In Hip-Hop, Which Rapists are Worth Calling Out and Which Aren't?

Will hip-hop ever figure it out?

Hey y’all,

I’m writing this editor’s letter from Carefree x Blackstack’s writing meetup for Black writers in Oakland! There’s about 20 of us beautifully melanated folks sharing space together. We’re listening to afro lo-fi, munching on fruit and sandwiches, and pushing our pens. Some of us are chipping away at novels, others are dreaming up words to finish poems started long ago, and people like me are furiously editing essays to publish here for y’all.

Our writing crew for the afternoon!

I know there is some sort of science behind the increase in productivity levels when working amongst other people. Body doubling, as it’s known, helps those of us with ADHD (and ADHD-like behaviors) stay focused and keep us on task when others are also working in tandem. My mind usually has a minimum of 47 tabs open, and this just goes to show that community can literally heal. My procrastination melted away, and I breezed through editing three essays (and this editor’s letter!).

Shoutout to my good sis

Jacquie Verbal

for being my partner-in-crime and collaborating on this with me! We literally cooked this idea up in Jacquie’s apartment and made it happen organically a month later. It warmed my heart to meet people (like one of Carefree’s earliest supporters,

Elise

!) and to see self-professed “introverts” come out of their shell, speak their truths in public, and get words on the page. I wish I could tag everyone who came, but you know who you are. Thank you to all the new and old friends who pulled up—I’m in deep gratitude for your presence.

This Week’s Story

I used to identify as a hip-hop head, but the genre that once shaped my entire personality has been a shell of itself over the past 5 years or so. I’m still tuned in, and thank God for female rappers who have injected fresh, creative energy into the genre, but with all of the hypocrisy when it comes to abuse, violence, and misogyny in the mainstream, I’m just over it. Maya Williams, an award-winning poet laureate who is back again to grace us with another piece, asks the pertinent question: what is the barometer for calling out bad behavior in hip hop?

Take care,

Anayo Awuzie
EIC of Carefree Media

P.S: We have just a few tickets left for our virtual financial wellness workshop for women of color this Thursday! I’ll be in conversation with author and financial therapist, Aja Evans, to challenge our money beliefs and answer our burning money questions. RSVP HERE

In Hip-Hop, Which Rapists are Worth Calling Out and Which Aren't?

by Maya Williams

TW: mentions of sexual violence, domestic violence, and child sexual violence

It has been a little over a month since Kendrick Lamar’s Super Bowl Halftime Show performance. It still trends on TikTok, Kendrick’s songs are streaming on radios more than ever, and he’s gone from having an entire Grammys audience sing along to the lyric “A Minoooor” from “Not Like Us” to a whole NFL stadium sing along. The song calls out Drake for his creepy behavior with underaged girls, thus entire collectives should continue to sing and dance to this song in public because creepy behavior should always be called out.

However, I can’t shake the feeling of discomfort I have with Kendrick calling Drake out while actively collaborating with other rappers around him, such as Kodak Black, more recently, Playboi Carti, and of course, the And rappers who have helped build his career, namely Dr. Dre and Jay-Z. I know that Dr. Dre issued apologies, and I know that Jay-Z’s charges for rape and human trafficking of a thirteen-year-old with Diddy were dropped, but considering how often survivors are silenced in scenarios like these, I’m not as ready to let these scenarios go as everyone else. When women bravely speak up against their abusers in the court of law, but aren’t believed, there are dire consequences, and survivors often have to face darkness alone because of it.

As an artist who calls attention to systems that oppress, when will Kendrick’s call come from inside the house? Why is Kendrick comfortable enough calling out one person for their creepy behavior, turning it into a worldwide anthem, while simultaneously comfortable with the continuous collaboration with confirmed abusers? I realize that Kendrick is merely a mortal man (pun intended), not a savior meant to solve every issue pertaining to sexual violence. This is a tall order—it will never be one person’s job, and one song will never eradicate that form of violence. Although I don’t agree with the compromises Kendrick is making in his career, I can certainly understand it because he’s not the first nor will he be the last to do so. How else can one make both public and high-profile art under the scrutiny and confines of a capitalistic landscape? Every mainstream artist on their rise to superstardom must ask themselves this question: How much can you truly shake the table? Who else within the realm of contemporary hip-hop is willing to shake the table?

“It’s just big ME.”

It was March 2024 when we heard Kendrick’s now infamous diss to Drake (and subsequently, J. Cole) on Future & Metro Boomin’s single, Like That. This is not the first time the two rappers engaged in beef, but this time went far enough for Drake to feel insecure and bring a rap battle into court. How fitting for Dr. Dre to side with Kendrick in the rap feud. Dre has been Kendrick’s mentor for quite some time, and it’s easier to point out another person’s flaws than it is your own. I don’t care that he apologized for “fucking up” for physically assaulting multiple Black women. I care that he likely doesn’t mean his apology since it came out too close to his origin story biopic, Straight Outta Compton, being released around the same time. I care that some of the women he physically assaulted may have also been sexually assaulted. I care that he continues to verbally harass women online and get away with it.

Does Kendrick believe Dre’s apologies? Or is he simply too complacent to call out a man whose label helped him accomplish much of his success? Or maybe he believes what Dre did isn’t “as bad” due to him assaulting adults instead of children, or maybe it’s a mix of all of the above.

Although Jay-Z is not responsible for signing Kendrick, he is often credited as one of Kendrick’s major influences. I’m still appalled that Jay-Z had the audacity to show up to the Superbowl Halftime Show performance with his family post-lawsuit drop mentioned earlier in this article. He had a heavy hand in selecting Kendrick as the Super Bowl’s Halftime Show headlining artist—the first time a rapper has ever headlined—and audaciously cozied up in public again when there are still people making anonymous reports as to not be threatened for admitting to being a survivor of a public figure’s violence? I don’t like that Jay-Z likely, along with Diddy (which has definitely been confirmed), sexually assaulted a thirteen-year-old girl. Jay-Z is likely using both his privilege and success to manipulate and essentially get away with it all these years. He’s potentially still getting away with it now.

Kendrick rapped that no one should trust their little sisters with Drake in “Not Like Us,” but the same goes for Jay-Z. Even if Jay-Z didn’t do it, it doesn’t excuse him. Jay-Z and Diddy are very close friends and longtime collaborators—he’s been a bystander in his friend’s activities. Moreover, his short-term embarrassment is nothing compared to the long-term shame Black people of marginalized genders have had to face as survivors of sexual, domestic, and/or child sexual abuse.

It will be almost a month since Peacock released a documentary series about Diddy’s life and sexual assault/human trafficking allegations. Similar to Drake and other rappers like him—whether any of them want to admit it or not—a defamation lawsuit was filed by Diddy’s team. It’s an ongoing cycle of men wanting to appear as morally superior to others. Kendrick wants to appear as the morally superior rapper, but how can he continue to do that when he—and other male rappers—surround themselves with so many abusers? I’m not interested in moral superiority. I’m interested in genuine apologies from abusers, effective restorative justice practices, supporting survivors so they no longer have to hide, preventing abuse from happening in the first place, and supporting rappers of marginalized genders (especially those who unabashedly call out poor behavior without compromise).

I want to believe that it can be possible for Kendrick to call out all cis male rappers responsible for making people feel unsafe. Until I see it, I can’t help but wonder if repeatedly ostracizing Drake is just low-hanging fruit at this point. I wonder how hip-hop can stop ostracizing survivors as a whole.

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Maya Williams (ey/they/she) is a religious Black multiracial nonbinary suicide survivor who was selected as Portland, ME's seventh poet laureate from July ‘21-July ‘24. Maya has published essays in Carefree Mag, The Daily Beast, LGBTQ Nation, Black Girl Nerds, Honey Literary Review, The Rumpus, Stylist, and more. Follow more of eir work at mayawilliamspoet.com