2 Chainz was born Tauheed
Epps on September 12, 1976, in College Park, Georgia. His father was often
absent (due to his being in and out of jail) during his childhood, so Epps was
primarily raised by his mother. Epps
has elaborated on his parents’ disagreements, stating:
The fact that my mom raised
me, used to bother my pop. He didn’t know if a woman could raise a man. And
they’d have differences of opinions all the time. My pops used to tell me
things from prison and as soon as he hung up my mom would say ‘don’t
listen to him’.
Despite tensions at home,
Epps excelled in school, surprising his teachers by finishing second in his
class at Clayton High School. He went on to play basketball at Alabama State
University before going on to to pursue his rap career in 1997. Epps has
also stated that prayer played an important role in his life as a child, and
that his father would send him letters with “prayer hands” or “’God Is Love’”
written on them.
The Beginnings of a Rap Career
2 Chainz may seem like a McDonald's-esque overnight sensation, but he's
actually been in the hip-hop business for more than a decade. In 1997, Epps
reunited with his high school friend Earl Conyers and formed the duo Playaz
Circle, featuring Dolla Boy (Conyers) and Tity Boi (Epps). Together they
produced independent mix tapes, namely the album United We Stand, United We
Fall in 2002, until they met Ludacris, who at the time was a disc jockey in
Atlanta. Luda became interested in Playaz Circle, recording some mixtapes with
them as well as playing a few of their songs on his radio station, and after he
shot to stardom in 2000, he signed Playaz Circle to his new label Disturbing
Tha Peace (a subsidiary of Def Jam Recordings). The duo put out two albums
under this label, Supply & Demand in 2007 and Flight 360: The Takeoff in
2009, both of which received (WHAT KIND OF) reviews. Wanting to further his
career, Epps left Disturbing Tha Peace in 2010.
Solo Career and Stardom
In early 2011, Epps image got a facelift. He abandoned Tity Boi, put on some extra bling, and took on the stage name 2 Chainz, under which he released his first
solo mixtape, T.R.U. REALigion. Things subsequently took off for 2
Chainz. His mixtape was the first of its kind to ever make the music charts (58
on the Billboard Top R&B/Hip-Hop Albums) and it spawned multiple guests
appearances on tracks with well known artists, including "Beez In the
Trap" with Nicki Minaj and "Mercy" with Kanye West. Epps himself attributes his triumph to an opening in the
Atlanta music scene - both Gucci Mane and T.I. were in jail while Jeezy and
Ludacris were both busy with other projects. With his hype off the charts, Epps
released his own single - "No Lie" feat. Drake - off his upcoming
debut solo studio album in May 2012. The album dropped in August to mixed
reviews, despite high anticipation. At his best 2 Chainz was described as
"(GOOD REVIEW)," while at his worst he was, "(BAD REVIEW)."
Still, the man has prospered. Post-T.R.U. REALigion, he was nominated for 3
Grammys, including album of the year (which he lost to Drake's Take Care), went
on his own solo world tour, was featured on multiple new tracks - he's
responsible for the insanely catchy hook on "Fuckin' Problems" by
up-and-comer, A$AP Rocky - appeared on CBS's "2 Broke Girls," and has
collaborated on various business ventures, including Adidas and Beats by Dr.
Dre. As of this post, he's back to work on his sophomore album, set to be
released in April 2013.
Most of 2 Chainz success has come from finding what works for him and
sticking with it. 2 Chainz has created an extremely one-dimensional image. Take
a look at one of his most popular songs, "I'm Different":
I'm different, yeah I'm different
Pull up to the club with the ceiling missing
Middle finger up to my competition
Pull up to the scene with my roof gone
When I leave the scene, bet your boo gone
And I beat the pussy like a new song
2 Chainz but I got me a few on
Perhaps 2 Chainz intended the irony to be palpable as he proceeds to contradict
the first line of the track with just about every other line that follows.
Bragging about convertibles and stealing other guys' girlfriends is nothing new
in hip-hop; it's not innovative and it's most definitely not
"different." He's basically combining the themes of pussy and money that have been
popular in mainstream rap over the past decade and reproducing them for every
song on his studio album. They all sound pretty much the same, denying that
vintage hip-hop culture of trying to create something new and different to
impress the crowd. That's not artistry, that's good business sense.
Which doesn't mean it isn't working for him, because it most definitely is. It only means mainstream hip-hop has become an environment where vapidity is not only tolerated, but embraced. This is 2 Chainz's explanation of the line "bought my boo bigger tits and a bigger ass" from "No Lie (feat. Drake)." And you know that catchy hook from "Fuckin' Problems" by A$AP Rocky? The clean version's is basically just a mess of nonsensical noises.
Though to be fair, the rapper may be taking advantage of the change in the audience in hip-hop
music over the last decade. The new crowd consists of many suburban white kids
listening to rap music because it's "cool" (I cannot tell you how
many times I've heard the phrase "I'm smoking on that gas, life should be
on Cinemax..." coming out of a Caucasian mouth), a far cry from the
original black audience just trying to have fun. The rapper has long been
criticized for his former stage name, Tity Boi, which many consider derogatory
toward women, though Chainz has long denied this, claiming that it was simply a
reference to his being an only child, a spoiled brat, and a mama's boy. He's
also denied ever truly changing his name, saying it was a "natural
progression," but has admitted 2 Chainz is a more "family
friendly" moniker. He's right - suburban mothers would be much more
comfortable with their children running around screaming "2 Chainz!" rather
than "Tity Boi." And it was after the name change that Epps's career
truly took off, cashing in, like much of his image, on a more acceptable
commercial identity. I mean, he appeared on "2 Broke Girls," a stereotypical sitcom (that has also been widely criticized for its overtly sexist and racist jokes and tired formatting). He also hasn't shied
away from the road often taken by commercial rappers: sponsorships with many
major companies looking for the "cool" kids to back them.
After researching in order to write this, however, I hesitate to write 2 Chainz off right away. 2 Chainz may not give us a glimpse into his personal life in his music, but he has through other media sources, revealing a troubled, yet improving relationship with his father, who died right before his first album dropped. He's also divulged information about selling cocaine as a young teenager in order to pay the bills because no one else could. He obviously hasn't had the easiest life.
That's what could potentially justify the insipidity of it all, the mindless celebration of sex and drugs and money with no regard for realistic consequences. Obviously, 2 Chainz has become ubiquitous because of it. But the fact the shallowness is accessible may be necessary. NPR calls 2 Chainz "a pop star for all of us," claiming that "to create music that actually touches people and resonates in a way that goes beyond the level at which the listener relates to the actual lyrics is something special." 2 Chainz does this by never breaking out of the superficial image he has so meticulously created. Perhaps by being "the latest generation's clown prince of hip-hop," the rapper is in fact hearkening back to the beginnings of hip-hop, "moving the crowd," which was essentially just black kids just trying to have some fun while living under very repressed circumstances.
Though his major label debut album, good
kid, m.A.A.d. city, only dropped in October of 2012, Kendrick Lamar is already
being hailed as the "savior of hip-hop," reinventing West Coast rap. In an era of
commercialization that allows the success of the likes of Nicki Minaj, 2 Chainz, Waka Flocka, and Soulja Boy, Lamar is a unique and welcome change. In an intricate,
self-aware, and deeply personal narrative that spans his experience as an
adolescent growing up in Compton, California. Kendrick, who tells his story
through the eyes of his younger self, K-Dot, depicts a stunning account of his
struggle against and ultimate escape from the “m.A.A.d. city” that he tried so
hard not to let shape him. In fact, the album, the music itself, serves as
Kendrick’s instrument for freedom, a fact that is not lost on the rapper. At
its most powerful moments, this concept album, this hip-hop take on the rock opera, this “hip-hop-era,”
if you will, is willing to not only embrace the dichotomies it presents, but to
utilize them in creating a beautiful and rather elegant search for closure and
some sort of truth.
Chronologically, “Backseat Freestyle” drops us off at the beginning of
K-Dot’s story. He’s in the back of the car with his friends, who ask him to
freestyle at the end of “Bitch Don’t Kill My Vibe” (in a fluid skit that
furthers the “hip-hopera” idea). Lamar has stated that “’Backseat Freestyle’
is being in the mind state of being 16 years old, and not having no cares in
the world. Not giving a damn about nothing, but life and money and what you see
in front of you. It’s not me talking now, it’s me talking then.” So young
Kendrick tells us he has a dream, one that somehow warrants a mention alongside
that of Martin Luther King, which is a boisterous claim by any account.
However, in a supposedly post-Civil Rights era, Lamar, along with many young
adolescents growing up in ghettos like Compton, is still struggling with
problems fundamentally based in his racial identity. We don’t yet know exactly
what his dream is, but in his reappropriation, Kendrick brazenly suggests that
young African-Americans have yet to attain complete equality. Though poignant here, this
confidence is carried throughout the song in lines like, “I pray my dick get
big as the Eiffel Tower/ So I could fuck the world for 72 hours,” surprising
lyrics from the self-proclaimed “good kid.” However, the bravado is out-of-place
when compared to rest of Lamar’s record and seems rather forced, which only
serves to prove how K-Dot is easily influenced by his environment, his friends,
and his society to put on the “I’m doper than you” gangsta rap ego that is expected
of him. Lamar is innovative because he goes on to reveal the complex character underneath. Yet many elements of this song still exhibit Kendrick’s vocal prowess and unique style. His flow is actually quite idiosyncratic. The music video is
shot with a 2:39:1 aspect ratio, which has a highly cinematic connotation, and
has the effects of flickering old film texture. Not coincidentally, GKMC is in fact subtitled "A Short Film by Kendrick Lamar," so these references are absolutely intentional. Like Nas' Illmatic does for Queensbridge, Kendrick's GKMC immerses us in a cross-section of the tangled world of Compton through the array of panoramic shots and blunt cuts that are his cinematic lyrics.
With "The Art of Peer Pressure," K-Dot's formerly carefree narrative takes a turn for the worse. In a harrowing transition, the song's sonic elements create an atmosphere of unease as Kendrick layers on detailed images of a robbery sequence "with the homies." His whole personality changes as the drug-free and nonviolent K-Dot transforms into a boy who almost easily embraces the darker side of the thug image he feels obligated to uphold in front of the people he considers his closest friends. The strangest and most disturbing part is Kendrick's acknowledgement that he's doing something he considers morally wrong ("I'm usually a true firm believer of bad karma/ Consequences of evil will make your past haunt you"), yet his inability to stop himself from being swept up into the peer pressure. Thus we begin to see the beginnings a pervading argument throughout the album for a refined version "environmental determinism," an anthropological phenomenon which assert that human behavior is primarily influenced by physical geography, that contains elements of "social determinism," a theory that social constructs and interactions alone shape people's behavior. See, the "m.A.A.d." city has the power to corrupt Kendrick in a way he never thought possible.
If I told you that a flower bloomed in a dark room, would you trust it?
After consciously chronicling his adventures with the homies and his romantic interest Sherane for the first half of GKMC, Kendrick turns to re-examine his role within in his city in the two-part centerpiece of the album. "Good Kid" begins with
hazy, transient instrumentals and vocals saying, “Mass hallucination baby/ Ill
education baby/ Want to reconnect with your elations/ This is your station
baby.”Already, Lamar addresses two problems with the city he grew up in: the lack of education as well as the silent consensus to either ignore the problems that plague the city or be pressured into being part of them. Throughout the track, employs a "red and blue" motif to further his argument of environmental determinism. In the first verse, red and blue represent the colors of the ever-active gang rivalry between the Crips (blue) and the Bloods (red) in Compton. Kendrick raps that despite his avoiding joining or taking part in either gang, he is still harassed "walking from Bible study," a fantastic juxtaposition that shows us how even the most innocent endeavors are tainted by the violent culture that surrounds them. In a clever double entendre, K-Dot tells us how "[living] in the street with rank" in fact makes the city "rank."
In the second verse, "the blinking of red and blue" transform into police lights. Southern California has a long history of police brutality against African-Americans, notably Rodney King and the LA riots. And these manifestations of racial tensions permeates the lives of adolescents living in Compton even today, as Kendrick reveals as he raps, "Every time you clock in the morning, I feel you just want to kill/ All my innocence while ignoring my purpose to persevere as a better person/ I know you heard this and probably in fear/ But what am I supposed to do?" Despite Kendrick's own real convictions to be better than his situation, the police don't recognize him as an individual, but rather racially profile him as someone who couldn't possibly be "innocent," an assumption that, Kendrick points out, is based "in fear." In this brilliant comparison, Lamar is basically saying that the gangs and the police are one in the same for him, unjustly acting upon corrupt and vindictive motives. And Kendrick feels trapped, he doesn't know what to do, because "he know we'll never respect, the good kid, m.A.A.d. city." Lamar expands his argument to a universal level, pointing out how even in our post-civil rights era, it's hard for most people to get past racial stereotypes. He goes deeper, saying that these stereotypes then backfire, and end up molding even those who try to avoid them - a form of "social determinism." And though Kendrick keeps insisting that deep down he is that "good kid," we already know how easily he got caught up in the violence of his streets, even if he didn't plan or want to.
"And you ask, "Lift up your shirt" cause you wonder if a tattoo/ Of affiliation can make it a pleasure to put me through/ Gang files, but that don't matter because the matter is racial profile" - good kid
Unlike his predecessors though, Lamar never explicitly says "Fuck tha Police," but he instead takes that old ethos of gangsta rap and re-examines and reappropriates it to suit his more introspective purpose. This is especially apparent in "m.A.A.d. city." The angry flow, the clever gun references ("IV's on top of IV's"), and the interrogation ("where you from my nigga?") are all there, but Kendrick doesn't absolve himself of blame just because he can easily hold his environment accountable for his situation. He asks, "If I told you I killed a nigga at 16, would you believe me?/ Or see me to be innocent Kendrick you seen in the street," foreshadowing events that are yet to come. Until now he's been giving us the impression that underneath the effects of the "m.A.A.d. city," he's still a boy with a heart of gold. However, this is not exactly true. Environmental determinism and peer pressure were definitely major factors in his corruption, as "Kendrick AKA Compton's human sacrifice" argues when he raps, "I live inside the belly of the rough/ Compton, U.S.A. made Me an Angel on Angel Dust." (He is referring to the first time he smoked marijuana, unwittingly dragging on a joint that was laced with cocaine. Also "m.A.A.d." stands for "my Angel's on Angel dust.) Yet in an epiphany that pulls the album together in "Sing About Me...", Kendrick still acknowledges that he must take some responsibility for the mistakes he made in order to ever escape the violent city culture he's trapped in. In fact, this is where Kendrick really shines on the album, in trying to reconcile his internal contradictions.
The track that follows is arguably lyrically the weakest, as well as the album's radio-friendly lead single. "Swimming Pools (Drank)" is a rather straightforward exploration and critique of the ubiquity of alcohol in ghetto culture. However this gives the song the opportunity to emphasize Kendrick's other strengths, namely his contemporary sound and slick production. Throughout the album, Lamar has the uncommon ability to approach heavy subject matter in a way that is undeniably fresh and listenable. He doesn't preach, but muses over skeletal, contemplative beats that could be considered boring if they didn't serve their purpose of focusing and supporting the lyrics so well. In this way, Kendrick truly represents a new generation of hip-hop artists; heis perhaps the only rapper in recent history who has successfully created fantastic party music with an anti-alcoholic message.
And though the narrative pauses for an alcohol-induced reprieve, in the skit that follows "Swimming Pools," one of Kendrick's homies, Dave, is killed in a shoot-out caused by Kendrick relationship with Sherane. It is in this awful moment that K-Dot truly understands the effects of the violent culture in which he is trapped as well as the feeling of blood on his hands.
I count lives all on these songs
Look at the weak and cry, pray one day you'll be strong
Fighting for your rights, even when you're wrong
And hope that at least one of you sing about me when I'm gone
The climax of the album is Kendrick's twelve minute (yes, twelves minutes, but it's worth it) reckoning, "Sing About Me, I'm Dying of Thirst." Earlier Kendrick hinted at being responsible for killing a man, and we now know he was probably figuratively talking about Dave. He also states he had a dream akin to MLK's because he feels racially repressed by the ghetto he had no choice but to grow up in. Both of these threads come together in this track. Kendrick's dream is made apparent: to tell his story in order to overcome "m.A.A.d. city," which proves to be only possible by getting out. The most interesting aspect of this song is the rather overtly spiritual lyrics that come into play full force after many earlier, yet subtler, allusions. In "Sing About Me," Kendrick's first two verses come from the points of view of ghosts that still haunt him, years later. The first is from Dave's brother who says he's "fortunate [Kendrick] believe[s] in a dream," instead of the "I ain't give a fuck" attitude of Dave's brother, "the same mentality that told my brother not to duck," the same mentality that cuts off his verse, and hopes, with gunshots, implying that Dave's brother was also killed before Kendrick's album dropped. The second is from the point of view of the sister of Keisha, a woman Kendrick dedicated a song to on his first album Section. 80. She angrily defends her sister's lifestyle, even though she was raped then killed, and talks about she herself also continues to prostitute on the streets. This woman doesn't feel fortunate, however, saying, "But fuck that 'Sorry for your loss' shit/ My sister died in vain, but what point are you trying to gain/ If you can't fit the pumps I walk in?" She doesn't want Kendrick to apologize for the life she was given, and comes at with a rather proud "it is what it is" attitude. She doesn't want Kendrick to sing about her, but he does anyway. The third verse extends the religious metaphor, comparing growing up in Compton to being "condemned." Kendrick raps, "If I'm doomed, may the wound/ Help my mother be blessed for many moons," subtly comparing himself to Christ. In a way, he is the "messiah" of his city. He tells Keisha's story because he feels "it need to be told." He counts lives, weeps for the weak and voiceless, and fights for their rights, even when the rest of the world considers them "wrong," or worthless because of the lives they're trapped in, and doesn't give them a second look.
And though, in this sense, Kendrick could be considered a "savior," he's really the one who needs saving. In "Dying of Thirst" (a thirst the "Swimming Pools" cannot quench), Kendrick admits to a metaphorical need for holy water, for God, to save him. He recognizes his own culpability in his actions: "How many sins? I'm running out/ How many sins? I lost count." He continues to liken his city to a "desert" where all its citizens are dying a slow and painful death. Then finally, "tired of tumbling," he recounts, "Back once my momma say/ 'See a pastor, give me a promise/ ...The truth will set you free.'" She is referring to the act of confession, which is one way of looking at this entire album. Rap is Kendrick's metaphorical savior, not the other way around. Rap gave Kendrick a way out of Compton, as well as a chance to tell the stories of the people without a voice of their own. In doing so, Kendrick is finally able to take responsibility for his own life, extract himself from the grasp of environmental determinism, while still recognizing the effect of these external sources. When Kendrick creates his album, in a way he is hoping to be reborn, baptizing himself. (Hip) "hop in that water," his mother tells him, "and pray that it works."
You love your hood, might even love it to death
But what love got to do with it when you don't love yourself?
GKMC ends with "Compton," an uncomfortable victory lap featuring Dr. Dre, yet exuding the same feigned machismo as "Backstreet Freestyle." In fact, it's quite a let down, because Kendrick very much falls into the rap stereotype he seemed to be avoiding throughout the entire ego, the rap ego. When Dre comes up, so does the wall that separates Kendrick's image and his conscious. Dre raps, "I pass the blunt then pass the torch" and Kendrick accepts, even though he doesn't smoke and most definitely isn't an N.W.A. sort of gansta rapper.
Even after all he's been through, part of Kendrick still celebrates Compton. Though he physically achieved his dream of getting out, it's as if his mind is stuck there. In fact, in an interview (above), Kendrick explains why made GKMC in the first place, stating:
It’s really just a self-portrait. I feel I need to make this this album in order to move on with my life, and I had negative vibes and demons haunting me. It’s that real. I had to come from somewhere, I had to come from a place — it could have been negative, it could have been positive but for the majority of it, it was negative place. I needed to vent and put this message out in order for me to grow as a person. I’m glad I did, because it was a venting process, you know, to tell these stories I never told.
However, on the album at least, Kendrick doesn't fully accomplish this dream; the skit at the end of the story depicts Kendrick borrowing his mama's car for fifteen minutes, which places us back at the beginning of his story (in the skit at the end of "Sherane aka Master Splinter's Daughter Kendrick's mama says Kendrick took the van and said he'd be back in fifteen minutes), creating in "good kid, m.A.A.d. city" an endless loop of Compton that we're not sure Kendrick can ever escape.
Let me start off by saying that I personally believe Nicki Minaj is, in fact, insane. New York Times accurately describes her as "a walking exaggeration"; from her Lady Gaga-esque fashion to her multiple alter egos, Minaj shifts through personas like a chameleon hopping amphetamine. With such erratic mannerisms she can claim rap royalty in some verses but risk shallow rhymes in others (Pink Friday in its majority, for example). Too often Minaj's flow is like a slinky: a solid force in short verse bursts, but dismally transparent when stretched across entire tracks. Still, she has some undeniable swagger, not to mention an ass that won't quit.
"The only time you on the net is when you google my ass,"
-Nicki Minaj, Ass by Big Sean
Early Life Born on December 8th (for some reason the year is debated between 1982 and 1984), Onika Tanya Maraj, otherwise known as Nicki Minaj, is a mixed Indian Afro-Trinidadian from Saint James, Trinidad and Tobago. She is the middle child of parents Robert and Carol Maraj and lived with her grandmother in Saint James until she was five years old. Maraj states that at age five her mother took her to Queens, New York because her father, in addition to being a junkie and a drunkard, tried to kill her mother by burning the house down. All the same, she grew up with a relatively artistic lifestyle; playing the clarinet in elementary school, attending a predominately musical, visual, and performing arts high school, and participating in the high school drama program. She had a passion to become an actress but ended up working menial jobs at places such as Red Lobster (side note, she was fired for "discourteousness") til age 20. Rap Career In 2004 Onika Maraj signed with Brooklyn group Full Force and began her rap career as the fourth [wo]man to rap group Hoodstars. Shortly after they released a theme for a WWE female wrestler's entrance, Maraj left because she was dissatisfied with the group's popularity. She was then picked up by Dirty Money Entertainment's CEO, Fendi, who dubbed her "Nicki Minaj". She then went on to make her own mixtapes and was featured in a film of underground New York rappers entitled "The Come Up Volume 11" where she was discovered and recruited by Lil Wayne into YMCMB (Young Money Cash Money Business), a rap group starring Weezy, Drake, and other artists. She received much praise for her verses in Bedrock and Roger That, and from there Minaj was able to start her own solo career.
Female Rapper
Minaj's most redeeming quality is her ability to get down and dirty with the big boys (like Drake, Lil Wayne, and Kanye West) while simultaneously maintaining the image of a sex icon. Critics contribute a large part of her success towards her determination to do whatever it takes to get her to the top and stay relevant. Her dramatic nature might not have suited her for her dreams of being an actress, but her place in hip hop is in and of itself a bold statement. I personally don't see a deeper side of Minaj, but perhaps that's exactly what she wants. To dominate an extremely superficial industry, a "Hollywood dehumanization" must occur. What I mean by this is that there are more or less set models of how female entertainers are supposed to look: long, straight hair; long eyelashes; big lips; large breasts; thin waist; prominent derriere; long legs; flawless, tan skin (bonus points if you're a foreigner; so exotic), etc.. To become one of the biggest contributors to rap, hip hop, and pop culture, Minaj had to subject herself to the edifications of the Photoshop pen and the blueprints of a female artist. This is not to take away from her success in a genre that ultimately objectifies and subjects women to inferior status. But personality-wise, Nicki Minaj is more similar to a pair of 12 sided dice than a shiny silver dollar.
I am the female Weezy, this shit is easy Pull up in that new new, bitch get a squeegee Yeah my flow sick, yeah my flow queasy Haha, they were sleeping on me, z-zz-zz This pussy clean, this pussy squeaky That pussy old, that pussy creaky When I’m out the country, niggas call me Neeki Hi, How are you? Yes, it’s nice to meet me Damn, Billboard, I mean I'm winning but I'm still bored Yeah we shine, gold cluster As for your career, dead: Ghost Busters
Like any rap artist should, Minaj is able to adapt and embody the essence of any song she enters. Here she demonstrates the rich, fresh, prideful superstar side of her that "Y. U. MAD" boasts about. She states that she is the effeminate version of the infamous tat-covered, cop-hovered druggie skater Weezy. No doubt paying an homage to the main artist responsible for her popularity, Minaj's relationship with Lil Wayne is similar to that of Eminem and Dr. Dre. Though on different wavelengths of the genre, Mr. Carter expresses a passing of the torch to Minaj at the end of his verse:
"Been had it on lock, gave the key to Nick" -Lil Wayne, Y. U. MAD
Rap Genius offers insight: "Lil wayne’s has been running the rap game since 2006 and even longer for his true fans. With Nicki’s recent award at the VMAs for rap song of the year with super bass, he is passing the key to her. Lil wayne showing a rare moment of modesty." -RG
Here's her collaboration with Drake, Nas, and Young Jeezy:
[Verse 1: Nicki Minaj]
This a celebration, this is levitation
Look at how you winning now?
This to dedication; this is meditation
Higher education; this the official competitor elimination
I-I-I-I was taking trips with Webs to move weight
Came back to Queens to hit up a new state
Bitches don't know the half, like they flunk they math
Bitches ain't half cut up crack up in the stash
50 Cent Italian, icy flow
This is that Run-and-Get-a-Dollar-for-The-Ice-Cream-Cone
Cause they killed my little cousin Nicholas
But my memories only happy images
This is for the hood, this is for the kids
This is for the single mothers; niggas doing bids
This one is for Tee-Tee, Tweety, Viola, Sharika
Candice, Temby, Lauren, Aiesha
[Hook: Nicki Minaj]
It's a celebration (For the ghetto)
It's time like these (Ooh, ooh)
They know who we are (They know who we are)
Champion, the champions (Champion, champion)
[Verse 2: Drake]
Yeah, okay
We made it to America
I remember when I used to stay with Erica
Labor transferred 20 million to Comerica
It's fucking terrible, it's got me acting out of character
Young T.O. nigga, either riding range
The Ferrari top down, screaming, "Money ain't a thang!"
Tell me when I change, girl, but only when I change
Cause I live this shit for real, niggas know me in the game, they know!
Making hits in three acre cribs
Cooking up tryna eat niggas, steak and ribs
I made a couple stars outta basic chicks
Nowadays blow the candles out, don't even make a wish
Having good times, making good money
Lot of bad bitches, but they good to me
I make them do the splits for a rap
Wish you niggas good luck, trynna get where I'm at
Straight like that
[Hook: Nicki Minaj]
[Verse 3: Young Jeezy]
Straight balling in this bitch, Jeremy Lin; 'Melo
Tell me one thing you won't do: Settle
Give me one word for each chain: Yellow
Pocket full of money, black card; ghetto
Critics say I ain't in the game, A.I
This is how you deal with the fame: Stay high
Stay putting on for the town; may I?
What you call a crib in the sky? Play high
4 Mill in three weeks, y'all did it like a champ
Momma taught me pride, yes, she did it with the stamps
Wait a minute, everybody pause for the photos
Somebody tell these local hating niggas, I'm global
Tell me what I gotta do to get this champagne going
What I gotta do to get this coconut flowing?
Don't let me hear Sean Carter, I'm the ballest of the ace
Let me hit up Sean Comb money case that's on my place, let's celebrate
[Hook]
[Verse 4: Nas]
I saw my first two million dollars, I was 23
I'm barely a man, yet, I had some killers under me
This ain't rated PG, this rated PJ
Cause that's where a nigga from murder on replay
My 24th b-day, I'm sailing to Bermuda, you can see me on a yacht
Blasting Pac, little not, I ain't greedy
I'm back to thugging, bitches
Back to making them kiss other bitches
My man sister like me, I don't fuck my brothers sister
I just aspire and desire to be different
My ten year old plan is just one year to finish
My list went like this, first thing discover
The difference in pussy, white, Black, Latin or other
Here's a man who clearly isn't basic
Waiting lists just to hear me or witness the greatness
Loud laughter, while writing my next chapter
Fast Cash Life, happily ever after
Champions
[Hook]
As the chorus suggests, this song is on the opposite spectrum of hip hop emotions: a celebration of the ghetto and all the joyous and painful memories that belong to it. Being the seventh track on Pink Friday: Roman Reloaded, Nicki slows down her "HOV lane" pace to salute her past. Bringing in Nas and Young Jeezy (Drake doesn't know suffering in the ghetto, he's CANADIAN, for pete's sake) was a smart move on her part. Mixing the young and the old, Minaj achieves a more mature and professional status. Origins are just as important as current success to hip hop artists.
Best for last:
Monster: Pull up in the monster Automobile gangster With a bad bitch that came from Sri Lanka Yeah I’m in that Tanka, color of Willy Wonka You could be the King but watch the Queen conquer Ok first things first I’ll eat your brains Then Ima start rocking gold teeth and fangs Cause that’s what a muthafucking monster do Hairdresser from milan, thats the monster do Monster Giuseppe heel that’s the monster shoe Young money is the roster in the monster crew And I’m all up all up all up in the bank with the funny face And if I’m fake I aint notice cause my money aint So let me get this straight wait Im the rookie But my features and my shows ten times your pay 50k for a verse no album out! Yeah my money’s so tall that my barbie’s gotta climb it Hotter than a middle eastern climate, find it Tony Matterhorn dutty whine it Whine it, nicki on them titties when I sign it How these niggas so one-track minded But really really I don’t give a F-U-C-K Forget barbie fuck nicki cause she’s fake She on a diet but her pocketseating cheese cake And I’ll say bride of Chucky is Child’s play Just killed another career it’s a mild day Besides 'Ye they can’t stand besides me I think think me, you and 'em should Minaj friday Pink wig thick ass give em whip lash I think big get cash make em blink fast Now look at what you just saw this is what you live for Aaahhhh, I’m a muthaf-cking monster! This verse tops all of her work, previous and current. Again, her chameleon superpowers allow her to personify a number of personalities to create the greatest interaction between one person in a rap song ever. It's a bipolar battle between herself, using Roman and Barbieas her vocal puppets. Not only does she dominate the entire song, but her fictitious overly feminized side of her as well. The fact that the "girly" side of her is named Barbie goes back to "Hollywood dehumanization". Barbie represents fake, plastic ideals of women. Minaj probably has this side of her to appease the party side of her (aka the stuff that gets played on the radio), but from this verse one can tell that this is not her true nature or perhaps the tip of the iceberg. Obviously, the crazy british gay twin brother side of her has a little more freedom in vocabulary, which is by default more fun. However, in this Kanye song specifically she hints at an ability to take the idea of, let's say, a "monster", and take it to the next level. This much more entertaining and lyrically interesting than any raps about money, sex, or drugs. Though Nicki Minaj is more often than not attributed to the decay of hip hop (see Mehek's final paper about 2Chainz), as an artist and performer, she keeps people on their toes. As listeners, we hope to hear more verses like the one in "Monster", but she keeps her material somewhat balanced with her chart toppers "Superbass", "Starships", "Pound the Alarm", "Va Va Voom", etc.. To get to where she is now was not an easy feat, but where she goes from there will decide if there's more than meets the eye, or if she's truly just a barbie.
