The Best and Worst of Rap This Week: Why Lil Baby’s Protest Song Should Not Be a Surprise and More

Pitchfork’s weekly rap column covers songs, mixtapes, albums, Instagram freestyles, memes, dances, weird tweets, fashion trends—and anything else that catches our attention in the world of hip-hop.

Lil Baby has been this good

Lil Baby is one of the very best rappers working right now. Listen to his latest album, My Turn, and you’ll find that he can rap as effectively about heartbreak and pain as he can about the shine of the diamonds he copped from jeweler Elliot Eliantte. It’s part of what has made him rise to the top of Atlanta’s competitive rap scene over the past few years.

In response to the killings of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor, and the protests that followed, Lil Baby released “The Bigger Picture” late last week. The song gets Lil Baby’s message about the devastating effects of police brutality across without abandoning his signature catchiness—something I wasn’t surprised by, because some of his best songs are the ones with the most depth (see: “Emotionally Scarred”). So the subsequent outpouring of praise for Lil Baby on social media felt patronizing, as if he didn’t deserve recognition until he dropped a song that was politically conscious. “Is he now the best rapper alive?!” asked hip-hop Instagram page SayCheeseTV. “Lil Baby going legend right in front of our eyes,” exclaimed Meek Mill.

But thoughtfulness has always been a part of Lil Baby’s appeal. Did radio-ready rhythms and Atlanta production perfect for booming out of the strip club’s sound system make him previously unworthy of praise? It’s an obstacle that hip-hop in the South and Midwest has been attempting to overcome for approximately forever, with rappers like Chief Keef, Young Thug, and Gucci Mane being excluded from rap’s upper echelon because they didn’t fit the traditional mold. Lil Baby will never fit that mold either, but he deserves to be a part of the conversation—and he always has.

Noname puts J. Cole in timeout

J. Cole could have avoided all this. He could have just relaxed at his crib, catching up on television or working on his jumper in the backyard. But he couldn’t help himself with this week’s “Snow on tha Bluff,” a passive-aggressive track aimed at a smart and outspoken woman who sure seemed to have a lot in common with Noname. And now he gets his wish to be gently reprimanded like a child.

On the Madlib-produced “Song 33,” Noname sounds like she’s agitated that she even has to waste any of her mental capacity thinking about Cole. She makes it clear that she has bigger things to worry about than a grown adult’s ego, such as: the murders of Black trans women, the killing of Black Lives Matter activist Oluwatoyin Salau, and abolishing the police. “When George begging for his mother saying he couldn’t breathe, you thought to write about me?” she raps, like a disappointed parent shaking their head in disgust. It’s a deserved drag that teaches one of the biggest rappers of his generation a timeless lesson: Get over yourself.

Breaking down the needle drops in Pete Davidson’s The King of Staten Island

Kid Cudi: “Just What I Am”

Things white kids from New York’s five boroughs refuse to let go: the 2009 Yankees, Sopranos quotes, and Kid Cudi. So, of course, The King of Staten Island opens with Pete Davidson’s quasi-autobiographical character spiraling while Cudi’s “Just What I Am” blares from his car radio. It’s time to move on.

Fivio Foreign: “Big Drip”

In the movie, Pete Davidson works at Denino’s, a real-life, old-time Staten Island pizzeria that makes one of New York’s best pies. After his shift ends you can hear Fivio Foreign’s “Big Drip” playing from the restaurant’s sound system, and let me just say: I live 10 minutes away from Denino’s, and that would never actually happen. I’m sure the elderly Italian men that hang out by the bar would get up and leave if anything other than Frank Sinatra was selected.

Fabolous: “You Be Killin Em’”

I’m certain when Fabolous made this record he never thought it would be used in a romantic montage between Marisa Tomei and Bill Burr.

Lil Wayne: “Uproar”

Pete Davidson shows up to a party with college freshmen and they’re listening to a Lil Wayne and Swizz Beatz record??? Unforgivable.

Kid Cudi: “Pursuit of Happiness”

The King of Staten Island not only begins with a Kid Cudi song, but ends with one, too. This time it’s to indicate that Pete has found some happiness and maturity. But let’s be real, Pete, it’s been more than a decade since Man on the Moon, let it go!

The emergence of 42 Dugg

If there’s anything we can all agree on it’s that one of the best rap songs of the year is Lil Baby and 42 Dugg’s “We Paid.” From Dugg’s opening whistle—a signature sound that also kicks off nearly every song on his 2020 mixtape Young and Turnt Vol. 2—the Detroit rapper is off to the races. “’Fore I go broke like Joc/Fuck with a dog like Vick,” he raps, bars that are already turning into a meme on social media (and Yung Joc hates them.) It’s a special song, but it’s no accident. Across Dugg’s pair of Young and Turnt mixtapes he has a handful of records ready to be showered with similar love. My personal favorite is “It Gets Deeper,” a soulful, funky, and lyrical track, like all the best Detroit rap should be. With the deluxe edition of Young and Turnt Vol. 2 due today, more eyes will be on the Detroit rapper and the scene he represents. You better get used to that whistle.

Duwap Kaine: “She Call My Phone”

Duwap Kaine drops music erratically. Take “Torch,” an apparently older song he released last week, in which he says, “2018 is my year.” But then the 18-year-old Georgia rapper quickly followed up that ancient single with his second brand new mixtape of the year, Underdog II (a sequel to a 2018 tape). “She Call My Phone” is the track I keep going back to. Duwap raps about his favorite things—smoking gas, breaking hearts, and spending money on his neck—on a melody that sounds like it should be playing in the background of a The Twilight Zone episode about Martians. Thankfully, we didn’t have to wait years for this one.

Congrats to the director of Eminem’s “Godzilla” video

YXNG K.A: “Unfinished Business” [ft. Lil Muk]

In New York, J.I. the Prince of NY and Lil Tjay have carried the torch for effortlessly melodic rap, and now Philly is being taken over by a new wave of teenage songbirds. Leading the charge are YXNG K.A and Lil Muk, who have respectively dropped two of Philly’s best recent rap songs: “Not the Same” and “Best for You.” The two join forces on “Unfinished Business,” which surely would have soundtracked the final month of the city’s high schools if they weren’t shut down. Though the duo’s sweet melodies would make you think they’re wailing a melancholy love song, they both paint a picture of Philly street life over a bright acoustic guitar beat: “Lately I been feelin’ empty/Hope a nigga don’t tempt me,” K.A. croons. It’s really no different than the message being delivered by SimXSantana and the more traditional, rap-focused side of Philly, YXNG K.A and Lil Muk just happen to sing it.

The best four things to happen in Detroit rap this week, ranked

4: Babyface Ray and DaeMoney’s uncle-and-nephew dynamic.

3: Mo Money refines her melody with “Midnight” as she continues to be a breath of fresh air for a scene that’s been male-dominated for too long.

2: We can always count on Kasher Quon for timely bars. “Because of this coronavirus shit I ain’t gettin’ booked no more!” he emphasizes on “Rerock.” Whoever thought Kasher’s scamming gimmick would get old, I am sorry to report that you were wrong.

1: BandGang Lonnie Bands’ verse (and air guitar) on “Bracking”:

$ilkMoney: Attack of the Future Shocked, Flesh Covered, Meatbags of the 85

Nearly four years ago, as a part of the Virginia-based crew Divine Council, $ilkMoney was rapping alongside André 3000. Since then, Divine Council broke up, which seemed like a bad decision for $ilkMoney at first. But with an ability to straight up spit and a tight ear for production, the rapper recently put out his best record to date. Executive produced by Kahlil Blu, whose beats feel warmer than freshly baked bread, Attack of the Future Shocked, Flesh Covered, Meatbags of the 85 finds $ilkMoney rapping his ass off, and every bar is delivered like he’s at a breaking point: “Fuck being woke, bitch I’m just pissed off!” If nothing else, embrace the song titles: “White People Don’t Clean Their Chicken,” “I Wanna Be the Superbug When I Grow Up,” “Biscuits and Mouse Eggs, I Wanna Marry You.”

Rx Papi and Rx Nephew: “I Forgot Where I Was Goin”

In the last week alone, more than 10 songs have appeared on prolific Bronx rapper Rx Papi’s YouTube page. “I Forgot Where I Was Goin” was dropped days ago, and I’m sure it’ll never get a music video or a mention on Instagram. Actually, he’s probably already forgotten it even exists—but I haven’t. On a smooth beat that’ll make you groove like Delroy Lindo, Rx Papi effortlessly delivers Lil B-style, half-cooked one-liners (Post Malone is referenced more than 10 times on the song). Rx Nephew eventually comes in with a verse that probably should have been left on the cutting room floor, but Rx Papi is not one for editing, and for that I’m grateful.

Originally Appeared on Pitchfork