Rap has long been one of music’s most innovative and influential genres, shaping cultures both in the United States and abroad pushing boundaries. However, the idea that “the only way to win is to beat them at their own game” is a notion that doesn’t seem to apply to Black women in rap. Female rappers consistently face disrespect and systemic disregard despite their evident talent, powerful presence, and ability to excel in key metrics like production quality, lyricism, wordplay, and personality. These women, with their Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve and Talent, are not just contributing to the evolution of rap but excelling in ways that challenge and redefine the space for women in the genre. Yet, even with their remarkable skill, these qualities don’t always translate into acknowledgement or respect in an industry that has historically devalued Black women, often favoring factors other than true merit.
The blatant misogyny and sexism in the rap industry often target sexually explicit artists like Sexyy Red, Lil Kayla and CupcakKe, impeding them from receiving the respect and recognition they deserve. Sexyy Red, in particular, has revitalized the female trap scene with her fresh perspective as she blends genres and infuses new energy into the music. While Nicki Minaj, Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion form the modern-day “holy trinity” of female rap, none embody the distinct influence of trap music quite like Sexyy Red. Sexyy Red’s breakout album, Hood Hottest Princess, was released in June of 2023 and has significantly impacted the charts and streaming platforms since then. It debuted on the Billboard 200 and peaked at No. 62, a strong showing for her first studio album. Several tracks from the album have gained widespread recognition, particularly her single “SkeeYee,” which also climbed to No. 62 on the Billboard Hot 100 and No. 17 on the Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs chart. Apart from the album’s charting success, it is one of the strongest sophomore albums in female trap in the past ten years, showing legitimate levels of talent and persona. Sexyy skillfully combines trap’s signature production and 808 beats with her unique cadence, vibrant personality, and enthralling confidence on her tracks. However, vulgar female artists often face harsher judgments from society and are frequently overlooked because of their explicit lyrics and imagery.
The hypersexualization of women in rap began with gangsta rap’s rise in the ‘80s and the genre’s mainstream success in the ‘90s, with artists like Snoop Dogg and Notorious B.I.G. featuring scantily clad women as sexual accessories. By the early 2000s, the “video vixen” trope emerged, with artists such as Nelly and 50 Cent concentrating their videos around women in revealing outfits and suggestive situations.
Such sexism stems from deeply rooted gender stereotypes and a lack of female representation, both reinforced by patriarchal ideals that rigidly define and restrict gender roles. These norms position men as dominant and authoritative, expecting women to be passive and reinforcing male dominance within the industry. Rap often amplifies misogynistic themes, using lyrics that objectify women, glorify violence, and reduce female sexuality to a commodity. However, male rappers are celebrated for their sexual expression, which is portrayed as an extension of their success and dominance. Their hypersexuality is admired as a symbol of freedom and creativity, aligning with the aspirational lifestyles they project. Meanwhile, female rappers face criticism for similar expressions of sexuality, with their talent often diminished by superficial judgements about their appearance. This glaring double standard reinforces a culture that uplifts male perspectives while sidelining women’s contributions, hampering their ability to assert their artistry in a male-driven industry.
This sexual, gender-based paradigm has persisted for years, with female rappers often facing backlash for their sexually explicit music, igniting debates over what constitutes sexual autonomy versus sexual commodification. In her essay, “Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power,” renowned poet and activist Audre Lorde delves into this complex dichotomy, distinguishing between the erotic and the pornographic, offering a profound critique of societal perceptions and their implications. Lorde posits that the erotic is an authentic expression of joy, passion, and creativity, guiding individuals toward a fuller, more meaningful life through work, relationships, and art (88). Thus, the erotic transcends mere lustful desire; it embodies a heightened awareness of what truly fulfills us. However, it is essential to recognize that not all women who engage in sexually explicit work are oppressed or disempowered. Many find empowerment and agency in their choices, challenging the notion that all expressions of sexuality in this realm are inherently degrading.
In contrast, the pornographic often represents a distorted, commodified, and dehumanizing counterpart to the erotic, especially when created from a patriarchal perspective. Characterized by domination and control, the pornographic can alienate individuals from their genuine sexuality, contributing to both desensitization and degradation. These prevailing views of sex and female sexual expression cultivate a culture where women may be conditioned to fear and suppress their erotic power. In this environment, the erotic is frequently mistaken for the pornographic, leading to a disconnection from women’s true selves and desires. However, Lorde may have overlooked a nuance; while many of these songs are indeed explicitly pornographic, they challenge societal norms by allowing women to explore and control their narratives. This act of reclaiming autonomy has historically threatened the patriarchal structure, making society uncomfortable with women using themes that were once tools of oppression. Artists like Sexyy Red, Lil Kayla, and CupcakKe are currently experiencing what Lil’ Kim, Foxy Brown, Trina, and Khia did in the ‘90s and 2000s. Their predecessors were among the first to confront this backlash, pushing boundaries in their lyrics and visuals to reclaim their artistic narratives. In doing so, they transformed the pornographic into a powerful form of self-expression. This tension underscores the ongoing struggle for women to assert their autonomy in a landscape that often seeks to undermine it. .
This situation perpetuates a double standard. Men’s sexuality is considered a display of power, while women’s sexuality is often subject to control, shame, or exploitation. Men can objectify women without consequence, but when women embrace their sexuality, they are labeled “trashy” or “unladylike.” This criticism highlights the patriarchal views that categorize women as either pure “Madonnas” or tainted “whores,” reducing them to binary sexual roles that restrict their recognition as complex individuals. Operating within this framework leaves no room for nuanced identities; women who create sexually explicit music often lose respect and face stigmatization, while men are celebrated as “players,” reinforcing the cultural belief that men’s sexual exploits are praiseworthy, unlike women’s.
Unfortunately, when people make all this unnecessary noise and get uptight, we lose sight of the best part: the music. The explicit and sexually charged lyrics often serve as a barrier to entry for many disapproving listeners, hindering their ability to engage with the true messages these women convey. Their use of literary devices, contextual play and innovative themes push the boundaries of the genre. They demonstrate veritable talent and exceptional creative expression, which is particularly admirable given the vitriol and backlash they often face. Furthermore, these artists showcase a tangible talent that rivals their male counterparts, frequently matching and even surpassing the creative complexity of male artists’ work. By actively challenging the notion that explicit lyrics lack depth, they prove that such content can convey profound messages about identity, empowerment, and resilience.
Sexyy’s tracks like “Looking For The Hoes (Ain’t My Fault)”, “Nachos” and “Female Gucci Mane” showcase Sexyy’s clever lyrical playfulness with production that harkens back to the rap styles of the early 2010s. The beat production on Hood Hottest Princess is akin to Trap’s 2007-17 era. Sexyy’s album has drawn comparisons to Waka Flocka’s 2010 album Flockaveli, Chief Keef’s 2012 album Back from the Dead, and Gucci Mane’s 2017 album Mr. Davis, among others. All of these albums share the heavy use of 808s — the hallmark of trap music — providing that deep, rattling sound. There’s also prevalent use of hi-hats and high percussions, providing a clear, consistent, driving rhythm allowing the artist’s vocals to take center stage. While Hood Hottest Princess is more contemporary and bouncy, the similarities in personality and bravado, particularly in the ad-libs, are more than undoubtedly present.
Apart from the beat technicalities, it’s objectively well-produced music. Grammy-nominated producer Tay Keith is credited on some of Sexyy’s biggest and catchiest hits, such as one of my personal favorites of hers, “Get it Sexyy,” Chief Keef’s track “DAMN SHORTY” (feat. Sexyy Red), “U My Everything” feat. Drake, “Pound Town” and “I Don’t Wanna Be Saved.” These songs embody Sexyy’s vivacious and provocative sound, showcasing her wordplay and lyricism. With her unparalleled persona, commanding presence, exceptional production quality and infectious confidence, she embodies the essence of female trap music, demonstrating the qualities of a genuine pioneer. Or, as Sexyy herself says in “Female Gucci Mane,” “I’m hearin’ hoes’ music and they stealin’ Sexyy bars / I’m drippin’ on these hoes, yea, bitch I got the sauce.”
Lil Kayla, a rising force from the Bay Area, cemented her place in hip-hop with her second album, Wassup. Songs like “One More Chance,” “Conceited,” “That’s Right,” “4000 Degreez” and “3rd Quarter Freestyle” exude an unapologetic and dominant energy often associated with male rappers. At the same time, Lil Kayla challenges the typical rap trope that views women as disposable objects. Through her audacious style, she redefines the narrative, declaring herself with both confidence and defiance. In songs like “Conceited,” she boldly declares, “If you want it come and get it / if you with it you gon’ lick it / throw it up and let him flip it / bring it down and let him kiss it / change my number I go missing / once he lick it imma dis him,” “My mama raised a player, she ain’t raise no dummy / keep a mug on my face cuz really ain’t s**t funny / Told him long as you keep lickin’ baby imma keep comin’ / and ballers barely don’t impress me cuz I been gettin money” and “N****s yellin’ call me daddy ‘till the period late / b****s poppin hella p***y but they kids ain’t ate / pull the perm out the box it’s time to get s**t straight.” Her artistic prowess shines through on this album, demonstrating that she is a formidable talent, even as she remains unjustly overlooked and unfairly sidelined by the mainstream music industry.
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the rapper CupcakKe in this conversation. While much of her notoriety stems from her assertive and explicit lyrics, her recent resurgence can also be attributed to remixes of her songs gaining popularity on TikTok. CupcakKe may not be a trap artist, but she remains an underappreciated talent in the female rap scene. This lack of recognition is primarily due to the sensationalism of her most explicit and widespread hits, like “Deepthroat” and “Vagina,” which unapologetically explore themes of sexual agency. However, her music goes beyond that, addressing issues such as poverty, LGBTQ+ rights and mental health. Her work often blurs the line between the erotic and the pornographic, much like the debates female rappers frequently face around agency and objectification. Despite her provocative content, CupcakKe’s music is celebrated for its humor, wit and empowering messages. Her ability to express her sexuality on her terms makes her a significant voice in conversations about sexual expression in music, especially in the context of female empowerment.
A key yet often overlooked aspect of these artists’ talent is the humor and playfulness woven into their lyricism. They maintain an unabashed, fresh, and cutting-edge sound that not only reshapes female rap, but also influences its creative direction by addressing complex and systemic issues with a jovial and carefree spirit. By blending humor with meaningful topics, they connect with audiences on multiple levels, enriching hip-hop as a whole. These women are pushing the boundaries of musical expression while redefining societal norms surrounding femininity and sexuality in hip-hop, enhancing our understanding of their music beyond mere entertainment. When artistry takes precedence over shock value, listeners can appreciate the depth and nuance in their work. Their complexity elevates their artistry and contributes to hip-hop’s evolution as a platform for diverse voices. In breaking barriers, they reshape the landscape, ensuring that their contributions are celebrated for their creativity and confidence.
If this is the case, why are these women still underappreciated and disrespected? Ideally, one would hope that consistent hard work and demonstrated talent would lead to widespread respect and recognition. Unfortunately, this is not the reality. The rap music industry does not operate on a meritocracy; instead, it is influenced by systemic biases and societal norms that often overshadow the contributions of talented female artists. Their struggles underscore the systemic challenges Black women in rap must navigate to achieve acknowledgment, success and respect.
I have no problem admitting that sexist and misogynistic rap can still unequivocally slap, don’t get it twisted. Sometimes, the going gets tough, and that’s all I want to hear, which is the definition of co-existing truths. Chauvinistic rap can be both unquestionably damaging — socially and psychologically — to those who listen to it, and at the same time, be some of the most bass-thumping, adrenaline-pumping, hard-hitting, nastiest shit you’ve ever heard. Having grown up experiencing and listening to this genre across multiple decades, I recognize and respect its deep foundations in not only pop culture but Black culture as well. I can listen to and enjoy the music without internalizing its messages, instead appreciating the art form and culture it represents, no matter the artist’s gender. This isn’t an argument for people to start listening to sexually explicit music if it’s not their forte, nor is it a call to stop if it is. However, I urge people to examine their biases and any discriminatory attitudes they may hold, especially concerning the artists they choose to respect. By confronting these often subconscious views, we can create a space to truly appreciate and engage with the C.U.N.T songs these women are making.
There’s a clear moral double standard when listener(s) applaud male artists for rapping about certain themes, while female artists are met with condemnation for the same. For example, Megan Thee Stallion and Cardi B faced widespread backlash for their collaboration on “WAP,” and Nicki Minaj endured intense criticism after releasing her hit song “Anaconda.” These reactions highlight a troubling disparity in how society treats women in the music industry. I encourage you to reflect on why you may prefer male rap artists or feel uneasy about certain female rappers. If you find yourself dancing to Sexyy Red in the club on a Friday night but calling her a classless whore in the cold daylight of Monday morning, I urge you to examine the source of your discomfort. Why do you relish this art yet dismiss and disrespect the artist? If you hold female rappers in contempt while placing their male counterparts on a pedestal — that’s misogyny and sexism, plain and simple.