Separating the Rap from the Rapper

Certified Lover Boy, or Certified Pedophile? This was the question fans of the rapper Drake had to ask themselves last summer. American rapper Kendrick Lamar popularly uttered these words during his and Drake’s widely publicized feud in early 2024. Lamar levied heavy accusations against the worldwide superstar, insinuating that Drake, or at least that members of his entourage, are sexual predators. While his claims are not yet fully verified, there remains select evidence to back up Lamar’s claims, like when Drake kissed an underage fan at one of his concerts, even after confirming that she was just seventeen. Still, even after these claims surfaced and being embarrassingly outrapped by Lamar, Drake’s superfans remain loyal to him. 

As an admirer of hip-hop, watching the “beef” from an outside perspective was a glorious experience. The clever wordplay and production of a song like “Meet the Grahams” satisfied the musician in me, and Drake’s humor on “Family Matters” made me audibly laugh, as he wittily struck back at Lamar’s assertion that his racial ambiguity precluded him from using a certain racial slur, the n-word. 

But the rivalry also highlighted a troubling pattern in the rap community: the blind adoration for the superstars. Drake, despite the alarming allegations and real-life instances of pedophilia, remained the year’s top-performing rapper and is arguably as popular as ever. If you look at his subreddit and all over Instagram reels, you can find avowed enthusiasts jumping to defend his honor and legacy as one of hip-hop’s “Greatest of All Times.” Even Lamar is not immune to this phenomenon; en route to his Grammy near-sweep and Super Bowl headline, accusations of his domestic abuse emerged from the Drake feud. 

This cult-like following, the unconcerned attachment to our favorite artists, is a worrying trend, one that has grown over the years in the hip-hop sphere. Formerly known as Kanye West, Ye’s narcissistic and arrogant behavior at the 2009 MTV Video Music Awards was cause for concern, yet his fans remained more or less supportive of his music at that point. Now, nearly sixteen years later, some of those same fans keep him in high regard despite his anti-Semitic and, to put it very, very mildly, politically incorrect turn. It seems astounding that even with his—and other rappers—persistently deplorable behavior, they can maintain large followings and even grow in popularity. These instances of course take us back to the age-old question, can we separate the rap from the rapper? 

Part of the issue lies within rap’s inherent relatability. While most may not connect with the sometimes grandiose and braggadocious rhymes, hip-hop’s roots are in the stories of inner-city neighborhoods, often giving a voice to the voiceless youth and marginalized who listened to it. As the genre evolved, so did its subject matter. Rappers began to speak about their mental health struggles and personal battles, something that struck a chord with many avid rap fans globally. 

Take XXXTentacion, who before his untimely death in 2018, released songs that talked about suicide, depression and heartbreak. Some of his hit songs, written when he was just in his late teens, include “Everybody Dies in Their Nightmares” and by far most popular “Sad!”, both of which talk about the rapper’s fight with suicidal ideation. His youth, relatability and talent propelled him into mainstream stardom, where he gained cult status and where he now remains one of the most listened-to artists even seven years after his death. But this popularity stands in contradiction to his often deplorable behavior. He was an admitted abuser who physically assaulted his pregnant girlfriend and he reportedly stabbed nine people. His connection to his fans and other musicians, as well as his early passing, seems to have given XXXTentacion’s legacy a shroud of innocence, hiding the dark past that mars it. 

Many other rappers can play on this relatability factor to conceal their misdeeds. The aforementioned Ye does this exceptionally well. While his current musical output is fraught with the use of artificial intelligence and controversial lyrics, his music of old gave listeners an insight into his upbringing, bridging themes of class, love and faith. His production prowess also lends to his status as another one of hip-hop’s greatest. This greatness has in many ways overshadowed his rampant anti-Semitic, pro-Nazi and racist behavior. Many fans still lay in wait, hoping his new projects will be a return to his prior merit, especially after their disappointment with his last two endeavors, Vultures 1 and Vultures 2. While some have jumped ship, his cult status maintains many of his faithful who seem to willingly ignore his peculiar behavior. 

But sometimes, it has little to do with the rapper’s perceived greatness or approachable lyrics. It's just that the artist has made good music and the perceived injustice is not deemed to be bad enough. Travis Scott is a prime example of this phenomenon. Known for his spacey and production-heavy songs, he is a hit-maker who regularly performs in front of sold-out crowds. One of these sold-out performances, the 2021 Astroworld Festival, turned out to be a dark stain on his record, as the overcrowded swarm of concertgoers began to collapse, leading to the deaths of ten people and the injuries of many more. While the incident was not entirely his fault, the rapper caught criticism for continuing to perform despite the visible conditions of the crowd and for his later response to the tragedy. Since the incident, Scott has released a best-selling record and embarked on the accompanying best-selling tour, indicating that his irresponsible and erratic behavior surrounding the Astroworld tragedy was just a small blip in his rap career. Clearly, even the loss of life does not deter the most ardent of rap fans.

Rap seems to attract the worst of both worlds, awfully behaving artists and their near-blind cult following. The most despicable behavior can be forgiven so long as the musician continues to produce good music. Hip-hop fans have ease separating the rap from the rapper it seems, but this can set a dangerous precedent for the future. It’s already been seen with the recent arrest of artist A$AP Rocky, who is going to trial over allegedly firing a gun at a friend. Facing 24 years in prison, I’ve seen many fans proclaim dissatisfaction with having to wait that long for a new album of his, rather than voice distaste for his assault charge.    

Whether those comments are said in jest or not, this tacit acceptance of shameful behavior can enable even worse actions from some of our favorite stars. This endemic issue will inevitably grow larger as the genre continues to rise in popularity, and fans will have to ultimately decide whether they will stick to choosing the rap, or have the courage to ditch the rapper.

Photo credits: Super 45 | Música Independiente at Flickr