We usually like to know that the subject matter we hear artists sing about is true, that the emotions they convey are real, that the connections we form with them through our shared experiences are genuine. Yet, in the case of rap a genre that frequently glorifies alcohol and drug use, violence and the objectification of women being true to life may be more disturbing than comforting.
On May 22, Aubrey Louis Berry was acquitted of the murder of Atlanta rapper Dolla, who was shot several times near a shopping mall in May 2009. During his trial, Berry, who worked in marketing in the music industry, claimed to have opened fire in self-defense, after Dolla allegedly threatened his life.
After the trial, Deputy District Attorney Bobby Grace discussed the possibility that the jury was influenced by Dolla's music, some of which celebrated violent behavior.
"I would hate to think that the jurors' decision was based solely on lyrics," Grace told reporters. "It appears they believed what the defendant had to say."
While the jury should obviously have taken into account any evidence and testimony presented during the trial, I don't think it would have been unreasonable for the jurors to base their judgment of Dolla's character and lifestyle on his lyrics.
From the deaths of Tupac and Notorious B.I.G. in 1996 and 1997, respectively, to the arrests of T.I. in 2009 and Lil Wayne in 2010 on weapons charges, the references to violence and guns in rap and hip-hop music clearly have roots in reality.
Granted, I know I am not in the least bit qualified to discuss the history, culture and reasons behind rap and hip-hop's endorsement of violence, as much as I may talk about my life on the streets (of a small, middle-class suburban town which still grants me street cred, right?) Yet, I can't help but think that part of the problem lies in the lack of responsibility these artists exhibit.
I've seen fans strut around in "Free Weezy" t-shirts (which I initially thought was intended to be a joke), and I've heard Drake incite a crowd to chant "Free Weezy" all as if Lil Wayne were some heroic champion, unjustly imprisoned for trying to liberate a people.
That's hardly the case: Lil Wayne pled guilty to criminal possession of a weapon. He broke the law, admitted it and is now serving time in prison. Where's the injustice? How does the New York Police Department's attempt to get weapons off the street and reduce gang violence make them the oppressive bad guys in that situation?
If we were ever to consider the full reality of what artists are singing about in genres like rap and hip-hop, shaking our hips on the dance floor would probably not be our first reaction to these songs.
Maybe if we were more aware of the implications of the lyrics and if artists realized that the danger and suffering they may experience in their lives are likewise problems that need to be addressed instead of celebrated through music, there would be hope for change.
