Like That: Why Hip Hop Needed Kendrick to Diss Cole and Drake
Kendrick is the most artistic, Drake is the best entertainer, and J. Cole has the strongest connection to the fans. Who will rise to the top when these three titans clash?
If you’re a hip hop head, in this moment you may feel how basketball fans felt when the Warriors and Cavaliers traded blows in the 2016 Finals, when Mayweather and Pacquiao barely traded blows in their 2015 megafight, or—most recently—when Katt Williams broke the Internet with 2 hours plus of pure, exposé entertainment. The ground is swelling; we’ve waited on this one for a minute.
On his fearless feature verse from Future and Metroboomin’s “Like That”, Kendrick Lamar “chooses violence”—firing shots at his contemporaries J. Cole and Drake. Over the last decade plus, the three elite talents of their generation have had intertwined legacies—lobbing more subliminals at each other than the 2012 LA Clippers. It’s no surprise the Compton rapper was the first to take direct aim at the “First Person Shooter” duo. He’s always been like that.
In 2013, Lamar walked into the middle of hip hop’s unity circle and flipped the table over with his well-documented “Control” verse. His intent was to “raise the bar high” for quality albums and inspire more friendly competition back then. This time there’s more to it. Competition is in hip hop’s DNA. Like in capitalism, higher competition has historically led the rap market to create better products. While it’s inspiring to see young black and brown people join hands in hip hop, all this buddy-buddy shit is diluting the product; and Kendrick sees it. Aside from the shortage of special albums we’ve gotten over the last five years, many members of the culture are moving with less integrity.
There is something inauthentic about the way rappers are forming alliances. Rather than artists collaborating due to creative synergies or shared missions, there are algorithms that predetermine the best matches. Clout is the new dominant currency. Let’s put Drake’s attention-seeking social media antics aside. As the biggest hip hop artist in the world, Drake has resigned himself to reusing the same tired album template and jumping on young rappers’ waves instead of forging his own. He feeds us reheated leftovers and we continue to eat them.
Following the “Control” verse, Kendrick and Drake have been engaged in a Cold War of bars for a smooth minute. Check their verses from the 2013 TDE Cypher, Drake’s “The Language”, Jay Rock’s “Pay For It”, Kendrick’s “The Heart Part 4”, Dr. Dre’s “Compton (album)” and most recently Lamar’s “Father Time” for receipts. Unlike J. Cole, Drake noticeably snubbed Kendrick from his theoretical hip hop throne. As someone who benefited from Drake bringing him on tour early in his career, I’m sure Kendrick took exception to that. These guys have been in each others crosshairs and were bound to clash. Kendrick’s shots at Cole—someone he’s described as a brother—are slightly more puzzling.
J. Cole has strung together a historic feature verse run that rivals any hip hop legend you can name. His show-stopping sixteens on Yachty’s “The Secret Recipe”, BIA’s “LONDON”, Royce Da 5’9”’s “Boblo Boat”, and Benny the Butcher’s “Johnny P’s Caddy” are reminiscent of a mid 2000s Wayne. Cole’s new level of rapping ability has swayed the masses. Although Kendrick was considered the consensus best rapper alive following his “DAMN” album in 2017, public sentiment has shifted considerably.
Hip hop thought leaders like Joe Budden and contemporary emcees like Benny the Butcher have given the nod to Cole. Kendrick may have formerly believed his stellar album run distanced him from his peers. From sitting out the better part of the last 7 years, he likely feels his grip on the crown loosening. The ruthless competitor in him won’t let that happen without a fight.
From Ice Cube vs NWA, to Biggie vs Pac, to JAY-Z vs Nas, to 50 vs Everybody, to Drake vs Meek Mill, to Nicki Minaj vs Remy Ma, to Pusha vs Young Money, hip hop beefs have created signature moments. As long as this war of words remains on wax, and doesn’t bleed onto the streets, this is ultimately a good thing for hip hop. (Even if stops us from getting that Cole-Kendrick collab album *sigh*). Let’s call a spade. The best want to step into the ring and throw down to prove who’s the champion. No need to pretend that’s no longer the goal for sales. Since this has been a decade in the making, let’s hope it delivers more like Spence v. Crawford than Mayweather v. Pacquiao.
