Dollars Make Sense.

Today’s Daily Math: Beats + Babes = Bitches??

Posted in truth. by Jason Mekkam on June 26, 2010

If I had a vagina I’m not sure how down with hip-hop I’d be.

Just keeping it 100.

At their most basic, many raps ideologically are nothing more than ego-driven pissing contests. Boasts set to beats. Blame the lost art of battle rapping. While the ancient practice of two dudes going at each other in fierce competition of the verbals is all but extinct, its legacy of lyrical showmanship very much remains with us.

Consequently, you’re favorite MC today feels compelled to not only speak on wax bout how dope he be, but too bout how his dopeness is exponentially superior to your dopeness. That’s how the game works he figures. Thus he throws his success in your face. Unapologetically. He lets you know. His rented Bentley is mad sexier than your preowned 94’ Nissan Altima. He stays flyin on private jets to Cancun while you taking the bus to Taco Bell.

His dick > Yo dick.

Under this mindset, hip-hop becomes a numbers game. Whoever has more, in terms of size, quantity, or excess wins. What’s a trip though is how females equate into rap’s little contest o’ numbers.

For example, take my man Wiz Khaifa. I like him. In the Dollar Make Sense.’s short existence, he’s already garnered not one, but two posts all to himself. An impressive feat no doubt fittin to appear on his Wikipedia page any day now. But more of import of than my admiration is that of the fairer sex’s. Ladies love em’ some Taylor Gang affiliated, ultra-skinny, tatted to the most, always blazed rapper from Pittsburg. Which is understandable. Dude does spit.

Yet, when I put on my super-duper analytical glasses, something appears off.

Again. I like Wiz. But on the real, the kid only raps about four subjects: girls, smoking weed, kicking it, and fucking your girl. But now when I say girls I mean..

Well here’s a line of his track Medal To The Pedal:

There you have it: girls bitches.

I’m not even trying to single out Wiz. Using bitch, ho, and pussy as synonyms for woman, lady, and female is a genre-wide epidemic. The hood. Jeezy. Weezy. And oh ya, Yeezy. Everyone’s doing it.

Such colorful adjectives serves dual purposes for the rapper: 1) Being able to strip women from their femaleness gasses up the rapper. A male supremacy trip for sure. 2) Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation made it so you can’t actually own peeps. Lucky for Mr. MC, hoes to the rescue! Turnin women into bitches completes the cycle of objectification, makin it possible for them to become another item to be collected. Like Jesus Pieces and Patron Bottles.

In face of such overt disrespect and male chauvinism what’s a lady to do?

Not a whole lot. Options are slim/not so awesome. They could turn off the iPod. Choose to walk away. Protest with their ears and simply look towards another genre for their musical fixins. But that’s no fun. You can’t back that thang up to 3 Doors Down.

The second option is to simply overlook the sexism. But this causes problems too. In a random political theory class, I scooped up (like a ground ball) a pretty nifty term: cognitive dissonance – the distress/uncomfortable feeling caused by holding onto to contradictory ideas simultaneously. This distress is really real as women must juggle:

With:

Often, in attempt to satisfy this uncomfortable feeling, women have resorted to dissociation: “Oh Wanye’s not talking bout me. He’s talkin about those bitches. You know. The one’s he making it rain on..”

For the record, this reasoning is pretty poopy. It doesn’t hold much weight. For example, if someone were to drop an N-Bomb anywhere in near my vicinity, aim is irrelevant. Floyd Money Mayweather on someones ass I’m going. Better be believing.

So what’s the real solution then? How can we stop the overt objectification and verbal oppression of our ladies? What’s the answer?

Iunno.

What I do know though is that it’s not simply a female problem. The hip-hop culture, my culture, is one that at times has been my only safety net when everything else seemed to going wrong. Yet too, it’s also one that not only celebrates ignorance in grand fashion, but reverences it. This brand of ignorance is mentally erosive to all partipants. I know this. I witness this. I live this. As everyday, bitches and hoes infiltrate the everyday speech of my peers and I to the point where no one even notices. We all grow Sealy Posturepedic comfy with em’. Till such terms become interchangeable.

Women = Bitches.

Sadly.

Now I’m not even trying to be holier than though. Nor am I trying to be like anyone of those assholes who attempt to crucify my music without even being able to differentiate Black Thought from the Black Eyed Peas. But as someone who considers himself to be part of this cultural, I gotta admitt. The cognitive dissonance that females face. The cognitive dissonance that I face. Quite simply gives me pause..

But not knowing what to do and and admittedly knowing that deep down, I myself am willing to overlook hip-hop’s shortcoming because I love it, onward I march. With every mixtape downloaded, every new pair of J’s copped, and every bottle of Mickey’s downed, deeper into this culture I head.

For better or for worse.

As my dude Wiz say..

Pedal to the Metal.

http://www.lightningmp3.com/live/file.php?id=24136

Editor’s Note: Shout out to Combat Jack.

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One Response

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  1. I Kicknowledge said, on June 26, 2010 at 10:31 pm

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uvNGLBv82LA this puts all of this into comedy. one of my favorites, 2:50 is the part about the woman loving rap: the dirtier the better haha

    Clement


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