A Kinder, Gentler Rap?

When Don Imus casually dubbed the Rutger University women's basketball team "nappy-headed hos" earlier this year, it not only cost the shock jock his job, it ignited an unexpectedly ferocious debate in the hip-hop world about the power of words. One of the ironic aftershocks of Imus' career-stunting comments is that it took a white man using racial slurs to successfully draw attention to the fact that the hip-hop community has been doing the same thing for years with impunity.

While there have been some attempts to shine a spotlight on rap's problematic content in the past, none of those efforts ever seemed to affect much real or lasting change. Now some of the biggest names in the industry have begun to consider a shift in the status quo. Russell Simmons, co-founder of Def Jam Recordings, recently declared that it's time for rappers to say goodbye to "extreme curse words," the umbrella term he used for the demeaning epithets "b--ch," "ho" and "n-gger." Speaking at his Hip-Hop Summit Action Network, Simmons said of those words, "We recommend [they're] always out. This is a first step. It's a clear message and a consistency that we want the industry to accept for more corporate responsibility."

Predictably, some of the hip-hop game's biggest names have brushed off pressure from peers to clean up their act. Reflecting the attitude of many rappers, 50 Cent says, "[Critics] forget that the art form is a mirror, and what we're writing is a reflection of where we grew up." Snoop Dogg takes this defense of misogyny a step further, essentially arguing that many women in the 'hood are worthless and deserve to be treated as such. "We're talking about hos that's in the 'hood that ain't doing s---, that's trying to get a n-gga for his money." And Twista cuts to the chase when he questions whether clean lyrics will yield the bling he's grown accustomed to. "It would have to pay something real strong to make me change the way I do my music," he says.

On the other hand, a couple of high-profile rap artists have begun to heed the call for change. Jamaican-raised 17-year-old Sean Kingston and Houston rapper Chamillionaire are among those who've decided to tone down the profanity on their newest releases. I've recently listened to both with an ear toward discerning just how deep this commitment to kinder, gentler lyrics really goes.

Owning Their Influence
50 Cent told Spin magazine in July, "The kids know the difference between entertainment and reality." He refuses to entertain the idea that his music might actually influence listeners. But both Sean Kingston and Chamillionaire have realized that their songs shape young fans' attitudes.

Kingston's official Web bio says that he understands his "responsibility to fans," and he comments, "With this album [a self-titled debut], I thought it was important not to use curse words or negative language that might offend people. I write my own songs, so it's like if I can write a great track without using these words, then that's the style for me." It's a style that's connecting with fans, as the singer's current hit "Beautiful Girls" just spent two weeks atop the charts.

Chamillionaire is a more established player in the hip-hop world. Last year, his No.1 smash "Ridin'" (a song critical of police profiling and the inspiration for Weird Al Yankovic's parody "White and Nerdy") propelled his debut album The Sound of Revenge to platinum status. But the rapper says that as he watched fans sing his lyrics, he realized the songs were actually mentoring them in racism.

"The bigger I got as an artist," he says, "the more my shows would be packed, and the more white kids would show up. And when you have a record that crossed all formats like 'Ridin' Dirty' did, you can go and perform anywhere, and it's these big arenas packed with white kids. I'd be performing my lyrics, and right when I get to the n-word and look at the crowd, they'll be saying it. [So] I'm like, I don't want to be training them to say it, so I'm not gonna do it for that reason."

What's Left After Editing
To hear these artists talk, then, you'd think that their albums have been scrubbed squeaky clean. To be sure, most foul language has been trimmed away—including references to "b--ches" and "hos," as well as most uses of the n-word. But neither Kingston nor Chamillionaire eschew profanity completely. Kingston apparently doesn't think the words "h---" and "d--n" qualify as curse words, because they pop up about half-a-dozen times—along with one partially censored interjection of "bulls---." Similar words turn up about the same number of times on Chamillionaire's Ultimate Victory. One instance of "a--" gets through as well, and the rapper abbreviates the f-word twice (as in, "Used to not give a flying eff"). Another half-dozen or so obscenities by guest rappers (including a couple n-words) get bleeped.

By hip-hop standards, getting the profanity count this low is a major step; both artists deserve credit for moving in the right direction. But bad language is just one of the bad habits hip-hop has indulged for years. When we look at these two artists' overall attitudes toward women, casual sex, drug references and materialism, there's far less to praise.

Seventeen-year-old Kingston comes across as a practiced—and promiscuous—club vet as he shamelessly ogles girls' backsides and fantasizes about bedding them in "Got No Shorty." Elsewhere, a kiss goodnight degenerates into his date groping him ("There's Nothing"), and Kingston begs another man's girl to hook up with him for a one-night stand ("I Can Feel It"). Add in sympathetic references to hustling drugs on the street ("Dry Your Eyes") and sipping drinks on the beach ("Take You There"), and you begin to question just how seriously young Mr. Kingston takes his "responsibility to his fans" and his intent not to offend.

Likewise, Chamillionaire may have backed off the f-bomb, but other problematic attitudes and activities take a bow on Ultimate Victory. Sexual allusions include references to strippers, a prostitute, skinny dipping, nude photos in fan e-mails, lesbianism and explicit mentions of both male and female orgasms. Marijuana gets smoked and sold, Patron gets sipped and Chamillionaire's Beretta gets locked and loaded ... just in case.

One Small Step for Hip-Hop ...
When 50 Cent heard about Chamillionaire's newfound commitment to back off bad words, he decided to fill the vacuum by venting, "Let him go sell gospel records if he's so f---in' righteous."

Hmmm. Righteous isn't the phrase I'd choose to describe the songs on either of these new albums. Sean Kingston recently said to an interviewer about profanity in his songs, "People don't want to hear that from a kid." If that's true, it stands to reason they probably don't want to hear about an underage adolescent prowling clubs looking for just the right fat-bottomed girl to invite home for a one-night romp either.

It's going to take more than just sweating the swearing to clean up rap's act. A step in the right direction? Yes. But the hip-hop world has a long way yet to go when it comes to continuing—let alone completing—the journey Kingston and Chamillionaire have only just begun.