Trigger Fingers Turn to Twitter Fingers
Hip-hop’s beef market is oversaturated with Tweets, ‘Grams, and Snaps
Over consecutive nights in mid-September, Kid Cudi and The Game started two unrelated rap feuds, seemingly for no apparent reason. Each feud began targeting specific rappers, with Cudi taking shots at Kanye and Drake, while The Game went after Meek Mill.
A month and a half later, every affiliated rapper and their mother have put in their two cents, creating a clusterfuck in which chatter from a cast of characters has overshadowed the initial intention of both feuds—if there ever was one.
Kid Cudi’s initial tweet—an attempt to discredit Drake and Kanye’s artistry and penmanship—has snowballed into a soap opera, centered around mental illness. It also inspired an assessment of Drake’s character, following his subsequent diss, which some say portrays a lack of awareness in regards to the seriousness of mental illness.
On the other hand, The Game’s call-out of Meek Mill, apparently rooted in an incident involving a third party’s robbery — Sean Kingston — has ignited a social media shitstorm. Both rappers traded barbs on Instagram, perceived as an attempt to drive up sales for their forthcoming projects — both of which have since been released.
On the surface, beefs like these seem petty, especially when timed around album release dates. Additionally, inviting the audience and other artists into the fray via social media has further discredited the role that rap battles once played in determining who was the superior MC.
Past hip-hop feuds — Ice Cube v. NWA, Pac v. BIG, Nas v. Jay — came from a place of genuine loathing, intentionally designed to weaken the opposition’s position amongst the art form’s elite.
While Cudi and Game may have had the same intention, it’s too easy to question their credibility. They both are products of an era of oversaturated publicity, one in which rappers strengthen their social pull by way of extraneous beefs.
Social media, rather than modern rappers, may be at fault. These platforms grant celebrities the power to generate spontaneous feuds in mere seconds. Therein lies the problem. Current rap beefs peak on social media, fizzling out by the time a diss song is recorded, if it even makes it that far.
Last year Drake showcased the ability to balance social media standing with the adequate timing of diss tracks, thereby “winning” his feud with Meek Mill. But he has become the exception, as rapper’s ability to ignite conflict with one Tweet, ‘Gram, or Snap has over-saturated hip-hop’s beef market.
Just this past week, up-and-comer, Lil Uzi Vert, uninvitingly decided to call out Soulja Boy, for being a “bitch — that he isn’t scared of.” What? Where did he gain the confidence to make such a ridiculous claim? From behind the safe confines of a social media status update window. The instant gratification stemming from likes, views, and retweets, has justified the fabricated claims that have become the root of modern rap beefs.
Imagine if social media was around during the legendary beefs of hip-hop’s golden era of the late 80s / early 90s. Instead of classic diss tracks, we would have Tweets, Instagram posts, and Snaps to look back on. That is, if they hadn’t been deleted.
Would Ice Cube have taken to Twitter, in an effort to call out N.W.A and Jerry Heller, thereby draining all of the emotion that went into making “No Vaseline” one of the best diss tracks of all time?
After claiming Biggie orchestrated the 1994 ambush that led to 2Pac being shot five times, would ‘Pac have Instagrammed a picture of him in the hospital, with the caption, “Five shots couldn’t drop me, I took it and smiled,” hence, spoiling one of the best lines on his diss song “Hit Em Up?”
Would Biggie have denied involvement, by way of Tweeting his prayers for ‘Pac, leading to him stopping the release of the alleged, unrelated track, “Who Shot Ya?”
Would the infamous 1995 Source Awards — which single-handedly poured gasoline on the already fierce East Coast/West Coast rivalry — have been as captivating? We might’ve gotten Suge’s infamous rant, “If you don’t want a producer all up in your videos… come to Death Row,” by way of a DJ Khaled-esque Snapchat, instead of his on-stage proclamation, which happened in front of an emotionally hyped, New York City crowd.
Would the 2001 rivalry between Jay-Z and Nas — directly increasing the anticipation for their respective albums — have peaked on social media, before they recorded the greatest initial diss (“The Takeover”) and subsequent response (“Ether”) of all time? Ironically, the title of Nas’ response became slang for ruthlessly dissing another person, a la “to ether” someone. Naturally, it would’ve gotten overplayed on social media — by way of memes, captions, and hashtags.
Maybe I’m too nostalgic. Maybe the presence of social media would’ve made the aforementioned beefs more entertaining. That’s arguable. What isn’t arguable is that social media, due to its instantaneous nature, would’ve been the go-to platform for beginning, altering, and ending feuds.
The use of social media, as represented by our most recent feuds, would’ve soaked up the initial emotion that went into making the greatest hip-hop diss tracks of all time. Even worse, it would’ve taken away the element of surprise, granted by the long months between responses, compared to the incessant back-and-forth beefers now exhibit on a minute-by-minute basis. What’s a dis track when you can take shots every second on your phone?
In hindsight, most intriguing is to wonder if Drake’s proclamation on “Back to Back” would’ve reigned true. No one can say for sure, but I do know the OG’s trigger fingers wouldn’t have succumbed to Twitter fingers so easily.
Tragically the most infamous hip-hop beef ended in the deaths of the two greatest rappers of all time. With that said, N.W.A, 2Pac, Biggie, Nas, and Jay-Z didn’t need to disguise their genuine street life mentality behind a falsified social media persona — they lived it.
2Pac, embodying his self-proclaimed “Thug Life” disposition, said it best: “I’m not a killa, but don’t push me…”
