Rap Artists We Could Live Without
Published: Thursday, April 26, 2012
Updated: Thursday, April 26, 2012 10:04
If there is one thing I am increasingly becoming aware of, it’s that the rap game isn’t what it used to be. The days of Wu-Tang, A Tribe Called Quest and KRS-One are over, and a new era of rap has emerged. Unfortunately, most of the rappers that make up this new saga in hip-hop are pathetic. Nas wasn’t joking when he claimed hip-hop was dead. And the rappers who have helped drive it to its sad death include Waka Flocka Flame, Soulja Boy, Lil’ B and Drake.
First up is Waka Flocka. If a human being was born with Mad Cow Disease, it would be Waka Flocka Flame. Straight out of the ATL, Mr. Flocka burst onto the rap scene with the help of another horrible rapper, Gucci Mane, who actually gave Waka his name.
Flocka Flame’s style can be described as southern rap, but when he seemingly doesn’t want to finish a lyric, he reverts to screaming into the microphone in the same way someone screams in the middle of a natural disaster.
When I hear his songs on iTunes, I seriously question what language he is speaking and hope his songs come with subtitles. If you have never heard Waka Flocka Flame spit hot fire before, don’t worry: it’s because it has never happened.
Then there is Soulja Boy TellEm. Soulja Boy is one of the worst things to happen to rap music ever. I cannot begin to express my hatred for him, so bear with me.
There are plenty of places in the history of hip hop where we could say things took a turn for the worst, but the emergence of this Atlanta rapper and self proclaimed “Swag Daddy” should be the most salient point. If you have heard any of his music, you know that he has maybe 17 words in his vocabulary, and I would bet money that I could go to a day care and have children write better lyrics than he does.
Here is an example from his song “Pretty Boy Swag:” “I’m lookin’ for a yellow bone long haired star/Thick in the hips come and get in my car/You party with a star we take off and go to mars.” The problem is, his first album was rated platinum by the RIAA, which should be concerning for anyone who loves good rap.
Let’s not forget Lil’ B and his new style of rap. Hailing from the Bay Area, where Apple produces iPhones and Google creates ways to make our lives easier, Lil’ B is responsible for creating an entire new genre of rap called Based.
In fact, Based music, which resembles stream of consciousness hip-hop, is only preformed by Lil B. With songs such as, “I’m Miley Cyrus,” “I’m Bill Clinton” and “Ellen DeGeneres,” this rapper has obviously demonstrated the versatility of his rhyme scheme. I can’t wait for his next songs, titled, “I’m Justin Beiber,” “I Was Dropped as a Baby” and “I Like Sniffing Glue.”
I would provide lyrics to illustrate Lil’ B’s flow, but trying to interpret him would be like trying to piece together the disjointed ramblings of my schizophrenic uncle Ernie.
And finally there is Drake. I like Drake, but our musician-fan relationship has been complicated by the fact that he is the softest rapper in the rap game.
Being in touch with your emotions is fine, but acting to be some mafia don that can get people wacked is problematic when your music is the equivalent to audio-Downy.
I mean, how can you go from lyrics such as, “You might hype me up and make me catch a body like that” to dropping a song called “What if I Kissed You?” Come on now. I can hear him crying over a stubbed toe from here. Aren’t rappers supposed to be the epitome of insanely tough and merciless? I don’t think Drake is. Half his songs are R&B.
Please rappers, get it together.
Eric Bates is a senior political science major.