The healing power of sassy black women in hip-hop
Rappers like Megan Thee Stallion, Trina, and Lil’ Kim are centering and empowering Black women in a world that often mistakes us for supporting characters.
Written by Taryn Finley
August 2, 2023
When I was 8 years old, I dreamed of growing up and becoming a rapper. The idea of coming out of my shy shell and popping the biggest shit imaginable fueled me.
I started writing my first rhyming book, Steno Notepad, because it was the first blank notebook I found in my mother’s computer lab. Using a glittery gel pen, I decorated the inside with lyrics about the complexities of eighth grade, bending my straight self, and thinking about the future, like rappers do, about all the popularity and money I had. I told some lies that I thought were true. During breaks, I would sometimes do mini-performances for my friends and the boys I liked. It was a way of using my voice that I was usually shy about. But mostly, I kept the words in a rhyming book because it felt like a diary.
“Remy Ma redefined ‘conceit’ from a character flaw to something that boosts self-esteem. When Trina said she was a ‘five-star bitch,’ it became an affirmation for the rest of us. .Rap beef aside, when Nicki Minaj’s “Did” comes on, all my worries go out the window when “It on ‘Em” or Cardi B’s “Bodak Yellow” comes on. , you start to want the same for the people you don’t like. ”
As a child with severe anxiety and people-pleasing tendencies, self-confidence was often difficult for me. It got even worse when they entered middle school, where bullying became more frequent and peer pressure became more apparent. For me, the solution to that problem was to eliminate the overconfidence and cockiness that hip-hop requires. I still struggle with impostor syndrome and overcome heartbreak.
Women in rap changed my mindset about what I was capable of and helped me break down the mental barriers that came with the obstacles I faced early on. When I heard Eve being introduced as “that girl” in the chorus, I also took on the personality of “that girl.” When Lil’ Kim declares, “I’m rich, stay this bitch,” on her song “Queen Bitch,” the mere $22.37 in her piggy bank felt like a lot of money. Remy Ma redefined “conceit” from a character flaw to something that boosts self-esteem. When Trina said she was a “five-star bitch,” it was a positive word for all of us. Rap beef aside, when Nicki Minaj’s “Did It On ‘Em” or Cardi B’s “Bodak Yellow” comes on, all insecurities go out the window, and so do the haters. I start thinking about what I want to become.
And when Megan Thee Stallion says she’s “running around the house like Tomb Raider,” that’s a declaration of taking up space.
These may not be literal translations of the lyrics, but like any art, music is subjective. Hip hop inspires an inherent confidence that governs your movements and can sometimes feel like a spiritual practice. Singing Crime Mob’s “Stilettos” or Latto’s “Put It On The Floor” in the car with my daughters is just the therapy I need after a long week to release the last of my nerves.
The parental advisory label is crap and every black girl and woman should listen to female rappers talk shit. Okay, maybe it’s an edited version for kids, but hear me out.
Being a sassy black woman is the complete opposite of what society expects of us. We are expected to be overly nurturing, to take care of others other than ourselves, and to be okay with it. While we are told that our beauty is not up to par, our bodies and features are constantly fetishized and imitated. Our voices are policed to the point where we are shamed and shunned for daring to speak out. And we are conditioned to see our roles as serving men to the point of being in conflict with each other.
Men have used rap to over-sexualize and belittle Black women to this day, so no part of the genre will make it any better. Pioneering women like Queen Latifah asked, “Who do you call a bitch?” UNITY challenges the role that men have played in subjugating us. Foxy Brown and Lil’ Kim helped reclaim women’s sexual agency in rap, using wordplay and bravado better than their male counterparts. That legacy continues with Cardi B and Meg’s “WAP,” Laura Brooke’s “Don’t Play With It,” and Sexy Red’s “Pound Town.”
But to this day, behind every confident female rapper is a group of unfortunate men who complain about what women rap about. Lest we forget, a while ago white people’s complaints about gangsta rap were reported to the FBI. monitoring wrapper It joins various states and networks in banning certain rappers and songs outright. And at a time when women’s bodies and rights are under serious attack, the freedom to speak out for joy, change, and inspiration can help keep us safe and sane.
“When I heard the chorus introduce Eve as ‘that girl,’ I too took on the ‘that girl’ persona. When Trina said she was a ‘five-star bitch,’ It was an affirmation for all of us.”
The voices that black female rappers – conscious, active, and in between – give us are a fundamental affirmation of our worth and power. Without exaggeration, hip-hop saved my life, especially women in hip-hop. look myself. They reminded me of who I am and gave me the strength to act like that. That was true then and it’s true now.
Not only did black women start getting sassy with hip-hop, we were reaffirmed by seeing things that reminded us to pop shit. Especially in recent years, we’ve seen more and more women taking over rap and literally saving it. City Girls, GloRilla, TiaCorine, Doechii, and Flo Milli are just a few examples. This wave of so many different types of women dominating this genre and confidently doing it their own way is nothing short of revolutionary.
This story is part of a HuffPost series celebrating 50 years of hip-hop. See all coverage here.
