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Kanye West, we just want you to make G.O.O.D music | Think Piece

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Brother West. Beloved. I was rooting for you. We were all rooting for you.

With notepad in hand, I came forth in hopes of defending your right to free speech.

I knew that I would face fierce backlash. A few weeks ago, I saw how the public roasted your protégée, Chance the Rapper, when he came to your defense, reminding folks that “all Black people don’t have to be Democrats,” yet, I didn’t care.

My mind was made up and I was ready to defend a Black man’s right to form and express his own political views without reprimand.

I wanted to support your right to back a flawed president that has openly endorsed racist conspiracy theories. Don’t like it, then don’t purchase his music. Simple.

You are a visionary and a glorified “college dropout,” after all. We don’t come to you for socioeconomic analysis on the condition of the new Negro. We look to you for fire ass beats and lyrics about what happens when a brother gets “off his Lexapro.”

I was ready to praise you for your fearlessness, your courage and your penchant for going against the grain (especially when you have an album coming out.)

Screw the consequences.

“Name one genius that ain’t crazy,” right? But then you opened your mouth … and you kept opening your mouth. And now, I’m at a loss  for words.

My plan to speak up for Mr. West went left. I knew that you could throw me a Sammy Sosa, pre-bleaching type of curveball, still, I hadn’t calculated this amount  of coonery. Not in 2018. Not with Mr. “Grab ‘Em by the Lady Parts,” in the Oval.

Then the “terrible awful” happened, and we’re not talking about that time when the character, Minny, in The Help, baked her white boss-lady a chocolate custard pie, knowing damn well that she had stuffed a handful of her poop in the batter. No, containing the fallout from a hot mess like that would be a walk in the park compared to what Kanye done got himself into.

I tried to start writing, but I felt like I was filling out an application for a position in the Trump White House. You know, you’re not really wanted, but apply anyway. It’s probably not going to work, yet you say, “screw it,” how bad can it be?”

Well, in the words of former White House aide Omarosa Manigault Newman, “it’s bad” and “it’s going to not be OK.”

Kanye took his behind on national TV, presumably to defend himself  against comments the made in support of the president last week, fixing his mouth to say that “400 years of slavery was a choice.”

“When you hear about slavery for 400 years … for 400 years? That sounds like a choice,” West, who wore a MAGA hat and referred to President Trump as “my boy,” said on TMZ Live last Tuesday. Continuing his critique against Blacks who were enslaved, he continued, “You was there for 400 years and it’s all of y’all? You know, it’s like we’re mentally imprisoned.”

The self-proclaimed genius of hip-hop then took to Twitter in an effort to clarify his remarks.


“We need to have open discussions and ideas on unsettled pain… to make myself clear. Of course, I know that slaves did not get shackled and put on a boat by free will,” he tweeted Tuesday. “My point is for us to have stayed in that position even though the numbers were on our side means that we were mentally enslaved.”

Now look, I’m not about to sit here and pretend as if I’ve never toyed with the idea of “what if all the slaves decided to fight back at the same time?” We all have thought about it on some level;  however, we would never dare to articulate it.  Most of us know that many-of-slaves gave their lives resisting the inhumane institution of chattel enslavement, and ignoring that would make us sound totally, well, Yeezus.

But that’s what you did, Kanye. You somehow managed to out Yeezus yourself, and there’s no amount of Lexapro in the world that can fix that amount of ignorance .

And for that, I sentence you to three seasons of Keeping up with the Kardashians, no makeup or name-brands involved, with an option to lessen the time if you agree to take a Beyoncé-style vow of silence. FO-EVA.

Just hush Ye, or, as your “boy” Trump would say, “just shut up and dribble.”  Besides, aren’t you too rich to be sitting at home drafting tweets all by your blonde-headed lonesome? Hire someone for that.

But if none of those things inspire you, than do it for your fans. The ones who loved on you when you suddenly decided to change your interview voice, lowering it by three octaves in favor of a more “assimilated” speaking tone.

The ones who supported you through the 808s and Heartbreak era—sure, it was dark and melancholy; nonetheless, you had just lost your mother, so, we cut you some slack. Besides, have you ever seen a motherless mama’s boy cry? It’s heartbreaking.

Bruh, we even stood by you when you started to call yourself Yeezus. (Those beats were fire and we could always repent for the sacrilege later, right?)

We tried to play along, but the game isn’t fun anymore, Ye. We’re worried that you’re either abusing your mental illness card by expecting us to give “crazy Kanye” a pass. Or, even worse, we’re wondering if you would really do all this just to amp us up for your next big project. With all the aforementioned antics,  you have proven that you have the propensity to stoop that low.

Nevertheless, you’re a father of three now, so it’s time to display a bit of self-restraint. Express yourself through your art, through your style and through your lyrics. Express yourself though your music.

School us, Kanye, but do it while using the platform that we have all grown to love you for: hip hop. Do it through art, do it through word play, do it through your unquestionably sense of style. But please, Ye, do it through the music.

You’ve earned authority within the hip-hop culture, so use it.

But use it wisely. The world is listening now, so drop those gems while you have its attention.

Let your music be your haven – a place of refuge in a country that promotes freedom, but embraces group think. Hip hop is your safe space, Ye, and there’s no need for political correctness there, especially when you’re the self-proclaimed “greatest of all time.”

We will listen if, you let the music speak for you and we’ll even pretend to like your new track, Lift Yourself, aka the Poopety Plop song, just for kicks.

There’s no need to get political on us. Or if you do, please talk to Harry Belafonte. This was not a cross that you needed to bare. Though, if you must bear it, can you at least do it over a kick drum and an ultra-layered trap beat?

We just want you to make G.O.O.D  music at a time when there’s very little to aspire to in hip-hop. We just want to love you again, much like the way you used to love you.

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