Music

Misogynoir in hip-hop: When do we, as Black women, say goodbye to the genre?

It’s not serving us.

Meg at Forbes
Megan Thee Stallion became the first Black woman on the cover of Forbes' 30 Under 30 issue this year. (Photo courtesy of Forbes)

On November 4, Drake and 21 Savage dropped their highly anticipated album, “Her Loss.” Loaded with toxic tropes such as BBL (Brazilian Butt Lift) culture, body dysmorphia, dysfunctional relationships, capitalism, womanizing and domestic violence, “Her Loss” also toes the line of bullying and harassment with its “Circo Loco” track. The song jokingly references and questions the validity of Grammy award-winning rapper Megan Thee Stallion’s alleged aggravated assault by Tory Lanez. Here’s a sample of Drake’s lyrics:

This bitch lies ‘bout getting shots, but she is still a stallion.

She doesn’t even get the joke, but she still smilin.’

Shorty says she graduated, she ain’t learn enough

Play your album, track onе, ‘kay, I heard enough.

There have been heated debates on social media, mainly Twitter, claiming these lyrics were simply a play on words or a double entendre. However, jokes about violence aren’t usually coincidental. It was an intentional choice made by Drake to say Megan was lying about her assault.

On July 12, 2020, Megan Thee Stallion (also known as Megan Pete), Canadian rapper Tory Lanez (also known as Daystar Peterson), and associates gathered at Kylie Jenner’s house in Los Angeles for a poolside hang. While leaving Jenner’s house, Peterson and Pete got into a verbal altercation in their car. As the argument escalated, Pete asked to be released from the vehicle.

“I asked the driver to pull me out of the car. Like, ‘I’m done with this.’ I should have stayed out of the car,” said Pete to CBS Mornings’ Gayle King. “I should not have gotten back in the car.”

Upon exiting the vehicle, Pete was allegedly assaulted by Peterson. “So I get out of the car, and everything happens so fast. And all I hear is this man screaming; he says, ‘Dance, bitch,’ and starts shooting. And I’m like, ‘Oh my God!’”

Pete says the shooter aimed through the SUV’s open window and fired multiple rounds in her direction. “I didn’t want to move too quickly because I thought, ‘Oh my God, if I take the wrong step, I don’t know if he can shoot something super important, I don’t know if he could shoot me and kill me.’ I was scared because I’d never been shot at before.”

Pete was unaware of what was happening, but felt her injuries. She saw her feet bleeding and decided to duck for cover in a nearby driveway.

Pete’s response? Shock, confusion, and hesitation. She thought, What are you talking about? Why are you offering me money right now? Help me.

With the police on the way and eyewitnesses in the neighborhood, Pete panicked and felt anxious for her safety. Remember, it was the summer of 2020, two months after George Floyd’s murder and demonstrations against racial injustice.

“There were so many of them, there were helicopters, and I just thought, Oh my God, we’re all about to die,” she said. “The George Floyd incident had just happened, the police are very much, Shoot first, ask questions after, so I think, ‘there’s a hot gun in the car, I am bleeding, I’ve been shot…they’re about to kill somebody. Something bad is about to happen,’” Pete recalled.

Instead of telling the police the truth about being shot, Pete focused on de-escalating the situation and saving their reputations, and Peterson’s life. She told the police that she stepped on glass and stuck with this story until she landed in the hospital. The doctors disclosed that they removed bullet fragments from each of her feet, which remain there to this day.

Pete’s assault remains controversial two years later because of her star power. The case is still open, and even with evidence, testimony from Pete, and an ongoing trial, most people are convinced that Peterson didn’t shoot Pete or that she was never shot — especially members of the hip-hop community.

According to Okayplayer, 50 Cent and Cam’ron poked fun at the alleged altercation by sharing various memes on their Twitter accounts in 2020. 50 Cent eventually apologized, taking to Twitter to write: “Damn, I didn’t think this shit was real; it sounded so crazy @theestallion. I’m glad your feeling better, and I hope you can accept my apology.”

So, why aren’t Black women believed when we dare to voice our assaults? The answer is easy: Our personhood isn’t valued outside of our appearance and perceived sexuality in the hip-hop community. Also, it could be that Black men secretly don’t like us and resent our successes.

Nonetheless, violence towards Black women in hip-hop isn’t new, whether the survivors are artists, management, executives, or listeners.

The more we witness violence against Black women in hip-hop, the more we encounter a deaf ear. Female rappers such as Latto, Lil’ Kim, and Yung Miami have all been victims of physical assault, including sexual abuse or unwanted advances. Unfortunately, these violent cases are never a big deal within the community. They are often swept under the rug or considered part of the game, something these female artists signed up for to achieve fame and success in a male-dominated industry.

The alleged abuse is often celebrated and used to torment the victim further. For example, in a recent song titled “Boogeyman,” DaBaby, a former friend and collaborator of Megan Thee Stallion’s, insinuated that he had a sexual relationship with her, rapping:

The day before she said that Tory Lanez shot her, I was fuckin’ on Megan Thee Stallion / Waited to say that shit on my next album / Hit it the day before too.

While many male rappers make light of female rappers’ abuse, they also capitalize on it by mentioning abusive incidents in songs to keep their names circulating in the press and to drive song streams. As insidious and cruel as it is, the strategy is winning. Not only does this increase song popularity and garner attention, but the action casts doubt over the victim’s truth — ultimately watering down the severity of the abuse.

Pete and Peterson’s alleged altercation has sparked a larger conversation around Black women’s protection in the hip-hop industry and against misogynoir, the term queer Black feminist Moya Bailey coined to define the contempt and ingrained prejudice that black women routinely experience.

Are Black women ever protected, or do we continue to live at the intersection of sexism and racism?

In 2021, the Protect Black Women and Girls Act was introduced in Congress by Robin L. Kelly. The bill established an Interagency Task Force to cover issues involving Black women and girls in education, economic development, health care, justice and civil rights, and housing. This involves examining the conditions and experiences of Black women and girls to identify and assess the efficacy of policies and programs of federal, state, and local governments designed to improve outcomes for such individuals, subsequently making recommendations to improve those policies and programs.

In parallel with the racial injustices the Black community experienced in 2020, the #ProtectBlackWomen movement was born from tragedy, such as the murders of Breonna Taylor and Oluwatoyin “Toyin” Salau. But one wonders if the #ProtectBlackWomen movement can be more than a hashtag in the male-dominated hip-hop industry.

Unfortunately, I don’t think so because the intention to protect isn’t there from hip-hop artists. Although Pete was brave in speaking up about her abusive incident, it wasn’t received well by her male counterparts. Her voice caused friction, anger, and ridicule.

She’s also been vocal about her mistreatment in the music industry. From a faulty contract leading to a restraining order against her previous indie label, 1501 Certified Entertainment, to violent attacks, the performer hasn’t shied away from putting her abusers on blast.

And she’s not the only one. Black women in hip-hop, whether on stage or in the boardroom, bear the brunt of backlash or “cancel culture” if they speak up. From Drew Dixon to Dee Barnes, who alleged physical and sexual abuse at the hands of, respectively, Dr. Dre and Russell Simmons, the consequences are still the same — speak up, and you’ll be blackballed and pushed out of the industry.