Defenders of those less “lyrical” rappers fall back on the line that when it comes rap, “it’s not what you say but how you say it.” And there’s some truth to that, but lyrical rappers (lyrical does not mean stuff like Immortal Technique by the way) have to say it in a cool way too. That “how you say it” supposition forgets the fact that your favorite rappers’ favorite rapper probably says his lyrical shit pretty awesomely.
Rap’s always about “how you say it”, not in the sense that Jim Jones’ “swagger” makes up for the lyrical turds that fall out of his mouth (although they sometimes do) but rather, taking those extra few moments to properly present an idea makes all the difference. A tale of violence with the right kind of details is no longer another “I shot that dude” song. Scarface knows how to perfectly emote a line, Ghostface can tumble into a cry and then out into a full-speed ahead flow, and Rakim’s poise and confidence—that’s basically “swagger” by the way– perfectly reflect his terse rhymes.
But you already know all this. The reason for parsing out all this is because of the ongoing excitement and discussion about Andre 3000’s year-and-a-half slow build return to proper rapping. Maybe it’s because what Andre says is fairly obvious, but there’s been little discussion or focus on the content of Andre’s verses—especially odd, in light of the crazy and deserved fanfare for ‘Royal Flush’—and exactly what they are doing and saying. Part of it though, I think is because assholes like me spend a lot of time crapping on didactic rappers but are now crapping our pants about super-didactic Andre verses. If we got into the content of those verses, we’d look like big dumb hypocrities. Sort of.
Only “sort of” because what excites and endears so many to Andre’s verses, especially on ‘Royal Flush’ is Andre’s focused and purposeful word-choice, which rubs up against and in some ways, supports his purposefully off-kilter flow: it’s what Andre’s saying, how he spits it, and how he phrases it and that’s you know, the place where most good rap resides.
His lengthy verse on ‘Royal Flush’ is an especially interesting case of the what you say/how you say it divide because the verse is an exercise in style, and pointed, “conscious” rapper teaching. Not that those two things haven’t co-existed in rap before, but Andre’s past eighteen months of lecture raps occupy a weird place between that divide. Joey from Straight Bangin’ referred to it as Andre taking “a whimsical approach to some serious shit”, and he’s right. There’s a level of modesty and approachability to the way Andre chooses to say some “the teacher” type shit that doesn’t make the listener feel condescended to. Additionally, his instructions never fall-back on simple-minded answers.
Quite a few people have joked about how Big Boi and Raekwon drop a solid 16 while Andre rambles and fumbles for nearly half the song. Of course, that’s sort of the point. Big Boi and Rae come in quick and confident, Andre’s sort of stumbling and moving through his thoughts, trying to qualify and perfect his message as he says it. Andre’s verse is an experience, you’re traveling through his brain as he basically ponders some super-complicated shit about crime, what leads people to it, community, the double-bind of making money and lots of other stuff. Anyone listening who is angered by the rambling nature of the verse should recall the ‘Throw Some Ds’ remix where he talks about the “boys in blue” busting in and how “We act like we run track/Then we run straight to the back/But they’re coming from the back/So we run back to the front” which properly presents the chaos of running from the police and turns Andre’s rambling style into a physical description. Or think back to the song ‘Aquemini’ when Andre apologizes: “I’m sorry y’all/I often drift…”. One of Andre’s best assets is his disinterest in a tight 16 bars…
On ‘Royal Flush’, the rambling nature reminds me of some of the humanity and sensitivity one sees when they watch Barack Obama debate, as he pauses for a moment, or stops and dips back a few lines to correct himself, more interested in getting the exact thoughts in his head to the microphone than a quick political catchphrase (or hot line, if you will). There’s just a heightened level of awareness to Andre’s recent verses and even if it’s a little too self-conscious, it’s well-handled and sincere enough that no one should really be shitting on it.
One of the best word choices in when he discusses the oft-discussed nature of “the streets”—but it really applies to anyone who makes it out of any economically-fucked environment—and how “it’s unfortunate that if you come up fortunate/The streets consider you lame.” It’s some Andre wordplay, bouncing unfortunate and fortunate back and forth, but it’s also something of a response to the Jeezys and other rappers who rap about “haters” and have a very ME-centric take on why they’re no longer on the corner (their reason: I worked hard all by myself to get out). Andre’s calling his ability to move-out as “fortune” downplays his ego and points towards one reality of success that no one wants to face: A lot of it’s luck. Plenty of better rappers and better drug dealers never make it out and plenty of computer geniuses never become Bill Gates, you know? The concept of “luck” also undermines free-market and Capitalistic dogma about fairness and everyone having the potential that crack-rap further supports, but that’s a whole other post…
Andre also touches upon the other reality that hard-ass rappers like to pretend doesn’t exist: need. “Go show them that we’re more than slangin’ raw/That’s when I broke into my Big Rube impression/And I tried to enlighten/But that night I learned a lesson/That that morals that you think you got go out the window/When all the other kids are fresh and they got new Nintendo/ Wiis and your child is down on her knees/Praying hard up to God for a Whopper with cheese”.
Words like “hungry” and “driven” are just euphemisms for the more vulnerable word “need”. A word like “hungry” downplays the necessity of the thing well, needed, and makes it sound like something one has of their own accord, decided is important. It misplaces basic, vulnerable emotions and tries to pass them off as capitalistic desire. These words are really played around with in fun ways, by framing the contrast between those that have and don’t have through funny pop-culture references (the Wii, a Whopper). Maybe it’s a stretch but the use of food certainly feels like a direct reference and/or joke on rappers talking about how “hungry” they were for a record deal. Fuck a record deal, the kid in the song is literally hungry.
Andre The Teacher permeates the song but plenty of lines and that overall “whimsy” move it away from being an old-ass rapper bitching to you. The same way a curmudgeonly line like “Your white-T/Looks to me/More like a nightgown” (from the ‘Walk It Out’ Remix) is saved by being a totally killer battle-rap line, Andre’s attitude on ‘Royal Flush’ prevents it from being a simple indictment of “the system” and or justification of the drug-dealers’ complacent pseudo-protest. We hear songs all the time from dudes who got sick of the way things were going and had the balls (and amorality) to start dealing, but we’ve heard enough of them. Andre’s verse is for those people in the same position that have the morals (and lack the balls) to start dealing. The reality is, “the streets” are more filled with people like that.
He concisely and entertainingly nails the place that need and the desire to commit crime come from, but doesn’t totally justify it. Biggie half-parodied his desires (and needs) on the song ‘Ready to Die’ when he rapped “My mother didn’t give me what I want, what the fuck?” and here, by taking an outsider view, Andre further articulates those feelings by not (or no longer) having them. There’s no way of mistaking the Andre’s descriptions for his rap character, while Biggie’s balancing a persona, a critique, and confession. Generally, the complexity of Biggie is preferred, but there’s a brilliance to Andre’s near-third-person rap-narration.
Andre even as he partially stands above teaching the listeners, he takes a few swipes at moral absolutism (the bane of conscious rap’s existence) and adds some empathy by qualifying the line about the morals that one has as, “the morals that you think you got”. Often, people will phrase negative actions in the sense of abandoning their morals, but the reality as Andre points out is, those were only morals you thought you had. If you really had them, you wouldn’t have done it! That makes it sounds as if he’s critiquing these people but he’s not. What he’s doing is suggesting that no one actually has these morals all the time; we’re all apt to rob, steal, etc. if we need or think we need to do it to survive (or get a new fresh pair of shoes). It’s a complex and partially muddled sense of empathy, but that’s what empathy is in a sense.
Go back through your Outkast CDs and think of how many times in one way or another, Andre demands listeners to empathize, to put their feet in his or someone else’s shoes. These newer verses, particularly the instructive ‘Royal Flush’ are further extensions of the warm-hearted anger and teaching Outkast have always done. Recent lines and verses parallel past instructive lines and just make them a little more obvious, but kinder as well. “No wonder they call it the trap” he muses on ‘Royal Flush’ and it reflects the angered, possessed Andre who called-out on ‘Y’all Scared’: “Have you ever thought of the meaning of the word trap?”. His anger with file-sharing and fans’ misunderstanding of the music business is touched upon on the Devin the Dude ‘What a Job’ remix, but it first came up back on ‘Elevators’: “I replied, that I’d been going through the same thing that he had/True, I got more fans than the average man but not enough loot to/Last me to the end of the week/I live by the beat like you live check to check/If you don’t move your feet then I don’t eat/ so we like neck to neck”.
Most rappers, be their persona unfuckwithable drug dealer or all-knowing, angry, political emcee, stand above or away from their listeners and the average person. Note how in that ‘Elevators’ verse, Andre’s interests are more as to what he has in common with his fan than how he is different. This is the key to what makes the ‘Royal Flush’ verse so entertaining, affecting, and even thought-provoking. It does not stand away from its listeners, even when it’s teaching.
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