Up to this point, Lil B must have dropped at least at least hundreds of albums worth of tapeworm-riddled dog shit on the rap community. What’s even more confounding is how the community has reacted: with blind, sycophantic admiration or a deranged, seething hatred. DEHH has also tackled the subject themselves with… interesting results. By and by, I mostly ignored what seemed like an over-inflated hype machine concerning an artist who deserved none. After all, the one song that did slip past my filter, “I’m Miley Cyrus,” had less nutritional value than a twinkie.
So as a slightly ironic detour, I accepted the prospect of sitting down with “God’s Father” and barreling through a 34-track marathon of straight Lil B. I expected struggle rap on steroids, the equivalent of Forrest Gump blessing the mic with corny “box of chocolate” jewels and messing up verses out of sheer terror. Boy, did I aim too high.
Now let’s get this straight: after hearing “God’s Father,” I can say that his music completely sucks, but does not truly warrant any heated debate. Lil B is mediocre beyond any limitations of the term. His sloppy flow makes Manwiches jealous. He has the vocabulary of a baboon. His errant way of pausing in the middle of a line is completely hilarious and equally disturbing: “I’m so lonely on this pony/ridin’ over the sunlight way past yo’ head/I’m fr-…”
“Secret Obsession” chronicles the most basic come-up story in the laziest fashion possible. “Deep Ass Thoughts” is as deep as a wafer. And his conversational ad libs chronicle a flourishing indie rap career absolute from his actual reality. Either someone keeps lying to this dude or this is the great joke ever concocted.
But one thing has become very clear. Lil B’s skill level, if tightened up here and there and given a spit shine, would be comparable to any other swag rapper currently holding the reins of commercial rap, like a Lil’ Wayne or a Big Sean (Waka Flocka cannot be considered rap, only rhythmic banshee calls). It makes sense for the odd acceptance of his horrid dribble if that particular listener’s standard is a hype beat and a couple quotables mixed within some verbal soup. Coming to grips with Lil B’s inconceivably mediocre body of work only requires a small step back if “6 Foot 7 Foot” was the previous height. What does it matter if he sounds like a drunk person with a speech impediment? They just want something to “cook wonton soup” with.
The bare semblance of a rapper trying his best does come through, and somehow makes Lil B’s music worth a listen, although I find it false. From my perspective, he’s a modern day Juvenal, satirizing the exact medium he uses to get that message across. “God’s Father” may as well be a comedy album for all intended purposes, as the jumbled up thoughts, abrupt pausing, and the feel good song from hell “I Love You” had me rolling on the floor. But that does not detract from the single defining trait of this mixtape and Lil B himself — it sucks.
Check out my favorite lyrical abortions below:
1. “You should feel pain because… you just ended a brain/ father, son, grandkid, anything”
2. “Gat blast niggas fall back you gotta fire/I ain’t neva been a thug, experience is a motherfucka”
3. “Move to a group home, bum all places/rambada Ion know who places/fugadalaniggamangimmeyochanges”
4. “Spit on the beat now the records talk back/this all freestyle I just spit it now it’s written”
5. “Now I’m back, its official like ASAP/writin’ all day, you would think I used my backpack”
6. “And fuck yo’ dreads nigga, and fuck yo’ gold teef/and fuck yo life, nigga, dats where da ends meet”
7. “Niggas got greedy mentals and they mind is a bitch”
8. “Call me Obama Basedgod/Call me Obama Basedgod”
9. “Shut yo mouth bitch/Basedgod, Basedgod/Basedgod it’s Friday/Basedgod’s a bitch cuz he sleeps in a mansion”
10. “I am not perfect/but I am great cuz I keep a smile/I know you are a superstar/ stay based and…”
11. “Kill the game man, moves like Jada Pinkett/My thought process is thinking above thinking”
12. “RIP to yo dead family/I love you Basedworld for life”