2 Chainz, formerly known as Tity Boi, was brought up by Ludacris, featured on many of the South’s top act’s songs, and is a 3-time certified gold artist for “No Lie,” “I’m Different,” and “Birthday Song.” MTV and BET have both given him solo accolades for his 2012 breakout, and that year he was The Source’s Man of the Year. His 40 guest appearances in that time are impressive in theory, and his hit songs have the snagging hook and catchiness for days, but, all of this does not excuse him of his completely uninspired verse.
Chainz most memorable lines are the type that inspire ironic glee: “She got a big booty, so I call her: big booty” is almost defiant in its lameness, which is probably why it is so often repeated by people looking to scream random shit out the window of a passenger’s seat.
Moreover Chainz’s stilted, pausing flow is identical from one song to the next. He could have written everything all at the same time ten years ago, and we would be none the wiser.
Waka Flocka has admitted to not being a lyricist, and, better yet, this cosmic claim: “I ain’t got not no lyrics” affords his slack jawed sensibilities a bit of honest credibility. However, call me old-fashioned, but I think household names in the rap game shouldn’t eschew the use of … lyrics, or consonants for that matter.
The M.O. of any given Waka Flocka track is a tired one, literally. He shamelessly slurs his way through a bunch of misogynistic tropes “ben’ over, drop it girl, blablabla bands” in any given song like he just discovered ordering a woman around as replacement for actual thought. What he actually discovered was a paradox in vocals: lazy shouting. Then, perhaps as an apology, Flocka arhythmically calls over his own shouting on backup vocals, often screaming his own moniker over and over again, as if we forgot it was him. “Flocka, Waka, Waka, Flocka, Squad!”
It is well documented that Waka’s mother is the former manager of Gucci Mane, who brought Waka to the forefront. Whether or not we can chalk Waka’s fame to this unclear, but either way it is not important. What is important is the fact that Waka is devolving Southern hip-hop. Did we really need a second rate Mike Jones on Xanax?