Kendrick is Christian.  Coates is an atheist.

Kendrick who’s song “Alright” from the album was released as a single recently seems to have captured the sentiments of hope with a simple refrain “we gon’ be alright” when he performed at the 2015 BET Awards on top of abandoned and graffitied police cars.  Coates’ much anticipated book was written in epistolary format, borrowing from James Baldwin’s The Fire Next Time, is a book intentional void of hope; Coates is intentional in anchoring his lens of commentary and critique in the struggle and how he understands the black male body.

Every thirty or so pages Coates made sure to let the reader know that he was not Christian, atheist in fact.  For him not having that as a tradition in which he was raised in, he opted for the body over that of the soul.  The discussion of the black male body is a running theme in much of Coates corpus of work, and is the string that ties his letters to his son together.  For me, as someone with a theological and spiritual background, engaging a discussion about the black body, and in this case, the black male body, is a discussion we don’t have often.  Or at least as often as we should.

Because of that, if I had my way, I would want to be a fly on the wall and put Ta-Nehesi and Kendrick in a room together and hear what they would have to say to one another.

Ta-Nehesi Coates

I’m uniquely interested in how these two would reconcile the yearnings of hope and the insistence of the struggle.  Coates hangs his hat that struggle is the only thing he can offer his son.  Going so far as to name his child Samori, which means “struggle.”  Decidedly, Coates ran as far as humanly possible away from hope as something to offer both his son and obviously to the reader as well.  It is a text entered into the vade mecum of blackness that stands out because it does not rush toward some hope of a future that’s different.  Melvin Rogers, associate professor of African American Studies & Political Science at UCLA wrote in Dissent Magazine that

After all, the meaning of action is tied fundamentally to what we imagine is possible for us. But when one views white supremacy as impregnable, there is little room for one’s imagination to soar and one’s sense of agency is inescapably constrained.

Coates is no James Baldwin.  Either in terms of his writing style or content.  As Rogers pointed out, Baldwin was a son of hope, Coates is not.  Instead, Coates does write in a Baldwin-esque mind frame by delivering some inconvenient truths to an America that may or may not be willing and ready to receive it.  Cornel West, in a rather scathing response simply said Coates was a “mere darling of White and Black Neo-liberals” which begs the question is Coates work landing just in the ears of white liberal sensibilities or does the impact go farther.

Coates’ dogged insistence on the body strikes a strong chord with a black generation shaped and formed in the gap of modernity and postmodern sensibilities wrestling with their place in a global society and also what it means to be a citizen of the American empire.  For many of them, or rather us, part of the struggle has been at what point does spirituality, namely Christianity run out?  At what point does it no longer exist to have wells deep enough to carry the pain and the despair.  When I read West’s Facebook post against Coates, that’s namely what I saw: two diametrically opposed ideologues over the issue of whether to hope or not.

Kendrick’s life story growing up in the streets of Los Angeles and Coates’ life growing up in inner-city Baltimore are both life stories I don’t overly identify with personally, but growing up on the South Side of Chicago, they are both known testaments that are well within the sight of my vision.  How could two people with similar life experiences be at such opposite ends of a spectrum when it comes to the future of black lives in America?  My gut feeling is to side with Kendrick; to entrench myself with the thought that we gon’ be alright.  However choosing to talk about the plunder of the black body, a running theme beyond just his latest book but even in his famous essay “The Case for Reparations” resonated with me in a way that I had not been able to put into words prior.  Being able to read a text that gives vocabulary, that gives utterance to unnamed emotions is liberating, spiritual in fact.  The way that Christians understand that the Holy Spirit “makes prayer out of wordless sighs and aching groans” is similar in the way that reading the words of a text or listening to music can move the inner-being.  Something about the realness of Coates refusal to move past the pain reverberates with my soul.

The irony of that.

If Kendrick and Ta-Nehesi were in a room together, I would hope they would discuss what it means to be black for them.  Is it first understood on the personal level or is always understood in the collective.  I wonder what type of music do they listen to in their off time.  Do they feel that they occupy a particular platform given their ascendancy to being public figures?  What does black masculinity mean to them and how do they choose to see other black men through that–do gay, bisexual and trans-men fit into that paradigm?  What about black women?  How do they understand them speaking on behalf of other people, or do they reject that notion altogether.  It would be interesting to know what type of relationship they have with their parents or had with grandparents.  How influential were male figures in their life versus that of black women?  Do you hate white people?  What is the role of white people in a Black-centric worldview?  If Kendrick asked Ta-Nehesi why he’s choosing to leave America and move to France, I would certainly wonder how he’d respond to that.

It’s not a foreign concept knowing that many black artists expatriated at some point to Europe in the 20th century such as Josephine Baker, Richard Wright, Nina Simone and even James Baldwin.  Author Thomas Chatterton Williams came under assault after an op-ed piece for the New York Times earlier this year when he suggested that black Americans could find a type of refuge in Europe advocating for a “next great migration” conjuring the Great Migration when blacks left the South in search of warmth from other suns in the northern cities like Chicago, Detroit, Cleveland, Pittsburgh, Philadelphia and New York.  Coates seems to be following in that tradition.  While personally, I don’t see Europe as a place of expatriation for me, I get it.  I would hope Kendrick would ask that question to Ta-Nehesi: why won’t you stay?  Perhaps Ta-Nehesi would flip and say “why won’t you leave?”

Ta-Nehesi and Kendrick are two sides of the same coin, perhaps.  Well, maybe to place them as diametrically opposed to one another isn’t fair to the complexities that the human existence hold, let alone what it means to be black–both in body and in soul.  I wouldn’t expect this conversation to have some grand conclusion, that finally we’ve can consider the matter settled in anyway.  Soul-talk, I would contend, doesn’t like that, and neither does the vast majority of what Cornel West calls the black prophetic Christian tradition.  This trope is never more apparent than in the black preaching tradition that not only focuses heavily on hope, but also providing conclusionary theology: while God may be abstract, there will be a conclusive statement about what God is.  As much as that is is a theological declaration birthed out of one’s belief in the soul, their eschatological trajectory as well as basic religious and doctrinal beliefs, it also functions as a very secular sociology that one’s humanity requires a conclusion.

Assuming that Kendrick subscribes to some of the basic tenets of Christianity that places the conclusion in the hereafter, I would really like to hear he and Ta-Nehesi try and make sense of what I see as two different points of conclusion.  Is one right, the other wrong?  How is one’s lived existence altered because of the belief that this is it, versus the idea that there may be more to come.

So if the gods of blackness are kind, please let this conversation happen–and let me there to see it.

[Originally posted at Uppity Negro Network]

The post If Ta-Nehesi Coates and Kendrick Lamar Had a Conversation… appeared first on Madness & Reality.

You know, it was actually quite hard to type that previous sentence out. Over the past few weeks, much has been said about Kendrick Lamar. Whether it be “lyrical titan”, “weirdo rapper”, “confused human being”, or whatever many want to call him, Kendrick Lamar is still a Black man. And being a Black man, he has to welcome much commentary about his actions. Namely, there will be plenty of people questioning and talking about every little thing he does.

Still, I am usually at a loss for words when someone is questioned over their own personal choices.

Kendrick Lamar Believes in Colorism?

Recently, Kendrick Lamar became engaged to his longtime girlfriend Whitney Alford. In an interview with Power 105.1 Breakfast Club, he noted that he is “loyal to the soil”. And you know what? This is great news to me! In my eyes, there is nothing more important than being loyal to the woman that had your back when your top flight cuisine was sardines andramen noodles.

However, there are many of those that don’t share my adulation for Kendrick Lamar’s situation. Rashida Marie Strober made it perfectly clear that she was thoroughly disgusted with his choice in woman:

well, well, well would you looky here! ANOTHER FAKE CONSCIOUS MUTHER FUKER EXPOSED. I will never support him nor his music with one dime of my money and encourage all dark skinned women not to either! [1]

And she was not done after that, either.

FAKE CONSCIOUS COON ASS RAPPER KENDRICK LAMAR PART 2.

I see calling out and exposing self hating fake black men who speak about consciousness but date and marry NON DARK SKIN WOMEN brought you haters to my page. WELL SHARE THIS MUTHERFUKING POST!!! These type of fake coons are the worst of the worst. DARK SKIN is the essence of true blackness and if these fakers were really and truly conscious they would MARRY DARK SKINNED WOMEN!!! You pissed ?? GOOD!!! [2]

Kendrick Lamar and fiance, Whitney Alford

So, what she is saying is that Kendrick Lamar is a “fake activist” and a “coon” because the woman that he has been dating for years is not dark skinned. I take it that we are going back to School Daze when the sorority girls and the regular girls chirped about “good or bad hair”, right? Or are we going to take it back farther with the “light skinned brother” (he’s not black, btw) preaching his Blackness in The Spook Who Sat By The Door? Are we really going to assume that Kendrick Lamar is being color-struck through his love life? Also, at what point was it our fucking business what he chose to do in his love life to begin with?

Kendrick Lamar and Where Rashida Marie Strober Went Right/Wrong

What Strober does help us realize is that colorism is an issue that needs to be addressed. Colorism is a practice of discrimination by which those with lighter skin are treated more favorably than those with darker skin [3]. With roots in slavery, light skinned slaves received preferential treatment. Meanwhile, the darker skinned slaves caught much more flack. This type of treatment has carried on into our societal actions.

Unconsciously, we have either witnessed or partaken in colorism. All of those “paper bag” tests that many organizations and clubs did back in the day? Colorism. Mentioning “Light Skinned Be Like” jokes? Colorism. Showing preferences for those that aren’t dark skin? Colorism. Thus, colorism has been happening without many of us recognizing it.

However, what Strober fails to realize is that she is speaking out against colorism by using its worst aspects. I understand that she is pro dark skinned women. I love it actually. However, she isn’t going to win any fans by going after a man because his fiancé is light skinned. In all actuality, she sounds like a bitter female misguided by her own insecurities and inner demons.

I’m still wondering if she understands that many Black people come in many different shades and hues. But that is another discussion.

I would’ve thought that Kendrick staying with the same Sista both pre- and post-fame would be something to celebrate, but don’t mind me.

— April (@ReignOfApril) April 5, 2015

And then, there is the obvious part: how does she even know Kendrick Lamar’s intent? This is Lamar’s high school sweetheart. This isn’t some chick he picked up after the Dr. Drechecks and dick riding became overwhelming. This is actually the one female that remained loyal through the thickness of failure and thinning lane of success. In short, Whitney Alford is Kendrick Lamar’s ride or die chick.

Meanwhile, Strober is looking like a misguided hater.

Kendrick Lamar Epilogue

I am glad that people like Strober work hard to eradicate the effects of colorism. However, using “reverse-colorism” isn’t the way to defeat it. At the end of the day, Black is beautifulin all of its different shades. Being dark skinned is not better than being light skinned and vice versa. At the end of the day, the shade of your skin cannot account for the ugliness of one’s soul.

The post Kendrick Lamar Accused of Colorism appeared first on Madness & Reality.

Famous singer Beyoncé Knowles-Carter dropped the eponymous album of her name at midnight in December 2013 without any publicity or marketing and she got rave reviews behind one of the tracks entitled “Flawless.”  It featured a segment from a TED talk by author and poet Chimamanda Adiche entitled “We Should all Be Feminists.”  Beyoncé had already garnered the attention of black feminists, but after a performance in which the words FEMINIST were lit up and her purposefully standing in front of them, that was all they needed.  There were whole panel discussions and news segments about how Beyonce was this kind of feminist, but she was really that kind another would argue.  Meanwhile, Beyoncé hadn’t said much about it but the following:

I’ve always considered myself a feminist, although I was always afraid of that word because people put so much on it.  When honestly, it’s very simple. It’s just a person that believes in equality for men and women. Men and women balance each other out, and we have to get to a point where we are comfortable with appreciating each other….  I have the same empathy for women and the pressures we go through. …I consider myself a humanist.

I remember listening to some of the conversations and reading some of the blogs and other essays on the topic and asking myself did Beyoncé ever really say any of this.  Moreover, do we as cultural critics suddenly ignore her entire body of work and only lift up this particular piece because we like it?  I’ll admit this was partly because I remember having a conversation with my Af-Am History professor my senior year of college and she went ballistic over the lyrics to Destiny Child’s “Cater to You.”  I consciously thought about how I felt “Soldier” the previous year painted an troublesome image of what black women were looking for in a man–and how that man certainly wasn’t me since I was enrolled in college.  As they said “If ya status aint ‘hood we aint checkin’ for ya” complete with grills.  One song glorified a very dominant submissive black woman, and another exalted the image of the bad boy thug, a veritable gangsta boo.

People grow and change, and I certainly acknowledge and welcome that, but I think it’s worth looking at the full narrative arc to understand why people make the decisions they do and how we fit into that.  Part of the job of cultural critics is to be able to make meaning, but, that meaning has to be, well, meaningful.  Perhaps Roxane Gay does help me with the feminist piece as to what it looks like to be a “bad feminist” and perhaps Beyoncé could agree with that.  Patricia Hill Collins also gives a Beyoncé the space to operate in what she calls a “distinctive angle of vision.”  I remember a former student helped me out with that because I was having problems with the chronicling that somehow landed Beyoncé as some borderline radical feminist and I felt as though the whole story of Beyoncé wasn’t being told, namely because we didn’t know why she wrote that song and what was her thinking in choosing that song.  Or all the way to other end of the spectrum that indeed someone of her stature has a team of creative people who envisioned that all of that was just nothing but a good combination to sell albums–and sell she did!

I opened with Beyonce partly because she’s fresh on the mind following her performance at the Grammys, but also because she illuminates what I don’t want to with ascribing things to artists that artists didn’t intend.  Although, perhaps, echoing the opening lines of Kendrick Lamar’s single “The Blacker the Berry” I am setting myself up to be the biggest hypocrite of 2015 as well.

Kendrick Lamar, also known as Kdot, showed up on the scene with hot mixtapes that got his name on the scene preparing him a full national released album that dropped fall of 2012 and he’s been riding that wave for the last two years.  Being the featured artist on a number of tracks, and showing he can play with the big boys when it came to controversy (we all still remember his “Control” lyrics) made sure that we all knew who he was and he made sure that he was here to stay.  What made Kendrick stand out from the rest of the pack is that had a story to tell.  Storytelling, as an art form, in hip hop seems to have veered from the main road and landed us in a musical labyrinth in which the latest wrong turn and dead end has resulted in truffle butter being entered into daily language.  Seriously, don’t Google that phrase unless you want to lose your lunch, just take my word for it.

Kendrick in good kid, m.A.A.d city told a great story, growing up and living in Compton.  It was a “day in the life of” feel to it with the hip hop flare.  I’m sure many people my age who didn’t grow up in southern California, let alone in South Central or in Compton pulled images from movies like Boyz in the Hood, Menace II Society, Friday and Baby Boy to populate the story the Kendrick was telling.  Granted dozens of rappers are out there making mix tapes across the country that are just as lyrically talented at Kdot, but none of them have a national audience–Kendrick does.  Not to mention, Kendrick actually was from the West Coast.  We haven’t been blessed with a major rapper from the West Coast that had the same stylistics of rap that many of us remember from that iconic era of gangsta rap in the 1990s.

In 2013, Kendrick had embroiled himself with “controversies” the worst of which was that he was actually dropping diss tracks and coming for the same artists that had now popularized this hip hop-lite era of music with famous faces like Chris Brown and Drake that get the major play time.  For me, I would rather listen to the real life musical reflections of Kendrick than the contrived lifestyle of music by Drake or a Lil’ Wayne who acts as if he’s completely forgotten his hometown.  Just last year, people were clamoring for more from Kendrick, begging for the next album to drop and just last fall we were all treated to a single simply entitled “i.”  The hook simply repeats the self-affirming mantra “I love myself.”  And from that, it seemed as thought Kendrick entered a rarefied space, one where black men of his status don’t enter often, if at all.  The song “i” is from his next album that’s expected its a contrapuntal discourse between life’s vicissitudes and being able to declare self-love for one’s self.

I was moved to write this after scrolling down my Twitter timeline on a sick day, feeling slightly better and seeing a friend comment something about Kendrick Lamar and realize a new single entitled “The Blacker the Berry” has dropped.  I listened to the intro and heard him come in saying “I’m the biggest hypocrite of 2015″ and I knew we were in for it.

The difference between Kendrick and Beyonce is that the former takes the opportunity to make declarative statements with an effective use of personal pronouns that make it clear where he’s coming from.  We know that Kendrick is being overtly political and we don’t need to hear a corollary from the artist to make it plain for us.  By the end of the song, you see that he’s standing in the tradition of the “conscious” rappers of the past such as KRS-1 and Nas who have never had a problem with assailing this country with each word carrying the power of an assassins bullet landing in the hollow institutions of this society merely pocking the facade, never carrying enough weight to even crack the foundation.

Kendrick throws out what the hypocrisy is in the last couplet when he says

So why did I weep when Trayvon Martin was in the street?
When gang banging make me kill a nigga blacker than me?
Hypocrite!

and we’re left with the same troublesome question of how can the “I” in the song, which now suddenly functions as a “we” once the hypocrisy is revealed, be mad about the death of Trayvon Martin when “black-on-black” crime exists.  Granted, I’m not buying that argument from Kendrick or anyone else for that matter.  To label crime within the African American community as “black-on-black” and not assign that racial language to a crime when the victim and perpetrator is white or Latino allows many to pathologize a whole racial group and that, as we know, is dangerous.

In full disclosure I felt the need to offer that the whole gist of the song can be viewed as problematic, but because of the Kendrick being an unreliable narrator, I think it leaves the door open to say that clearly him being a hypocrite is problematic, but that there’s more complexities and nuances at play than what it seems.  But for me, that’s not what really stands out.  Him standing in that hip hop tradition of being an acerbic wordsmith that delivers the invective against society is one thing, but his ability to determine his own self-love is something that is virtually unheard of in contemporary hip hop.

We live very much in a post- era.  It’s post-modern, post-church, post-Black, post-Trayvon Martin/Mike Brown/Eric Garner, post-OJ Simpson, post-Reagan, post-9/11, post-civil rights… I could go on.  I would even argue that we live in this post-hip hop era at times given what gets played on the radio these days.  Lyrically these songs are worthy of a smart second or third grader, and the music production sounds all the same.  And the image of black men is still overwhelmingly monolithic.  The way that early hip hop cultural critics decried the “video vixens” and the ways black men portrayed black women and the open misogyny within the lyrics and the imagery of those music videos is still very much the same; the ethos of is hasn’t changed.  Just listen to Drake or Chris Brown’s lyrics.  Meanwhile Usher and Trey Songz almost consistently and universally rap about sex.  I would assert that the image of black maleness and black masculinity that is heard on the radio is determined by how many women (bitches and hos) that these men can actually get in the bed.

Then Kendrick comes around and speaks of self affirmation and self love determined by his existential connection to his community and also to himself.

I’m the biggest hypocrite of 2015
Once I finish this, witnesses will convey just what I mean
Been feeling this way since I was 16, came to my senses
You never liked us anyway, fuck your friendship, I meant it
I’m African-American, I’m African
I’m black as the moon, heritage of a small village
Pardon my residence
Came from the bottom of mankind
My hair is nappy, my dick is big, my nose is round and wide
You hate me don’t you?

Yeah, he really said that.  He took the phenotypical stereotypes that have been assigned to being black and the evil history of this country, turned it on its head and owned it.  And I love it.

I don’t think that Kendrick is expecting to change the conversation around black masculinity in this country, let alone around in hip hop, but I think it is worth noting.  I’ve been lately of the opinion that there needs to be a more deliberate reshaping and reforming of black masculinities that doesn’t fall into the trap of heterosexist patriarchal norms and that’s hard to navigate in a world that rewards operating in those norms.  But, I’m also of the opinion that more black men need to be committed to doing that work.  Part of what I believe is that some of disavowal of heterosexist patriarchal norms need to come from black men learning to love themselves–all of themselves.  Not just what they can do,  but actually loving who they be. In the way that we teach our daughters to love their breasts and love their curves and love their hair, I think we need to do a better job of that with our black sons.  And Kendrick does that.  He owns his body image.  He’s a short, nappy haired kid from Compton.  It’s almost that Miss Celie declaration: “I may be black, I may even be ugly, but I’m still here!”

What we do with our black boys is celebrate them.  We throw parties for them, we celebrate when they make the team, older brothers and uncles and fathers celebrate when they lose their virginity, and the celebration aspect has a way of being able to reinforce possibly bad behaviors as well as bad sensibilities toward black women and toward black LGBTQ members.  We love on them, but rarely do we teach them how to love themselves.  We show them how to love on other people, but when we don’t teach our sons how to love themselves, they can’t do it when they enter other relationships.

I just want to be able to say from one black man to another black man that I hear Kendrick, I affirm Kendrick and I love that he was able to express his own self-love.

Black male self-love is a powerful thing.  And yup, I felt a helluva lot blacker after hearing that single, and I’m okay with that.

[Originally posted here]

The post Kendrick Lamar and Black Hip Hop Masculinity appeared first on Madness & Reality.

I mean, I COULD tell her to shut up. But, she would be able to tell me the same thing. So, it is what it is.

What did catch my eye is her disdain for the Kendrick Lamar commentary recently given. Lamar noted something that could easily be applauded or irritating (depending on who you are) during an interview with Billboard:

What happened to [Michael Brown] should’ve never happened. Never,” Lamar told Billboard. “But when we don’t have respect for ourselves, how do we expect them to respect us? It starts from within. Don’t start with just a rally, don’t start from looting — it starts from within. [1]

Azealia Banks, in reply to this statement, went to Twitter (her favorite forum of choice) to voice her disdain:

“When we don’t respect ourselves how can we expect them to respect us” dumbest shit I’ve ever heard a black man say.

— AZEALIA BANKS (@AZEALIABANKS) January 9, 2015

Lol do you know about the generational effects of poverty, racism and discrimination?

— AZEALIA BANKS (@AZEALIABANKS) January 9, 2015

There are things in society that benefit a select few of us. fine…. But don’t put down the rest by saying they don’t respect themselves

— AZEALIA BANKS (@AZEALIABANKS) January 9, 2015

And the last tweet that capitulates what she really is upset about:

HOW DARE YOU open ur face to a white publication and tell them that we don’t respect ourselves…. Speak for your fucking self.

— AZEALIA BANKS (@AZEALIABANKS) January 9, 2015

Me being the person that I am, I posted the article that referenced these tweets on my Facebook page. I was met with a nice mixture of opinions. There were those that readily agreed with what she said. There were those that felt she was either a “Twitter troll”, “racist”, or “not demonstrating the right amount of love in her words”. To note all of this, everyone had a probably point. On some level, everyone was making sense.

And then there is the side that I took all along: Azealia Banks was 100% correct. Let me break down why I feel this way.

Azealia Banks Is Quite Accurate Pt. 1

What Kendrick Lamar was playing is a simple game called “Respectability Politics”. The basis of respectability politics is this: Black people need to start making ourselves more “acceptable” to the modern dominant culture so we won’t face any avoidable hardships. You have heard the term before because I have used it quite often. Plenty of your politicians and a lot of famous Black people use it all the time. Hell, a lot of regular Black people also play these political games of respectability.

From a historical perspective, respectability politics have been a staple of the Black community for hundreds of years. Maurice Dolberry noted the inclusion of respectability politics within the fabric of Black America started during the end of the 19^th century:

Unfortunately, in practice it involved a lot of patronizing behaviors towards “lower-class” Black people.  For instance, one of their major campaigns was to go into impoverished Black communities and hand out pamphlets that “taught” these po’ folks how to “behave” in public places, the value of chastity, and even how to properly bathe themselves. [2]

The range of behaviors has enough stretch to cover the spectrum of “being respectable”. They enclosed everything from “not wearing dirty clothes in public” all the way to “not using vile language in public places”. For some time now, Blacks have been playing the politics game to gain respectability from the “rest of society”.

We have to understand why respectability politics have been played for so long. The reasoning is this: Black culture has been the epitome of everything “wrong”, “barbaric”, and “feral” for eons. You saw it in the Blackface imitations and Stepin Fetchit comedies. You saw it in the self-hating rhetoric used by Sgt. Waters in A Soldier Story. And you see it nowadays as soon as Don Lemon opens his mouth to say something about Black people. Respectability politics exists because our culture is seen as the Black Kool-Aid stain on the White button down shirt of American society.

Azealia Banks is Accurate Pt. 2

Yet, respectability politics has gotten Black people nowhere. Did it ever stop the lynching and killing of our kind by the KKK, police, and the like? Did it stop the destruction of Black Wall Street in Tulsa, Oklahoma? Did it stop the beatings and killings of Blacks (and even whites that supported us) during the Civil Rights movement (see Selma for further understanding)?

None of these things happened because we chose to “respect ourselves before others did”. A lot of the things that happens to us happen DESPITE the fact that we may/may not respect ourselves. And why is there always an inclusion of “we” as if everyone does something? This is the problem right off the bat: Black people are still being seen as the monolithic, low class race that is still good for nothing while spear chucking chicken bones and spitting watermelon seeds as Gucci Mane burrs and Young Thug makes weird noises. Every Black person is not the same; so every Black person cannot subscribe to the same issues and find them to be relevant to their lives.

So, let’s face it: Kendrick Lamar didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about.

Azealia Banks Epilogue

Let me be clear again: this is not an Azealia Banks fan site nor is this a Kendrick Lamar smear campaign. What this can be called is “the truth”. Azealia Banks had every right to say what she said because she was right. We can agree, disagree, and not care. However, history would side with Azealia on this one. In the end, Kendrick Lamar just may need to speak for himself about things or check his Black history facts.

The post Azealia Banks Was Right about Kendrick Lamar appeared first on Madness & Reality.