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My somewhat silence regarding the Drake-Kendrick Lamar rap beef was deliberate. Traditionally, I’d have unquestioningly celebrated Kendrick’s checkmate. Regrettably, the current socio-political landscape demands a more nuanced perspective. My fondness for Drake is well-documented, and his musical innovation is undeniable. Furthermore, I appreciate the talents of his contemporaries—Megan The Stallion, Future, Migos, Nicki Minaj, Rick Ross, Chris Brown, and Cardi B—all influential musicians within the Trap/Drill genre. Yet, we exist within a climate of distorted gender dynamics, a landscape where men are increasingly vulnerable to accusations of predatory sexual behavior, even when those boundaries are ambiguous.
The line between an assertive, romantic pursuit and an unacceptable sexual advance has become agonizingly blurred. Dick-shaming is becoming a trend in American culture. The digital court of public opinion further complicates the ambiguity. This space is potentially manipulated with sophisticated algorithms, subtly reshaping perceptions while exploiting vulnerabilities within the collective consciousness. The capricious nature of online judgment is a terrifying spectacle. One moment, an artist faces public condemnation for non-partisan allegiance, i.e., he danced at a Donald Trump party. The next, the same digital court of public opinion, condemns its allied artist based on unsubstantiated allegations. There is a new logic.
This volatile climate fosters a dangerous environment where unsubstantiated accusations of heinous crimes – rape, pedophilia, RICO – are hurled recklessly, devoid of factual basis. There is a prevailing mob mentality, which has devastating consequences after eclipsing the truth. Unsubstantiated accusations can now lead to imprisonment and the utter obliteration of a person’s life, both professionally and personally. This chilling reality necessitates extreme caution. As a result, many accused are now launching defamation lawsuits against people and companies who spread such rumors maliciously. The casual jest, the offhand remark about one’s sexual life – all are potential weapons in this digital arena.
As an older master of ceremonies, I now avoid the creation of contentious, fracas-ridden rhymes, bars, lyrics, or songs. I have concluded that such material irrevocably compromises my artistic legacy. Yes, I can meticulously craft lyrics to eviscerate my opponent. However, I prefer to collaborate on a song with them. Something that enhances our creativity. So, I like to shun that path deliberately. Ironically, my origins as an emcee stem from the brutal Congress of Battle Rap. From 1990 to 2005, street ciphers, freestyle sessions, and impromptu rap battles defined my career as an emcee. Studio recording? It was a distant afterthought until 2005, though I’d emerged with a couple of tentative tracks in 1996/1997.
My full-fledged album production didn’t materialize until 2006, so technically, I was in the cipher from 1990 to 2005. My reputation preceded me, drawing unexpected challengers – impromptu battles erupting wherever I happened to be. It was a recurring theme in my day. A casual hangout with friends, a moment in the schoolyard, then suddenly, a menacing entourage approached, their ringleader, a rival from a distant neighborhood, eager to test his penmanship against mine. This was my reality. Everybody wanted to defeat me in a rap battle. Our intense lyrical clashes sometimes raged from midday to the witching hour. We’d relentlessly freestyle until the early dawn. I relish a spirited verbal contest.
Yet, examining Tupac’s (one of my favorite artists of all time) discography reveals a jarring reality. His earlier, profoundly introspective and socially aware work maintains its intellectual potency up to “All Eyez on Me.” Thereafter, his albums became saturated with vitriolic attacks on rivals — a veritable deluge of diss tracks targeting Bad Boy Records, Puff Daddy, Nas, Jay Z, and The Notorious BIG. This evolution transformed him from a pioneering voice of consciousness into a caricature of aggressive gangsta rap, his delivery frequently laced with contentious rage. While his talent remains superior— his artistry undeniably legendary — I contend that his many feuds severely compromised his creative trajectory.
We could have gotten other “Me Against the World” kind of albums. The relentless cycle of conflict irrevocably diverted Tupac from his powerful exploration of political and social injustices, ultimately redefining his legacy. Realizing this, I choose silence in the face of a lyrical attack. One can say I’ve had my fair share. I maintain a thematic focus, leaving subtle jabs for those perceptive enough to decipher them. The Kendrick Lamar-Drake feud escalated dramatically, fueled by what appeared to be Drake’s impetuous challenges. His dissing bars veered into salacious gossip, a witty attempt to wound Kendrick psychologically. However, Drake’s sharp psychological wordplay had become one of his predictable moves.
Seizing the moment, Kendrick masterfully leveraged prevailing socio-political sensitivities, exploiting accusations guaranteed to incite public outrage against Drake. His potent delivery and instantly memorable choruses cemented his diss track as an unparalleled masterpiece among hip-hop classics. Moreover, with an astute mind, Drake recognized the futility of a direct counterattack, allowing Kendrick’s triumph to stand unchallenged. The insidious undertone of pedophilia accusations burrowed deep into the public consciousness, potentially inflicting irreparable harm upon Drake’s reputation. After all, Drake underestimated his opponent, called him out, drew the first blood, and hit below the belt more than once.
Then again, while I generally advocate for hip-hop conflict resolution outside the courtroom, the chilling reality of cancel culture’s punitive consequences—even imprisonment—compels me to commend Drake’s proactive legal contention. Drake had to defend his name and reputation by suing for defamation. This underscores my unwavering commitment to avoiding the toxic quagmire of rap feuds. It never ends well. The guys I defeated in my rap battles remained sour until they faded from the music scene. We desperately need to establish clear boundaries, circumscribing the permissible scope of lyrical attacks and safeguarding rappers and their image or brand from the devastating power of unchecked verbal assaults.
