The New Rappers: Pain Personified

I pride myself on my ability to put aside prejudices and look for the deeper meaning in most things. However, sometimes there is no deeper meaning and what you see is what you get, but it doesn’t hurt to look.

Well here goes,

Generation Y rappers aren’t getting a fair shake, from the media, from the OGs and from anyone over thirty. Just because their lyricism doesn’t compare to that of Tupac, Biggie, Rahim and the rest of the greats doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t listen to what they have to say. In case anyone hasn’t noticed, this bunch isn’t the most articulate and I doubt they have any kind of media training when they’re just starting out. So yes, they come off really ignorant, uneducated and sometimes straight up dumb. But, I really hate when people don’t even bother to listen to their music, like you’ve never googled the lyrics of a song before because you don’t understand what the artist is saying. People don’t put in any effort into understanding these kids perspectives, the pain they feel or environments that they grew up in. Their music is literally an audio documentary of their lives. They’re on drugs, they suffer from depression, were raised in crippling poverty, had to raise themselves, influenced by the corner hoodlums and are literally products of their environments. It’s funny how we excuse the greats for all the cases they caught when they were young and now suddenly expect the new rappers to know better. In the words of Khalid, they’re just young, dumb and broke. Unfortunately, that’s the reality for a lot of people, no future in sight. Why was Xxxtentacion talking about death so much? He probably saw it coming. What else should he have expect from his life? Being shuffled around from household to household, absentee mother, father imprisoned most of his life, locked up in juvenile detention, ends up making music, sad ass music which catapults him into success. Everyone was out here playing Sad! (the song), not realizing that this kid was really trying to tell us something.

The way my extreme empathy is set up, his death actually shook me to my core. It’s the first time a musical artist who’s music I’ve connected with has kicked the bucket. But life goes on right? RIP, who’s next? Callous, I know but that’s literally how it goes and that begs the question, how many more? How many shootings? How many overdoses? How many suicides? How many more fucked up shit needs to happen before we try to find solutions?

I’m here writing from my relatively safe and untouched bubble letting you know that from where I’m sitting, the future’s looking real bleak.


Therapy is for everyone

Also, the internet wasn’t here 30 years ago to publicize all the stupid stuff that was happening

Stay tuned for the next mass shooting aka media money maker of the week.


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