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50 Cent Is The Worst Rapper Of The Decade

December 15, 2008

50-cent-50-cent-gun-10763682One fine morning, your humble narrator was sitting in a cubicle, minding his own business, listening to music that objectively did not suck, when he was interrupted by an office-casual clad bulging white guy in an oxford shirt and a Yankees cap, who strolled by, whistling the unmistakable “Du-dou click, click-a-click-click, du-di, du-dow, du-dou” melody of the best arrangement in Mainstream hip hop this decade, the insanely catchy tune to 50 Cent’s debut single “In Da Club”.

Just the melody though. No lyrics.

I can hear what you’re saying. “Surely Ross,” you think, “surely that’s due to the controversial content of the song. One cannot simply wander through a corporate hallway singing blatant profanity and expect to keep one’s job.”

Okay, I grant you that. It’s probably 50% the profanity. But the other 50%?

“And you should love it, way more then you hate it
nigga you mad? I thought that you’d be happy I made it
I’m that cat by the bar toasting to the good life u that faggot ass nigga
trying to pull me back right?”

Yes, that is objectively offensive. It somehow manages to use not 1 but 2 forbidden slurs in a single sentence. But it’s worse than that. After all, Tupac, who filled his songs with some of the most odious slurs imaginable, was an inarguable genius, at least until he returned as a zombie. (see previous post.) What makes it truly terrible is that it’s the weakest, most inane laziness to be hailed as groundbreaking art since Kevin Costner won the Best Director Oscar.

It’s the prefect picture of everything wrong with rap since 1999 – most of us are buried under a mountain of student loan debt, work horrible jobs that pay jack shit and have vacation plans that consist of actually getting enough sleep so you can think about maybe having sex again. Quoting some jackass bragging about being loaded and laid? It takes a special kind of idiot to think that’s cool. The kind of idiot who votes twice for George W. Bush.

But hell, LL Kool J and Nas like to rap about their material success, and they’re awesome. So what makes it so bad? Read again – there’s nothing in there that’s quotable. Nothing.

“But wait,” you say, “you’re pruning! There’re quotable lyrics in that song!”. And you’re right. And here they are:

“Go, go, go shawty
It’s your birthday
We gon’ party like it’s yo birthday
We gon’ sip Bacardi like it’s your birthday”

Oooooh, it’s catchy, right? And everyone picked it up, right? So Fracking What – 50 Cent Did Not Write That Lyric. It’s old enough that it probably appears in Shakespeare. Hell, it appeared in John Hughes movies. 50 finally got his shot and for his amazing debut single, he mines the greatest hits of white teenagers from the suburbs? How the hell is that gangsta?

Speaking of Gangsta, that brings us to problem number 2: 50’s rep. See, 50 made a name for himself talking shit on anyone even remotely more well known than he was, including, allegedly, some well connected drug dealers who didn’t take kindly to being rapped about so shittily and derivatively on some crappy mix tape. So someone shot him 9 times and, I assume, because he resembles Officer Nordberg from the Naked Gun movies, he miraculously survived. The he cut some more mix tapes bragging about how he’s apparently bulletproof, only instead of getting killed for it, the rest of America was collectively punished with 50 getting a record deal from Dr. Dre and Eminem.

Sounds an awful lot like another famous rapper, doesn’t it?

But it gets even worse, because adding to the fact that 50 is a terrible rapper, with derivative lyrics only matched by his derivative back story, he’s also a one-trick pony.

Exhibit A? Magic Stick:

Ah yes, an ode to 50’s ability to maintain his erection after multiple sexual encounters without going flaccid or succuming to scar-tissue build up that suppresses pleasure, while Lil’ Kim brags about her vaginal canal’s ability with bounce back from friction burns. How sexy. But there was trouble in paradise. See, originally, Magic Stick was supposed to appear on Get Rich Or Die Tryin’. But then the powers that be put it on Lil’ Kim’s La Bella Mafia instead. Then, 50 and Kim had a serious falling out over, I assume, whose genitalia was more corroded and scarred from years of abuse. So no video was shot, and when the song blew up giving Lil’ Kim a much needed hit, 50 was prevented from capitalizing on it, aside from the royalties of course.

What’s a gangster to do?

Oh, wait, hang on a bit:

Yep. 50 remade Magic Stick, only even lamer, and with an even less memorable woman singing along with him. And this time, instead of bragging about how well his penis can withstand strenuous activity, he’s just bragging about his ability to have an orgasm while having sexual relations with a prostitute. If that’s all it takes to write a hit song, I assume Elliott Spitzer will be appearing on 50’s next single “Impeachin’ That A$$ (High Cla$$ Hookerz!)“.

I’m not even going to touch his terrible remake of 8 Mile.

Ultimately, it turns out that “50 Cent” isn’t a reference to his get rich or die tryin’ ethos, it’s a reciept for the cost of the bargain basement rhyming dictionary he apparently purchases once a year, just before releasing another 12-songs-too-long ode to his bullet holes, having unprotected sex, and not being a faggot. Face it – there’s a lot of terrible hip hop this decade, but the worst of the worst is Curtis Jackson. Hang up the mike already.