to Weezy as an “industry whore” because of all the music he was out there collaborating on. Despite the many credits Wayne has received for his overall influence on hip-hop , he’s not necessarily credited for anything on rap’s emotional spectrum, which is of course becoming more and more woven into the fabric of the music. 

Clearly, this Mario verse is also not very emotional. It’s too brief for that. However it still must springboard from an emotional well, the same one that has created a whole genre of heartbroken-rap-love songs. The verse arrived when rap was still much more focused on bravado and getting the girl rather than stories of the opposite. We can’t claim that this verse is the sole influence and only reason behind Drake’s emo approach, but we can imagine that it’s certainly a factor, especially by his own admission. “You really just rapped about an awkward, confusing conversation with a girl that actually would happen? Just because I’m a conversational artist, so to get that verse off, and tie it off at the end,” Drake says in awe during a VEVO interview discussing the verse.

Kevin Winter/Getty Images

Things finally came full circle when Drake and Wayne collaborated on “HYFR,” and Drizzy was able to flex his own text exchange in a very-clearly-Wayne inspired manner. Recorded for Drake’s 2012 album Take Care, the song is about romantic entanglements both past and present. Drizzy adopts Wayne’s “Crying Out For Me” blueprint but fills in the missing gaps– the story itself is more detailed, the text messages are more elaborate.

And we never talk too much after I blew up

Just only “hello” or a “happy belated”

And I think I text her and told her I made it 

And that’s when she text me and told me she prayed it 

And that’s when I text her and told her I love her 

Then right after texted and told her I’m faded 

She asked what have I learned since getting richer

The song is one that centers around blocking out emotions rather than dealing with them, though, as past trauma from relationships re-surfaces for both artists. “Interviews are like confessions,” in the sense that they are revealing, they are telling– and right now, neither Drake nor Wayne wants to confess or deal with these emotions beyond a temperate and rather useless “Hell yeah.”

While we cannot credit Wayne as the main force behind the love-scorned-rap movement, we can credit his influence on Heartbreak Drake and we can trace the lines of influence, as faded as they might be. Somehow: it all goes back to Drake.  

A superhero died yesterday.

To some, he may have been just a basketball player, but to millions more, he was invincible– a man who could hit two clutch free throws, limping on a torn Achilles, a man who could score 81 points in a single game, a man who, while being the best at it, showed us there was more to life than just basketball. Kobe Bryant was a hero.

Sure, I was undersized and never anything special, but it didn’t matter. When the bell rang and school was over, the first place I wanted to be was the basketball court. I wanted to reenact the moves I saw my hero, Kobe, make the night before on ESPN.

I’d have to heave the ball with all my strength just for it to reach the hoop from where Kobe hit the impeccable game-winner over Dwyane Wade in December of 2009, but when the ball finally went in, I felt like Kobe Bryant. I was shooting from the edge of a driveway in Charlestown, Rhode Island, but I felt like I was in front of thousands at the Staples Center. I could escape the stresses of middle school, the low self-esteem of my anxious 12-year-old self and, for just a moment, feel like I was invincible, because Kobe Bryant was invincible. Kobe Bryant was Super-Man.

This story is likely similar to millions of other kids who looked up to Kobe and found solace on the basketball court.

He was an assassin– 33,643 career points, 18 all-star selections, five NBA championships, an MVP award and countless more accolades. He was one of the rare competitors who could strike absolute fear in his opponents. Regardless of the score, a lead was never safe if Kobe was on the court. Unparalleled balletic footwork, a brain that seemed designed for basketball, an unshakable love for the fourth quarter, it all made Kobe the most entertaining player to watch.

Moments like when Kobe scored 62 points in three quarters in a 112-90 route over the Dallas Mavericks in 2005 made fans fall in love with his game. Kobe sat out the fourth quarter, and, as legend goes, when offered a chance to go back in to reach 70, he told coach Brian Shaw, “Nah, I’ll get it another time.”

How about when he scored 60 points in his final game and gave life to the Staples Center, that of which it hadn’t seen in years? Or when Matt Barnes pump-faked the ball into his face and Kobe didn’t even flinch? The alley-oop to Shaq in Game 7 against the Trail Blazers in 2000? The countless game-winners, deep fadeaways, jawdropping dunks, are all ingrained in the memories of NBA fans whose lives were impacted by Kobe Bryant.

A loss like this forces us to stare in the face of our own mortality. How can he be gone? He was invincible.

Kobe may have been passed the prime of his playing days, but he was just entering the prime of life. With his wife Vanessa, he had four children– Gianna, Natalia, Bianca, and their newborn Capri, who was only just born, in June 2019.

Ethan Miller/Getty Images

Above all else, though, Kobe was a father. After taking a break from basketball post-retirement, he rekindled love with the game once again, vicariously through his daughter Gianna. The two could be seen attending NBA games across the country; he often tutored her from the sidelines in the art of the game. At his Mamba Sports Academy, he did the same for other young girls who found love for basketball. 

For his short film, Dear Basketball, Kobe won the Oscar for Best Animated Short Film, setting up what could have been an illustrious second-act: “What I love is storytelling,” he told Sports Illustrated in 2018. “I love the idea of creative content whether it’s mythology or animation, written or film, that can inspire people and give them something tangible they can use in their own lives.”

Tragically we will never get to see that second-act come to fruition. Kobe Bryant died yesterday, in a helicopter crash alongside his daughter Gianna and seven others. It’s one of the most devastating losses in NBA history.

This is not the ending Kobe Bryant was supposed to get.

JOHANNES EISELE/AFP/Getty Images

In November of 2019, artist 21 Savage spoke to hundreds of Atlanta students about the dangers of gun violence. The speech was part of Fulton county’s “Guns Down, Heads Up” program. An initiative to curtail the rising number of illegal firearms in the community. During a local news feature, he explained that urging area youth to be wise in not resorting to guns was his mission. However, his single “Immortal” which was released just 20 days prior had a different message. “Brand new Mac-90 with the drum attached, you a shit talker we got drums for that. Tryna fist fight boy you dumb for that. You gone catch a bullet in yo long for that.”

Can a hardcore rapper grow as a person, as a man, as a member of his community – yet still let his music promote the darkness of his past? 

What happens when a man with a troubled past embraces his mortality and refuses to wallow in the same mentality that resulted in the very pain he once sought to escape?

Is society receptive to the duality of a black man finding the silver lining in his suffering, dealing with the convolution and weight of surviving life in the hood? 

If you never cared to learn more about 21 Savage you may have these and other questions. Yet, given the effort, you’d quickly find that the man behind the microphone is more complex than can be understood simply by taking his music at face value. It requires a fair analysis of the environment in which he was born. The environment he references in music. Through his words, though sometimes corrupt, Savage has constructed a platform. In the 27-year old’s maturation, he continues to use that platform to make a change, perhaps the only way he knows how. This while still healing from a past that likely haunts him.

Patrisse Cullors, Co-Founder of Black Lives Matter presents 21 Savage with an award at the NILC Courageous Luminaires Awards, October 2019 – Jerritt Clark/Getty Images for NILC

In an interview with Genius, 21 Savage said, “Words are powerful. You have to be mindful of how you use them. I’m a rapper, so yeah, I’m going to rap about certain shit – but that’s entertainment. That’s music. That’s my past life. When it comes to what I’m doing in these streets is like a man. Fuck a rapper. Just me as a man and what I stand for, don’t throw dirt on that because that’s like a big accomplishment.”

21 Savage leaped onto hip-hop’s proverbial stage, the light finally shimmering on a sound once dimly lit in almost hidden crevices of SoundCloud. If The Slaughter Tape catapulted Shéyaa Bin Abraham-Joseph onto that stage his soon-to-follow EP Savage Mode was the crowd surfing frog splash off of it. The hip-hop community had embraced him. Each project he’s released since has pitted him deeper and deeper into the modern-day pop-culture lexicon. The Slaughter Tape featured a hardcore, gritty production style, heavily fleeced with 808s and a dark ominous undertone. Listening to the early Savage catalog feels like you’re walking into the belly of the slums. His menacing voice and catchy ad-libs rattle your eardrums from start to finish as he uniquely tells his story.

Back in the early days of his emergence, 21 Savage was lauded for his hardcore street, oftentimes violence ladened lyrics. Praising the gang lifestyle and endorsing problematic behavior. Behavior young men feel forced into because of the realities of living in a socioeconomically challenged neighborhood. As time fell through the hourglass on 21 Savage’s career, his tune has started to shift. Both in his outward demeanor and in his music. Perhaps it even softened.

On his most recent album, I am > I was, he goes in-depth about the tumultuous relationship with his father, losing loved ones and the pain of heartbreak. As the title would suggest Savage’s second studio album signifies a turning point in his life. Seeking to be a better artist and a better man than he once was. For his endeavors in proliferation the rapper was rewarded with a Grammy nomination for Rap Album of the Year.

“I just feel like I’m becoming a better person. My music is just getting better. Learning the game better, learning how to move, learning how to create – everything’s just growing.”

 “I might rap about a lot of stuff, but that’s just a reflection about what I’ve been through. But in real life, everything I do is positive.” 

For someone who has been through so much, it’s great to see a man able to freely express himself. His ups and downs. Both his unrestrained joy and his pain. On a 2018 Breakfast Club interview, Savage admitted that “sometimes he cries” when reflecting on the passing of a friend. DJ Envy followed his statement up by saying “the fact that you said you cry is good because a lot of people will never admit that they cry.” The Atlanta-raised rapper then says “That Jeezy and Keisha Cole song, “Dreaming,” I don’t care where I’m at if that song comes on I’m going to cry.”

It was here that we realized 21 Savage, like many of us, uses music to mend emotional scars – which would explain his love affair with singing R&B. Music often acts as an emotional ointment, just as 21 Savaged described in this interview. It helps us to process our traumas. For black people, music is sometimes the only therapy we ever had. In many cases, it is the only way we were able to process the things we went through. Have you ever been to a party or a gathering and that classic R&B song plays that calls up so many emotions? We, as African-Americans, don’t simply experience music – we escape into it. Losing ourselves in the words and the melody. Hoping for a momentary fix from reality. For black men, we deserve the chance to be free of the stereotypes that chain us to a nonexpressive mascot-like existence.  

21 Savage at his “Hot Boyz” Birthday Bash, October 2019 – Carmen Mandato/Getty Images 

In the same interview, Savage admitted that he had been to therapy. Imagine a 90’s gangster rapper talking about therapy in a radio interview. As we’ve become a more conscious and progress thinking community in hip-hop, much of the facade has melted away and we accept these men as human beings who have experienced real things that take a toll on them – not these beacons of hyper-masculinity. We see evidence of this in today’s “gangster rapper.” 

Savage speaks on this candidly in his writings:

“I done did a lot in these streets and that’s facts. PTSD like I came from Iraq.”

“I lost all my friends countin’ bands in the Bentley coupe

Diamonds on me doin’ handstands, Rosé on my tooth

If she wanna dance, let her dance for the money, ooh

I don’t need no friends if you really wanna know the truth.” 

In the Summer of 2018 Savage began frequently posting himself singing on Instagram’s Story feature. He sang everything from The Weeknd to R. Kelly to SWV. Bellowing his heart out. The selection a testament to his wide range of musical tastes. This past Summer the rapper claimed “I’m singing R&B this time on tour,” in an Instagram post. Savage stated that singing clears his mind. So, these internet karaoke sessions may be part medicine, part liberation. Signs of his internal cultivation. 

Men are freer now to express themselves. To be open with their feelings and show a softer side. 21 Savage is an example of this. We as a society have moved toward allowing men the opportunity to be human. To be tender and vulnerable creatures, while still endorsing their masculinity. Breaking down the barriers of masculinity has been tougher than knocking down the Berlin Wall within the tribe of hip-hop. Misconceptions of male identity have long contributed to a hyper-aggressive culture of male behavior. Many times men are incredibly pensive because they’re asked by society to partake in this play where their role is merely the beast. 21 Savage’s exterior may present a hardcore gangster rapper. Now we’re seeing a softer side of Savage. Growth is the companion of time and 21 Savage isn’t the same person that scrapped and crawled his way out of the trenches. He’s a greater version of that.

21 Savage’s journey exemplifies the dichotomy that exists in rap. He wants desperately to help his community and his actions show that. But his music is still filled with violence and belligerence. The Grammy nominee’s infatuation with R&B is a sign that he’s torn about the content in his music. On one hand, it propelled him to stardom, on the other hand, it goes against the things he seems to stand for. But the stories in his music make up who he is. Without the horrors of his past, Savage may not be here to share the journey.

“I just feel like I’m becoming a better person. My music is just getting better. Learning the game better, learning how to move, learning how to create – everything’s just growing.”

Savage takes his fandom of R&B to the next level by more frequently singing on his music, too. Issa Album explored this on tracks “Facetime” and “Special.” In “Special,” thanks to auto-tuning, he gifts us with a silky vocal arrangement. On his 2019 album, I am > I was, 21 Savage had a few tracks on which he sings in a contemporary R&B style. He later hopped on several prominent R&B remixes; Jhene Aiko‘s “Triggered,” a song in November with Alicia Keys and Miguel titled “Show Me Love,” as well as Normani’s “Motivation.” There may be more of an audience for 21 Savage ballads than there were for former generations of gangster rap. In what many call the golden era of hip-hop, for two decades, gangster rappers really carried the genre. But I would argue, few of the most influential artists in the past 10 years have been hardcore rap artists. Gangster rappers have had to evolve and adjust with the times in order to survive. 

21 Savage isn’t alone either. Other rappers known for abrasive style and content like NBA YoungBoy and Kodak Black are showing their more vulnerable sides nowadays. Last year Kodak released HeartBreak Kodak, a project filled with songs of love’s enmity. HipHopDX called the album “808s & Heartbreak meets the trap.” Needless to say, it was heavily R&B influenced. NBA YoungBoy made waves with his release of “Dirty Iyanna,” Michael Jackon’s “Dirty Diana” reimagined. The track features YoungBoy singing feverishly in auto-tune under the iconic baseline. Social changes and advancements in technology have made creatives that never would’ve sung in generations past empowered to give it a shot.

21 Savage gives out a plate of food during his YMCA Thanksgiving Dinner, November 2019 – Prince Williams/Wireimage/Getty Images

It’s a proverb of the duplicity that exists in hip-hop and the evolution of the “gangster” rapper. Savage has several different community initiatives where he focuses on giving back. From hosting charity dinners to giving away school supplies in his old neighborhood. After his run-in the ICE and threat of deportation, Savage is now even advocating for immigrant children. It also highlights the line between art and reality. To quote 21 Savage one final time, “This is art, so how the fuck you gone tell me how to express myself – it ain’t no right or wrong way to be a hip-hop artist.”’

If you liked this, check out:

21 Savage’s 2019: An Exercise In Restraint

21 Savage & The Importance of Growth

21 Savage: Born In The UK, Made In Atlanta

Summer Walker & The New R&B Archetype