Ask a sixteen-year-old to name some of his favorite hip-hop artists, and you’ll hear names such as Fetty Wap and G-Eazy. These artists are at the vanguard of a new century of hip-hop/rap. With lyrics such as, “I got a glock in my rari” (Fetty Wap’s “679”) and “However long these drugs last, don’t know why I live so fast” (G-Eazy’s “Let’s Get Lost”), poetry is the last banner one might place rap under. For older generations, these burgeoning American rappers are the voice of post-millennials. They often paint a morally bankrupt image of our generation. It’s undeniable that these raps are suggestive. Some are downright disturbing, condoning street and domestic violence and degrading entire populations. Perhaps there really is no synthesis between modern poetry and modern hip-hop. But let’s take a look at what poetry really means.
The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines poetry as, “metrical writing : verse”; “the productions of a poet : poems”; “writing that formulates a concentrated imaginative awareness of experience in language chosen and arranged to create a specific emotional response through meaning, sound, and rhythm,”;“something likened to poetry especially in beauty of expression.” (Merriam Webster)
Poetry is a literary art. It expresses ideas in a musical manner. It’s emotional and rhythmic.
Yet the vast majority of people would never liken Juicy J and 50 Cent to Elizabeth Bishop and May Swenson. Drake and Shakespeare share no ostensible traits.
Nevertheless, rap and poetry are not completely polarized. They both express a writer’s ideas and emotions. Bishop’s language is vivid, epitomizing the aureate language connoted by the word “poetry.” “The state with the prettiest name, the state that floats in brackish water, held together by mangrove roots…” (Bishop’s “Florida”). Bishop’s most prominent devices include imagery and repetition. Her imagery paints an idyllic picture of the state she describes. Her repetition of “the state” redirects to the title. And emotion? Bishop’s poem is propelled by a sense of admiration and loving for Florida’s tranquil atmosphere. Harmony and balance are achieved.
Imagery, repetition, and emotion can be found in many raps, even if they are used to illustrate subjects as mundane as pricey cars, dollar bills, and promiscuous women. A glamorous lifestyle of fame, riches, and infidelity is the paragon. Regardless, the devices are still there.
“Everybody hating, we just call them fans though, in love with the money, I ain’t ever letting go.” (Fetty Wap, “Trap Queen”)
Rhythm is an additional shared element. In music, rhythm is the pattern of beats. In poetry, it’s the stressing of syllables. The only disparity between the two is that hip-hop is accompanied by sounds, whereas poetry is not. Nevertheless, both rhythms help sustain word flow.
Another argument evinces that today’s rap isn’t poetry, but 90’s hip-hop royalty produced a bounty of masterpieces at high tide. Tupac Shakur and Biggie Smalls are two of the most highly lauded 90’s rappers. Lyrics include, “With all this extra stressing, the question I wonder is after death, after my last breath, when will I finally get to rest?” (Shakur’s “Me Against the World”). Yet not all of their lyrics are benign and philosophical. Biggie Smalls’ song “One More Chance” highlights lyrics such as, “I only smoke blunts if they rolled propa.”
Literature and music are so often the voices of social change, reflecting the attitudes and values of the times. Is rap the voice of our youth? Perhaps. Does our intuitive support of vulgar songs send a message about our generation’s capacity for respectful relationships? Perhaps.
But is rap actually poetry? Certainly, but only when written propa.
