But at a time when music and media landscapes are in disarray and the traditional gatekeepers of the entertainment industry matter less than ever before, there is no reason that the U. in 2017 can’t have its own “God Save the Queen” moment, 40 years after England’s dreamers showed us the way. YG is a terrific rapper, a charismatic and whip-smart M. whose meticulous, faux-vintage gangsta rap has made him a critical darling since his 2014 major-label debut, .
To deliver political agitprop through popular music is to tiptoe a narrow tightrope, one that requires balancing righteous provocation with the artistic demands of actual songcraft.
Drain all that shit and run it under cold water so that the noodles and snap peas cool down and stop cooking.
Put the cooked noodles and snap peas in a large bowl.
“You know, I never did it because I always thought, like, I would end up fucking a female rapper and fucking the business up,” he said.
His charming explanation for withholding opportunities to 50 percent of the population, including those who are talented and could potentially bring money to his business, did not get better as he kept talking.
He rapped, “Put molly all in her Champagne, she ain’t even know it/ I took her home and I enjoyed that, she ain’t even know it.” The lyrics cost him his deal with Reebok. The question about female rappers comes near the eight-minute mark.
we appreciate that and all the artists here adore you,” she said very sincerely, as Beyoncé cried in the crowd.