Pitchfork writer Alphonse Pierre’s rap column covers songs, mixtapes, albums, Instagram freestyles, memes, weird tweets, fashion trends—and anything else that catches his attention.
The “Notti Bop” represents the worst of New York drill
Since drill became New York rap’s dominant mode in the mid 2010s, it’s been met with mixed feelings. On the music tip, a portion of fans have rejected the subgenre as a dilution of the lyrical, trendsetting styles New York rap is known for; the city is not supposed to be following in the footsteps of Chicago. On the cultural end, some have wondered if drill is simply a reflection of everyday life in certain corners of the city, or if it’s actively rousing tensions and leading to violence.
Earlier this year, Brooklyn drill star Fivio Foreign said, “It’s not the music that’s killin’ people, it’s the music that’s helpin’ niggas get out the hood.” Meanwhile, local radio DJs spoke out against diss tracks, and even Mayor Eric Adams opened up a temporary fight against the subgenre—though, of course, he just snapped a couple of photos and moved on. The recent murder of a 14-year-old rapper, and an ensuing viral drill hit capitalizing on that murder, has brought it all to a head.
Like Chicago’s scene before it, New York drill has raised a raft of thorny questions. At what point is the line crossed? What is considered censorship? Does moralizing have a place in art? And when does music stop being art and become something else entirely? A lot of times, these concerns are pointed at the artists, as the record labels lurk in the shadows. But as the subgenre has grown and spread throughout the city, labels have swooped in with big checks, hoping to snag the rappers who may spearhead the next wave.
This summer, Brooklyn’s Kyle Richh, TaTa, and Jenn Carter apparently signed a major label deal with Republic Records. The trio made noise for reinvigorating a Brooklyn scene that had lost many of its biggest stars to death (Pop Smoke) and jail (Sheff G and Bizzy Banks), as movements in the Bronx and Harlem picked up steam. Like most drill rappers, their lyrics were cutthroat and ruthless, but they also captured a refreshing playground-cypher spontaneity in their tracks—a feeling that wasn’t always true of Uptown drill, which had become nearly as popular for being documented on YouTube beef pages as it was for music.
Around the same time of that signing, a group of 14 and 15-year-old Harlem drill rappers, who happen to look like they’re about 12, emerged with a string of diss tracks. They were brothers Notti Osama and DD Osama, along with Sugarhillddott. According to a New York Times report, on a Saturday afternoon in early July, the 14-year-old Notti Osama, born Ethan Reyes, was stabbed to death at the 137th Street-City College subway station. The teen’s 43-year-old cousin later stated that the killing was the result of a flame ignited in his music. After his murder was heavily chronicled by beef pages, including platforms like No Jumper, who hit the surrounding neighborhood for an exploitive, Vice-style exposé, the crew’s popularity skyrocketed. Last month, DD Osama was rumored to have signed with Alamo Records, whose roster includes Lil Durk and Rod Wave. And the diss records have kept coming.
Two weeks ago, Kyle Richh, TaTa, and Jenn Carter released a new single with a decently budgeted music video that shows them rapping over a sample from an animated children’s show and dancing in front of luxury cars. Despite how innocent that sounds, “Notti Bop” is the most unsettling rap song of 2022, and you could probably go even further than that. It’s a gross response to a minor diss track Notti and DD released early this year. On it, Kyle Richh, TaTa, and Jenn Carter cheerfully mock the 14-year-old’s murder with a dance that imitates a stabbing motion.
The song quickly became the No. 1 music video on YouTube. Then the dance hit TikTok, with everyone from cops to teachers to fellow rappers hitting the move, many without knowing (or caring) about the context. After a couple of days, YouTube took the video down, but the damage was done. Multiple reuploads by fans have garnered hundreds of thousands of clicks almost instantly, and videos using the “Notti Bop” hashtag on TikTok have been viewed more than 80 million times.
The “Notti Bop” is what it looks like when the darkest side of New York drill wins out. It has no musical merit—the lyrics lazily coast on shock, and the sample-based beat is beyond obvious—and it’s only being discussed because of its cruelty. Beef pages are having a field day. TikTok finds the brazeness hilarious. It may very well be the song that kicks off the next wave of New York drill, one full of newly minted teenagers trying to up real-life stakes as the engine for their music. It’s not going to go well for anyone except, perhaps, the labels who cash in and then move on when it all goes wrong. (Representatives at Republic did not respond to a request for comment.)
For those who followed Chicago drill, diss tracks and songs mocking the dead have always represented the grimmest side of the subgenre. They’ve usually been considered creatively bankrupt tactics—things rappers do when they’re desperate. So while I can’t say this hasn’t happened before, it does feel different now. It’s the tone. The scale. The ages. And the amount of eyeballs that are on the New York scene, with fans taking sides like they’re at a gladiator duel. Meanwhile, gatekeepers fan the flames as their streaming and social media numbers skyrocket. The exploitation is at a breaking point.
Lebra Jolie: “What Kinda”
There was a scene the other night on Bachelor in Paradise that reminded me of Lebra Jolie’s “What Kinda.” The women on the island confronted a man who had been disrespectful to them, and he responded combatively. Then the guys challenged him on the same thing, and he was immediately apologetic. This is the behavior Houston’s Lebra Jolie just can’t stand: dudes living for the approval of other dudes. “You too excited for these niggas, even got the same fit/Buying watches for yo’ boys but you say you ain’t a trick,” she raps in an agitated tone over the crashing beat. She keeps going, too, with a string of low blows against the guys who get on her nerves. Bad hairlines. Pushing women aside to pass the hookah to your bros at the club. Riding around in their baby mama’s whip. It’s an extremely rude, and extremely warranted, diatribe.
Throwback Rapper Movie Corner: Snoop Dogg in 2001’s Bones
Of the four Ernest Dickerson movies led by rappers, Bones is by far the worst. A little less than a year after Snoop Dogg’s No Limit swan song, he starred in this flick as Jimmy Bones, a good-natured neighborhood numbers runner who gets killed after refusing to help an undercover cop and drug dealer push crack in his community. Years later, the neighborhood where he lived has fallen apart, and Snoop haunts the house where he died through some demon dog.
A group of twentysomethings, including Juice’s Khalil Kain, move into the house, and Snoop’s ghost begins to creep them out by not really doing anything. Eventually he comes back to life somehow and has tons of powers, which he uses to get revenge on the people who killed him. Not a whole lot happens. There’s maggots, decapitations, and weed smoke jokes, to go along with a Pam Grier love story that I didn’t really care about. At the end this hokey Snoop song called “Legend of Jimmy Bones” plays. And guess what? Even that stinks, too.
SME Taxfree, Dai Ballin, and RRB Duck: “Tie Me Down”
If you take North Philly out of the picture, Milwaukee’s rap scene has dancing on lock. Within seconds of the “Tie Me Down” music video, you see a variety of twirls, hand movements, and bobbing and weaving motions to accompany rap video staples like blowing smoke, counting money, and flaunting wristwear. The thing is that “Tie Me Down” isn’t really the type of song that makes you want to dance. SME Taxfree, Dai Ballin, and RRB Duck sing quietly through a thick layer of Auto-Tune about… honestly I don’t know what. They’re getting money or whatever. That’s not really important. The hi-hats rattle, the 808s boom, and the Auto-Tune mesmerizes. Most importantly, the dance moves will have you practicing in front of a mirror until you realize that they’re best left to Milwaukee rappers.
Mixtape of the week: FCG Heem’s ShallowSide Baby (DJ Frisco edition)
Generally, I think FCG Heem’s ShallowSide Baby is pretty good: The Fort Lauderdale native has a decent sense of melody and a solid pen. But the tape’s fast version, courtesy of Broward’s DJ Frisco, is a serious upgrade. It turns songs that I didn’t care about into on-repeat obsessions. Suddenly, I feel lines that I didn’t previously notice deep in my soul. It’s not just that the music is sped up: Frisco always picks the perfect spot to start, rewind, and loop the track, and his DJ drops inject it with a jolt of energy, too. Maybe everything should be faster.
Jimbo World: “Background”
St. Petersburg, Florida rapper Jimbo World’s drug dealing tales have a melancholic tint: It’s not that the stories are sad, exactly, but he talks about them like he has no other choice. “Same fit for about a week, nigga gotta stay down/I was in the path, on the way to Maryland on the Greyhound,” he raps casually on “Background,” as if it’s nothing new. The song’s jittery drums and hazy melody sound like they were ripped straight from the back end of a Babyface Ray mixtape. And even the good times—a night throwing dollar bills at the strip club, a trip to the jeweler to buy his next piece—are more of a sigh of relief than anything else.
