42 Dugg is a massively under-discussed rap artist. Hip-hop in general is precariously situated as being the most lucrative and popular form of contemporary American music, while simultaneously constantly facing scrutiny and ostracism from white institutions and sources of power. In some ways, this essay will seek to give 42 Dugg’s mixtape, Free Dem Boyz, the analysis it deserves, given that a variety of social factors seem to have dampened the cultural response to the project at the time it was released. The album is an incredibly difficult and intriguing project, primarily for the reasons that it is at once a deeply vulnerable portrayal of a man in crisis, and a startlingly misogynistic denouncement of romantic relationships with women. In fact, these two elements of the album increasingly seem to go hand in hand, one impossible without the other. 42 Dugg’s work should be analyzed and given serious thought, precisely because it does not offer easy answers or leave the listener with a comfortable entertainment experience. The relationships between male friends, expressions of vulnerability, and misogyny in hip-hop are all intricately intertwined themes in Free Dem Boyz, wherein 42 Dugg makes a powerful case for his own humanity despite the ugliness to which he so often admits. This essay will examine the theme of homosociality in 42 Dugg’s music, which at once describes the value of meaningful friendships between men, but is also characterized by a large degree of misogyny.
42 Dugg is a Detroit rapper who rose to national prominence in 2020. Born Dion Marquis Hayes, Dugg grew up on the East Side of Detroit and joined a criminal gang at a young age. He was first arrested at age 14 and was again arrested a year later, leading to a six-year prison sentence. During the years that many kids go to high school, apply for universities, and move into college dorms for the first time, Dugg was struggling to survive in an adult prison. Part of the narrative repeated by Dugg in interviews is that his skill in rapping was born out of multiple periods in solitary confinement while serving in prison. During one of these instances, he began to practice rapping as a way of coping with the psychological effects of solitary confinement as well as a way to prepare a life for himself once he was set free.
42 Dugg is now most well known for rapping about topics related to gang culture and for his drawling vocal style. After several mixtapes released between 2018 and 2020, Dugg released his commercial mixtape, Free Dem Boyz, on May 21st, 2021. The project was clearly more conceptually driven than his previous mixtapes as everything from the album title, to the cover art, to many of the song titles, seemed to centrally focus on one consistent topic; the incarceration of Dugg’s friends and the lengths to which he will go to bring them back home. Countless times on the album, Dugg frames his rapping career as a way to bring attention to the plight of his incarcerated friends and as a financial endeavor to provide them with bail money. The intensity with which Dugg raps about his friends on this album will serve as this essay’s main site of analysis.
In sociology, “homosociality” simply refers to platonic relationships held by members of the same sex. The concept is however complicated by writer Eve Sedgewick, who suggests that male kinship systems contain a particular form of “obligatory heterosexuality” which often manifests homophobia and misogyny (Sedgewick, 3). She goes on to describe how this is particular to male friendships rather than female ones, as the spectrum of female-female relationships is far more characterized by a unity towards the interests of all women, whereas platonic relationships between men are typically seen as diametrically opposed to other forms of male-male relationships (2). Herein are two operative aspects of the term “homosociality,” as often used to describe works of literature and as I will relate to 42 Dugg’s music; opposition to an out-group (in Dugg’s case this is women), and a quality of intensity not seen in other relationships.
Sedgewick posits the erotic triangle as an essential motif when analyzing homosocial relationships in literature. The erotic triangle is essentially the stage upon which bonds are formed and broken, and the site at which rivalries occur. These rivalries often take center stage in many narratives as Sedgewick notes that, “…in any erotic rivalry, the bond that links the two rivals is as intense and potent as the bond that links either the rivals to the beloved…” (21). This can often take a more extreme form, as the contest between men over the same woman often forms the main narrative thrust of a novel, whereas each man’s direct relationship to that woman receives less narrative attention. When this occurs, the woman is often objectified as something to be won, and as a result, the relationship between the men becomes the primary subject of discourse and interest.
Homosocial structures are commonly depicted in American literature as well as in rap music. While many commentators have noted the ways in which literary authors like Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Cormac McCarthy have focused their narratives on platonic male-male relationships at the expense of romantic male-female ones, so too does rap music have a proclivity toward glamorizing male friendships in the form of gang affiliations as well as mentor-mentee relationships, while simultaneously treating women as sexual objects. 42 Dugg is notable as not only a continuation of this thematic legacy, but in many ways, a heightened form of it. The arguably unmatched intensity with which Dugg professes his love for his male friends is mirrored by the heightened use of overly dehumanizing lyrics describing his relationships with women (“All that fuckin’, I don’t do no kissin’”).
Throughout Free Dem Boyz, Dugg raps consistently about his sexual relationships with women in a way that is often degrading and clearly misogynistic, but it is only towards the very end of the album that a clear erotic triangle begins to take shape and he begins to articulate the ways in which he sees his romantic endeavors as intrinsically tied to his relationships and rivalries with other men. On It Get Deeper, Pt. 2, Dugg links the betrayal he feels to both the actions of men and women, rapping, “Never bite that hand that feeds you, bro, n**** be greedy — Never felt what it was like to be loved, bitches be cheating.” While the song touches on his difficulties with forming healthy relationships with women, the lyrics are overwhelmingly concerned with Dugg’s betrayal at the hands of other men. Within the narrative of the song, Dugg’s commitment to continue supporting his true friends and to focus on his own career seem like reasonable reactions to feelings of betrayal, but simultaneously illustrate him as alienated and lonely.
This dynamic is further constructed directly and succinctly on the final track of the album, Free Me. In fact, the very final lines spoken on the entire album are thus, “Tell her let me make her love me, I hate the n**** she fuckin’.” Dugg’s articulation of a classic love triangle here is notable for being so transparent in that, even one of Dugg’s most direct pleas to be loved, is immediately contextualized as truly concerning his relationship/rivalry with another man. In the course of arriving at this final point of emphasis, Dugg ends up suggesting that the central relationships in his life can only ever be with other heterosexual men. In doing so, this line functionally serves as a resignation, an indicator of tragedy for the hope of a healthy romance. It is also interesting that the bar coupled with this final line directly points to the title of the song and may suggest that it is not incarceration that Dugg yearns to be freed from, but maybe the tragedy of failed romances expressed in the following line.
Always yellin’, “Free mine,” never, “Free me,” (They need me)
Tell her let me make her love me, I hate the n**** she fuckin’
This oddly abrupt end to the album may catch listeners off guard as the petty rivalry over a woman seems at first to be somewhat unrelated to the central theme of the album as expressed in its mantra and title. However, the pain 42 Dugg feels as someone who is constantly working to help and advocate on the behalf of his friends but who feels that this level of support is not being reciprocated, here seems intimately tied to the predicament with women he often finds himself in. The support he’s asking for may concern the fact that, having felt betrayed so frequently, he finds it difficult to trust women in general, and finds more comfort in male-male relationships despite the fact that these cannot yield romantic fulfillment for him. This ending to the album, and the simmering theme throughout, illustrates an internalized misogyny in Dugg, but the framing of the final song as an effective call for help, may point listeners to a way to empathize with Dugg and support him as he seeks healthier relationships in the future.
The prevalence of homosociality in 42 Dugg’s music goes far beyond the literal depiction of an erotic triangle and is most evident in both the intensity and ambiguous word choice Dugg deploys when rapping about his relationships with men. In Between Men, Sedgewick uses the example of Shakespeare’s sonnets to illustrate how the symmetrical application of emotional language to both a woman character and the male character, as well as the clarity with which Shakespeare’s syntactical structure differentiates between the male and female positions in the triangle, indicates the ways in which Shakespeare associates positive qualities with male objects of affection and negative qualities with the female (29).
In a similar way, we can look at the word choices and intensities of 42 Dugg’s music as being charitable towards men, to such a degree that the true object of Dugg’s affection becomes obscured at times. Intro, Alone, Free Merey, and Free Skeet are among the songs on which Dugg most clearly expresses strong emotions of love and longing for the men in his life. Alone, in particular, is an exceptionally powerful song on which Dugg’s emotional vulnerability is put on full display for his listeners. In some cases, these pronouncements of love and yearning are made without directly correlated gender signifiers, which opens up the possibility of interpreting these lines as being gender non-dependent. The chorus to Alone is particularly striking in this regard.
And you was supposed to hold me down
I wish I could see your smile
All that other shit don’t mean nothin’
I came from hustlin’
And I still remember all the advice you ever gave me
How the fuck you goin’ down when I was eighteen?
Wrong, you was wrong about a lot of shit, I’m on my own
I’m on my own, but I’ll never quit, I’m doin’ good
Double up and bring it to the hood, this shit for us
Tell me, how the fuck is it for us if I’m alone?
Taken out of context, lines such as “I wish I could see your smile” could be interpreted as conveying a romantic longing and loss. However, clarifying gender signifiers do appear later in the chorus, wherein the relationship Dugg is rapping about is described as a mentor-mentee relationship and the allusions to gang violence further point to the object of Dugg’s yearning in this verse as being a male. Although the slight ambiguity at the beginning of the chorus is swiftly clarified, the intensity of the heartbreak is no less apparent and is actually bolstered by the ambiguity used at the chorus’s start. Dugg cares about his deceased friend so dearly, that he intentionally uses romantic language in order to more deeply evoke a sense of loss. The rest of the chorus capitalizes on this intensity as Dugg describes his grief as being confused, at times resentful, and ultimately alienating. In this expertly crafted chorus, Dugg has found a way to contextualize these feelings of resentment and confusion as grief by virtue of the romantic language initially employed.
A focus on grief and longing for lost friends has been a quintessential theme of hip-hop and its lyricists over the decades. However, the intensity and constancy with which Dugg discusses his vulnerabilities, as well as borderline confessions of love for his friends, stands in contrast to another legacy of rap, which is to uphold the perception of masculinity at all costs. In his article Contemporary Sorrow Songs, Joseph Winters describes how expressions of vulnerability in hip-hop are a theme that must first permeate a rapper’s typical image “…of being impervious and invincible (an image that exemplifies the performance of hypermasculinity…)” (Winters, 14). Despite this need to overcome patriarchal expectations, Winters argues that expressions of vulnerability in hip-hop are the product of a continuous legacy in African American music beginning with 19th-century sorrow songs in which enslaved African Americans discussed the pain and suffering of chattel slavery. Citing W.E.B. Dubois, he describes these lamentations as inversely describing a hope for African Americans’ future as, “The sorrow songs compel the listener (and performer) to make a passage through the moans and cries…” towards a better, more equal world (11). In this sense, vulnerability becomes an essential tool in the political process of advocating for change.
It is then perfectly understandable but still somewhat remarkable that Dugg is able to so resolutely describe his emotions in such a way that may have the potential to undermine his authenticity and perceived masculinity in the eyes of his listeners and peers. When he raps on Free Merey, “As long as you real, we gon’ always be together,” with only the song’s title as initial gendered context, Dugg risks disqualifying himself as appropriately masculine within the normatively patriarchal and homophobic culture of hip-hop. This risk is further amplified by the directness and constancy with which Dugg describes his yearning in often repeated and simple lines such as “RIP Rece, you the one I see in all us” and “I miss Lou, I still miss Rece.” The question here becomes, “So how does 42 Dugg get away with being so vulnerable on his songs and yet never seeming to actually risk accusations of disqualifying femininity and/or queerness in the eyes of rap fans?”
Before answering that question, it is worth also looking at 42 Dugg’s position in a stratified and diverse music industry. Dugg is not often included in conversations and commentary regarding the most skilled lyricists in the industry or the most impactful social advocates. Whereas figures like Kendrick Lamar, Lupe Fiasco, and J. Cole are often lauded for their social consciousness, abstract storytelling, and mastery over language, 42 Dugg’s work is more often included in discussions of “drill music” and the harm associated with the genre label. Admittedly, Dugg does engage in many of the harmful thematic tropes of drill music including glamorizing gang culture, boasting about real life murders, and aggravating beefs. It is these proclivities that may keep him out of the conversation regarding the most critically acclaimed rap artists, but it is also these very tropes that may work to nullify any perception of romantic interest in the men he raps about so passionately.
By glamorizing violence, Dugg situates himself as being inarguably masculine in the eyes of rap audiences. This tends to go hand in hand with the degradation of members of an out-group, which as previously stated, includes women on Dugg’s songs. This, therefore, creates a complicated dynamic in which one of the rappers most able to be authentically, powerfully, and consistently vulnerable can only do so after first establishing a destructive violent persona and only when balanced out with acute levels of misogyny. Dugg’s character as portrayed on Free Dem Boyz, is essentially too thorny and complicated for him to be applauded by mass audiences and critics, but it is precisely this thorniness that makes him a potentially more interesting subject for analysis, measured appreciation, and the recipient of radical empathy given his vulnerability, difficult childhood, and for the very fact that he pleads for it.
This act of pleading is built into the album as another main theme. As discussed, on Free Me, Dugg self-consciously articulates his need to be saved from his own inability to form healthy relationships with women. The very title of the song is a plea for empathy and a recognition of human dignity that can be seen elsewhere on the album as well. Two songs on the album contain the word “Please” in their titles. The first song, Please, is slightly opaque in the way it uses the word to describe Dugg’s state of mind. In the song, Dugg raps on a variety of topics in a more scattershot manner than in some of his other, more focused songs. He continues to link his rivals to his romantic partners (“Opps wanna score so bad, they’ll prolly stretch my bitch”), repeats the album’s mantra, “Free dem boys,” and mostly discusses the wealth he’s accumulated from drug dealing and the different ways he uses that wealth to bailout his incarcerated friends and to offer gifts to his romantic partner.
Although initially difficult to parse, the concept of pleading returns on the album with the more straightforward, Judge Please. Within the chorus, we can see one of the most powerful instances of Dugg admitting that he needs help, even if the person to whom he’s pleading may ultimately be interested only in punishing him.
Judge, please help me with my freedom
Show me how to eat without drugs ’cause I’m fiendin’
Cuz, please help me with my life
I done tried weed, n****, I done tried pints
The alienation so consistently described throughout the album finally reaches a breaking point here, as Dugg recognizes that his ability to address his issues with the criminal justice system and his drug dependency may require the assistance of others. By articulating such a clear admission that he needs help, Dugg not only strives to remind the listener of his humanity, but also describes a potentially hopeful outcome to the predicaments of his entrapment in the criminal justice system and his issues with drugs. In other words, if only a few other people could help him to the extent that he strives to help his friends, he may find peace and freedom in his own life.
This theme of pleading ultimately leads to another sorrowful tragedy at the album’s end. In the penultimate track, Free Skeet, Dugg delivers one of the most complicated and politically difficult choruses on the album, on which the character of the Judge returns.
Hustlin’, hustlin’, still hold it down for my brother, brother
Two-tone AP, custom made, four Cubans on
I’m a fuckin’ slave, you know black lives
N****, get baptized, Doggy them cap signs
How you know my judge was a n****?
How you gon’ judge another n*****?
Fuck it, just flood us with bitches
Dugg starts with typical words of dedication to his friends but transitions into lyrics in which he links the jewelry chains around his neck to the legacy of slavery in the United States, quickly creating a historical continuum to the present day with a reference to the Black Lives Matter movement. After what appears to be a taunt towards those who Dugg perceives to be faking their gang affiliations, he reveals that his judge, potentially in the case that sentenced him to six years in prison, was also African American. Dugg expresses internal confusion and feelings of betrayal at that fact, before ultimately resigning himself to a state of hedonism in which he has given up trying to answer these questions. The chorus is deeply affecting given the way Dugg describes his confusion that, within a white supremacist system, other African Americans appear complicit in the mass incarceration of people who share their heritage and historical experience. To some, this may undermine the validity of the claim that the United States’s judicial system is in fact white supremacist, as clearly the system can and does reward some members of the African American community with positions of power. However, once those individuals have attained that power, some may seem unmotivated, and are more often unable to address the systemic issues that continue harming others in their own racial group.
Dugg’s resigning, “Fuck it, just flood us with bitches” further illuminates this ultimate tragedy at the end of the album. Once again, the primary conflict is taking place between two men, Dugg and his judge, while the role of the woman is diminished to that of an object to be won, and in this case, simply a distraction from the pain of the world. The implications here are not meant to be applauded for how true they are. However, I do find this tragic ending insightful in the way it may speak to the intensity of 42 Dugg’s relationships with other men, the absolute hatred he expresses for his enemies, and the degree to which he degrades women in his music as related functions of the intersection between patriarchy and systemic racism. No matter how much Dugg may lament on the album that, “the only love I ever felt was for my mama,” the pressure of conforming to the rules of a patriarchal society does not allow Dugg to be vulnerable with other women. This vulnerability is reserved for and can only be expressed towards men who have suffered immeasurable harm at the hands of a two-tiered justice system and debilitating economic and social disempowerment.
However, the fact that Dugg so clearly ties his disdain for women to societally enforced rivalries with other men, whether rival gang members or his judge, points to a self-awareness in Dugg and therefore, a hope. As Winters quotes Du Bois, “…the ‘longing for a truer world’ must traverse the sorrow that has accumulated in black communities. Hope… must be inflected and even constrained by our attunement to ongoing modes of suffering and injustice” (11). Although Dugg may not state, “Misogyny is itself the prison I need help escaping from,” the simple depiction of that misogyny and its explicit tethering to systemic forms of racism exerted upon Dugg, can lead a listener to that determination. If a healthy relationship as embodied in the role of Dugg’s mother is what he truly desires on this album, then it is no wonder that the last line on the entire project speaks directly to his struggle to attain such a relationship. Similarly, given the role of systemic racism and the disempowerment of African Americans as the origins of gang violence in the United States, it is also no wonder that Dugg’s inability to attain this idyllic romance is so intricately tied to his relationship with a rival.
For its expressions of male-vulnerability, Free Dem Boyz, is an exceptionally under-appreciated rap mixtape. It is an infinitely complicated and difficult work that not only discusses many issues facing the African American community, but also presents these issues in a way that is rife with contradictions, expressions of confusion, and problematic language. In a sense, despite the many reasons why the depth of emotion contained in Dugg’s lyrics may be applauded as a refreshing example of male vulnerability, the intensity of these homosocial relationships is itself its own sorrow, given that the strong ties Dugg has formed with his friends seem to have been born out of trauma and loss. It is within this social context that empathy is being pled for, warts and all so to speak. 42 Dugg is showing us the latitude of his humanity, using his vulnerability to point listeners towards his own complexity as an individual. This portrait of Dugg demands the attention that listeners often reserve for acts that do less to challenge our empathy.
Works Cited
42 Dugg. (2021). Free Dem Boys. 4PF; Collective Music Group; Interscope.
Sedgwick, Eve Kosofsky. Between Men: English Literature and Male Homosocial Desire. Columbia University Press, 2016.
Winters, Joseph. “Contemporary Sorrow Songs: Traces of Mourning, Lament, and Vulnerability in Hip Hop.” African American Review, vol. 46, no. 1, 2013, pp. 9–20., https://doi.org/10.1353/afa.2013.0012.
