Women, Sex & Hip-Hop: Where Do We Draw the Line? Posted by Yoh on 05/01/13 | Filed under Opinion, Issues

It's ironic that hip-hop, the music genre depicted as a woman, is constantly under fire for how its artists portray women. All genres house the alluring promiscuous groupie, but hip-hop’s infatuation with women is mostly viewed in a negative, rather than positive, light. From their portrayal in the music videos, to the myriad mentions of bitches and hoes, it’s hard to deny the undertone misogynistic attitude. The constant uplifting and belittling, attack and apologize, berate and glorify cycle doesn’t do anything to nullify this image. It’s hard to deny, despite all the money, the fame, the cars, and the glory – women are still rappers most sought after trophy, or are they the battered housewife who has found normality in the constant exploitation and sexual objectification?

A trophy is meant to be displayed in glowing; glossiness for it’s to be admired by undeserving eyes as a metaphor for your accomplishments. An accolade of hard work, dedication, and acknowledgement; in a vain sense women play that role within the music industry. They are the universe gift bestowed to the successful musically inclined, once they reach a point of worldly appeal. The un-named and un-seen that appear at tour concerts, in clubs, at meet and greets, hoping to make true on their promised lustful explicitness made through tweets and other mediums that allow them a position to converse with this person. By some starred aligned miracle, if she’s able to obtain the rights of passage to show her gratitude for his talents, she’ll become another faceless, nameless sex object that inspires 16 bars. Much like the neck giving women at recent Danny Brown concert, that cleaned the royal penis as the rock star performed without missing a beat. Some will leave lasting effects on the Alfalfa-Male type; Drake is an artist that perfectly personifies everything Alfalfa represents. The woman will be the muse to his hits, and the music will show a softer side outside of the bitches and the hoes, but of course any kind of sensitive exhibition of feeling is presumed as being soft, and lord forbid if anyone shows slated masculinity in hip-hop. This doesn’t define all women, but are the trophies that continued to be mentioned, depicted, and thrown into the forefront of the industry.



The battered housewife was once loved, or disillusioned by the idea of being loved, and is now stuck in an abusive situation that turns into pure acceptance. She knows not how to remove herself from this prison in which holds her captive, which leads to embracing of the situation, and in a purely vain outlook this also describes a vast majority of women hip-hop listeners. It’s no filter for the sexual imagery utilized in both mainstream and underground music that portraits woman as objects of pleasure. No matter where you look, there is a braggadocios message of polygamy. Now this message might not even justly represent the person who expresses the idea, many of these guys are in lovey-dovey relationships, even more than that are married, but that’s a side that rarely is given the time of day within their music.

Most of the songs laden with claps that hypnotize booty to jiggle are home to some of the more offense lyrics that could hit women ears. (Perfect example: "Tip Drill".) Big K.R.I.T can make a song like “Red Eye”, a heartfelt ode to the struggle of balancing love and purist of a dream, but then also have versus like the one upon “Glass House” which is the polar opposite, in content and in morals. Too Short hasn’t evolved in content in almost two decades, yet he still has some relevancy upon the new age listeners. We all know Shorts favorite word, and that also has gone unchanged. It has become a part of the culture, and in the rare cases that it’s questioned, there’s no unity in the attack against the content. Rick Ross latest run in with the media is over his imagery used in song “U.N.E.N.O.” that leaves rape assumptions upon the listener; it blew up greatly on the internet and lead to a dismissal of his million dollar endorsement by Reebok. Yet, in a video, at a recent show, you can see women throughout the venue rapping right along with the part as if the content doesn’t hold a deeper, darker meaning. The song continues to gain notoriety, gain radio spins, and despite its grotesque obvious lyrics, the batter housewife once again turns the other cheek despite two black eyes, a busted lip, and a broken rib.



I understand the notion that it’s only entertainment. Strictly to be enjoyed without offense or discourse, but with that said is there no line to be drawn for what is accepted by you as a woman? There was a boycott against Nelly, there was a petition against Ross, but these minor wins haven’t affected the honest fact that women are the battered housewife trophy of hip-hop. Too much is uncontested, ignored, or embraced. Women didn’t take the power out of being called “a bitch” but embodied the definition; only continue the cycle of disrespect. All the power necessary to change the genre’s continuous degradation of women is in their hands; they simply have to say no. No I won’t support this artist for bashing dark skin women for wearing red lip stick, no we won’t accept your tearful apology after dancing to Michael Jackson, no I won’t shake my ass in your video so that you can get youtube views for this minor pay, no we won’t aspire to be the next Karren Steffens, no we won’t aspire to be on "Love & Hip-Hop", or "Housewives of Atlanta".

Imagine a womanless hip-hop!? It’s the "Love Sosa" music video in 3D. Support the Jean Grae’s, the Rapsody’s, the Angela Yee’s, and the Kimberly Osorio’s that are paving a way for women to co-exist and compete without sacrificing themselves. Sex is great; I love myself a tasteless booty shaking twerk team collage, but to see how little women care about their portrayal, their image in a genre that has always been seen as a woman, it’s a bit disheartening. You have the power to make change if you unite, or else things will continue to be as is. The paint hasn’t dried yet, there’s still time to change how the artist paints you.

- By Yoh (aka If She Died on my Dick, She Would Live Through My Rhymes)

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