I always knew i wasnt gon be gay
As an individual identifying as a transgender lesbian woman who has consistently immersed herself in rap culture throughout her entire life, a sense of fear has, quite frankly, become a foreign concept to me. This particular life path, one might observe, mirrors the widely circulated meme featuring an ant burdened by a stick and a bag over its shoulder—a journey, frankly, that you would likely wish to avoid. So profoundly habituated have I become to serving as the target of humor that I can readily foresee the moment a rapper will unleash a derogatory term merely by analyzing their rhyming structure. Regrettably, the presence of such disparaging lyrical content is a reality with which I have ultimately made my peace. Given how fundamental rap music is to my sense of Black identity, there are instances where I endeavor to disregard its flaws, much like one might overlook an eccentric remark from a grandmother during a festive Thanksgiving assembly. It is an infrequent occurrence indeed that I feel truly recognized and comprehended by the relatively scarce, popular queer artists within the genre; more often than not, my auditory senses are subjected to the torment inflicted by a middle-aged, homophobic individual sporting a Rocawear cap.
I intend to present some of the most noteworthy rap lyrics pertaining to queer identities, a considerable number of which I sincerely wish had never reached my ears. Even though queerphobic sentiments have been entrenched within the genre from its very commencement, concurrently, a substantial history of supportive advocacy has also emerged (for instance, homo hop, a specific subgenre of rap from the early 2000s, was singularly dedicated to combating such detrimental discourse during that period). Conceivably, we might find ourselves chuckling at the sheer absurdity of the intolerance while simultaneously embracing the uplifting instances where queer rappers manage to establish themselves within what is undeniably an intricate and challenging artistic landscape.
Sahbabii—'House Party (feat. T3)'
'They thought I was gay when I had the Uggs on'
Pray tell, Sahbabii, who exactly held the belief that you were homosexual while clad in Uggs? Was it the entire hip-hop community, perchance? Or merely an isolated non-binary individual? Which aspect, I wonder, is more amusing: the reality that they linked Sahbabii's footwear fashion to his intimate preferences, his conviction that this warranted inclusion in a song, or the subsequent declaration, 'had the .38,' implying that possessing a firearm somehow exempts one from accusations of homosexuality? Indeed, it is evidently intended as an allusion to Young Thug's line, 'Had to wear the dress cause I had the stick,' which was his retort concerning the emblematic 'JEFFERY' album cover, famously depicting him adorned in voluminous purple attire. However, would it not be far more logical, one might ask, to conceal a weapon beneath a dress rather than within an&8230;Ugg boot?
quinn—'please don't waste my time'
'Mama said the life I'm living is just the life of a man / Except the gender change just wasn't part of the plan'
Magnificent. A lyric, truly, that one might ardently wish to have originated oneself. This particular instance marked one of my initial encounters with an articulation of gender fluidity that simultaneously embodied the unique lived reality of the Black community. The 'mama said…' lyrical construct, reminiscent of the boom-bap style, when introducing a line concerning gender transition, effectively establishes a sharp contrast between the genre's perceived toughness and an individual's lived experience within its confines. Her personal gender identity exerts no influence whatsoever upon her active involvement in a cultural sphere that has demonstrably shaped her being. Quinn, it is clear, remains unswayed by external pressures; instead, she articulates reality with unwavering candor.
tenkay—'Respect My Mind'
'My b got she/her pronouns but she was a he first'
Indeed, astonishing. Although I've participated in numerous seminar-based courses at Vassar, no deliberation proved as insightful as the one I shared with my female companions regarding this very lyric upon the song's release last year. Was tenkay, perhaps, vociferously advocating for transgender rights? Or was he, conversely, projecting the image of a 'chaser' (an individual who fetishizes transgender people)? While, certainly, I did experience a sense of being acknowledged (to some extent, perhaps), what prompted the necessity of publicly divulging such an intimate detail? And, importantly, was tenkay's partner cognizant of this particular public revelation?
Young Thug—'Die Slow'
'I always knew I wasn't gonna be gay / Had her sending naked pictures to my mom's phone when I was like 8'
Liberate Thugger! He is, regrettably, a casualty not only of the carceral industrial complex but also of childhood grooming. It is, indeed, disconcerting how effortlessly he bypasses such a grave concern to concentrate instead on a considerably less significant matter. Perhaps this phenomenon reveals something about the specific aspects that hip-hop's political discourse chooses to prioritize. Regardless, I find it utterly comical that he is, by his own admission, acutely conscious of the prospect of being gay. As if, right from the start, he possessed an unwavering certainty that he would not, in fact, be homosexual. From the very outset, his conviction seemed to be, 'Indeed, I shall undoubtedly avoid a fate similar to Tommy, who toils at the Seafood Palace located just down the thoroughfare.' Nevertheless, I do hope that particular woman is eventually apprehended.
SoFaygo—'Clash'
'Hop in that whip and then kill a queer'
Truly quite preposterous. This is utterly devoid of a clever lyrical punchline; instead, it is merely an open proclamation of a hate crime! There is absolutely nothing ingenious about it whatsoever. Furthermore, it is remarkably peculiar to grasp the authentic presence of such a sentiment within certain individuals. When Faygo began recording, this abhorrent thought was apparently the very first concept that occurred to him. Quite repulsive. The entrenched position of homophobia within hip-hop appears to stem from a profound embedding in a rigid masculine/feminine dichotomy, wherein the hypermasculine archetype garners all commendation and reverence, rendering this particular statement rather…unsettling. While SoFaygo's vibrantly pink dreadlocks and charming choreography suggest a somewhat forward-thinking stride towards dismantling that gender dichotomy, his lyrical content unfortunately does not corroborate this progression.
Kuru—'boohoo'
'I can't f with these b, I'm gay'
Please refrain from referring to them in that manner, friend. However, on a more earnest note, this could genuinely be considered one of the most exceptional lyrical verses ever conceived. Its straightforward yet delightful nature makes it genuinely difficult to conceive that such a sentiment had not been articulated by anyone beforehand. My belief is that queer rappers ought to emulate this particular approach, moving beyond the characteristic millennial-era autobiographical disclosure track. This is a serious point. There exists an inherently personal and distinctive quality to queer identity, and the associated emotions need not invariably be perceived with such solemnity! One is perfectly able to enjoy oneself and maintain a lighthearted perspective concerning it.
MF DOOM—'Batty Boyz'
'Oh shoot, get a load of that fruit'
Rest in peace, DOOM. I specifically selected this particular example due to its amusingly characteristic 'DOOM-esque' nature. He initiates what is arguably his most homophobic composition (bearing in mind the title is, quite literally, a derogatory term in Jamaican Patois for a gay boy) by employing the ludicrous lyrical maneuvers for which he is widely celebrated. The line itself strongly resembles a widely circulated social media post—'Imagine MF DOOM if he were homophobic: Oh shoot, get a load of that fruit!'—except for the crucial distinction that this was an actual utterance from the artist. Alas. One must suppose that none of our revered idols can truly be infallible.
Ultimately, what all of this conveys is the remarkably intricate interplay that exists between queer identity and hip-hop culture. Within this contemporary period, characterized by the simultaneous dissemination of numerous disparate underground movements (a phenomenon facilitated by social media), discerning the current situation of queerness within the genre can easily lead to perplexity. As an illustrative instance, consider Lil Uzi Vert, who identifies as non-binary, yet associates with Opium newcomer Ken Carson, an individual who has not uttered the most amicable words regarding transgender individuals. Whether humanity is collectively programmed to disregard gender politics or merely unprepared to engage in those challenging conversations remains entirely unclear to me; however, for the present moment, I find contentment in accepting my small victories. Admittedly, even if I personally find Lil Nas X's musical output somewhat unappealing, the endeavors he undertakes undeniably achieve a significant impact. Given that queerness will assuredly never depart from the realm of rap, perhaps the time is ripe for the emergence of protracted, exaggerated feuds—reminiscent of the Biggie vs. Pac rivalry—focused on compelling accountability from those resistant to evolving societal norms.