A Letter To Hip Hop

The contemporary age of hip-hop is widely centered around the Black cisgendered male gaze. The genre has definitely paved its way in fighting against systemic oppression, the war on drugs, and the prison industrial complex. Subsequently, the genre has fallen victim to perpetuating sexism towards women, while spreading homophobia and transphobia to Black LGBTQ members. The hateful, lyrical content can lead to the exclusion of taking female and queer rap artists seriously within the Black community, where rap resides. 

Think of female rap artists like Queen Latifah or Missy Elliot, who could not disclose their sexualities based on the consequences of coming out. They had to disguise themselves within a masculine space to even be heard. Black queers are not as fortunate as their white queer counterparts; A Queen Latifah couldn\’t come out like Ellen did within the 1990s. Intersectionality plays a pivotal role in why cisgendered Black males lead the way of rap, but not for much longer. 

There is a boom of emerging Black female and LGBTQ artists within the 21st century now. Individuals who are changing that narrative are the prominent new wave of female rap artists from Yung Baby Tate to Tierra Whack, to even Black queer artists like Saucy Santana or Kidd Kenn. These artists are not afraid of what it takes to meet their dreams. 

The emergence of Nicki Minaj and how animated she was when she first came out had a lot to do with the inclusion of femininity in rap. There was a large gap within the mid to late 2000s of little to no female rap artists. Nicki Minaj changed that with her debut 2009 club hit, \”Itty Bitty Piggy.\” She single-handedly set multiple standards on what modern female rap would look like during the duration of the 2010s. Her drag-type personality in her early career helped her erase the binary lines, leaving the old tradition of how rap artists should sound, and giving room for creativity and different styles to come into the genre. 

Rap is a genre in which anyone can join or be a part of, but at its core, rap is political and meant to inspire both Black men and women. Subsequently, a genre that is supposed to empower us demeans us, and through a Jay-Z and Lil Wayne lens, anything that is not masculine-presenting and cisgendered is pushed aside. How come we can name ten greatest male rappers who have long sustaining careers, but Nicki Minaj is the only Black woman to have similar resumes to her male counterparts? We need more than just image politics to have everyone heard in rap. 17-year-old Chicago rapper Kidd Kenn would be a perfect example of how impactful it would be if rappers allowed femininity through the gates of rap, if he were given a chance to blow up like Lil Baby. 

Before Nicki Minaj, many female MCs had to sound like men ― think of Foxy Brown, who sounded eerily like a female Jay Z, her mentor at the time, or Lil\’ Kim with Biggie Smalls. They are both trailblazers within the genre of rap, introducing sex appeal to female rap. Their provocative prose drew  in more viewers, whether they wanted to admit it or not. Nicki Minaj was and still is versatile ― she can rap about anything and has sold millions while staying loyal to her fanbase. She embodied what it meant to be feminine, which is still not entirely respected within the rap community. If you look at the shift of rap during the late 80s and early 90s, most of the lyrical content was negatively aimed at women. 

Rap originated during the ‘70s to express \”apolitical party music\” during a time of extreme conservatism. It served as a space for Black and brown people to vent their anger towards the systems that oppress them. It was virtually everywhere by the 1990s, and low images of Black males were marketable because it gave the listeners an idea into their \”life.\” Black women were subjected to decades of patriarchal lyricism produced by their male counterparts ―  they were glorified b*tches, hoes, freaks, and baby mamas within the genre, leaving little to no space to express who they really were. Also, gay representation is considered anti-hip hop to some, and is viewed as weak because the Black community links feminine qualities to gay men. 

In a 2005 interview, a 20-something Kayne West sat down with radio host Sway Calloway in an MTV News special. They discussed homophobia within the rap community, with West explaining how it was a learned trait to be homophobic, mentioning his high school experience as examples. He did not want to deal with being the outcast and assimilated into the masculine role so that no one would say anything. \”Everybody in hip hop discriminates against gay people,\” he says. He continued with, \”Matter fact, the opposite word of hip hop, I think, is gay.\” 

HBO\’s The Shop even discussed homophobia with Lil Nas X and Kevin Hart as some of the panelists. \”I\’m growing up to hate this shit,\” Lil Nas X says about being asked on why he came out to the public earlier last year.

It all comes back to sexism and transphobia — the way the Black community sets in stone these social norm boxes based on gender roles. Transphobia exists because the existence of transgender people breaks conditioned, commonly-held notions of gender and gender roles. Sexism is also at play because sexism is transphobia ― anything outside the socially-accepted, masculine ways of manhood is deemed unfit. Black women and the Black LGBTQ suffer mostly the same hateful rhetoric within the rap genre because, for the most part, it has been a hyper-masculinized haven for heterosexual Black males. 

Thanks to the digital age that has bloomed from social media, femininity has been showcased more within the genre. Kidd Kenn is a prime example, an underground rapper rising out of the Chicago rap scene. The young rapper has already signed to the record label, Island Records, and even headlined with star Kehlani at the Red Bull Music\’s Renaissance One concert last year. The influx of female rap rebirth, with artists such as Doja Cat, Megan Thee Stallion, Chika, City Girls, and more, redefine what rap is in: reclaiming femininity within a positive light in Black spaces. 

Black spaces need to allow for more inclusion to showcase the versatile styles we have. Rap has become commodified under white figures, and has allowed for images that only demean us to sell to the public. We are rap; we are culture; it is up to us to redefine and set an example for the upcoming generation.