by Tristan Breath

An Advertising major from Norman, Oklahoma, Tristan Breath wrote this essay for Timothy Bradford’s “From Spirituals to Hip-Hop” class.

When my friends and I need to hype ourselves up, we always put on a Megan Thee Stallion song. “Cash Shit” was the go-to for a while, but “Cocky Af” and “Savage” are also constantly in rotation. When you sing lyrics like “Everything about me poppin, Got face, got body, you name it I got it,” it’s hard to feel anything but confidence. Megan Thee Stallion is a self-proclaimed “hot girl” from Houston, Texas, who embodies confidence and swagger. She has enabled a movement of people from all over the world, encouraging them to do “real hot girl shit,” which Megan says is “an embrace of confidence by being unapologetically one’s self, free of self-restricting definitions or labels” (Jennings 2020). But, one day, I got to thinking. Why do I resonate so much with Megan Thee Stallion? After some reflection, I realized that it is pretty simple; she is a confident black woman, and that’s something I’m not used to seeing.

The reality that black women face is difficult to explain to those that do not experience it. The intersection of racism and sexism is a deadly combo. You are met with two groups of people, racists and misogynists, who want to put you down for something you cannot control. The needs and desires of black women are largely ignored, as few people genuinely care about our wellbeing. Our cries for help have echoed through the streets for centuries but have been unheard by those with the resources to support us. I’m sure we’ve all heard of the “ghetto black girl” stereotypes. These stereotypes perpetuate the idea that black women are inherently abrasive and obnoxious. We are depicted in a way that implies that we should not strive to be loud or outspoken; instead, we must be modest and restrained, as not to be like the typical black girl, the obnoxious, outlandish girl that is always the butt of the joke. I remember being taught to be the antithesis of the “ghetto black girl.” That I need to be palatable for those around me. That my mere existence is a threat, so I must make myself as small as possible to comfort my nonblack peers. Those teachings still impact me and the way I carry myself. Because the culture we live in normalizes the silencing of black women, to this day, I still instinctively apologize if I speak too loudly or for too long. The way Megan’s body, music, and attitude are widely discussed is rooted in misogynoir, the specific form of misogyny that only black women experience. Megan pays no attention to these stereotypes and is entirely herself. Through her explicit lyrics and confident demeanor, Megan Thee Stallion illustrates what black womanhood and the black experience can be and what they mean to her.

First, it is important to explore who Megan Thee Stallion really is and how she got here. Many people know her as the illustrious artist she is today, but few know about her roots. People are often proud of where they come from and who they are raised by; these factors also typically influence an artist’s creative process and how they portray themselves. Megan grew up around hip-hop culture, as her mother, Holly Thomas, was a rapper in the late ‘90s and early 2000s. She started writing raps when she was just 14 years old but waited until she was 18 to show her mother her music. Her mother then made her promise not to release it until she was 21, and Megan explained her mother’s reaction to her suggestive lyrics in an interview with XXL, “She was like, ‘Oh hell naw, you ain’t coming out ’til you 21.'” (Seabrook 2018). Megan really shot to fame after a video of a cipher she was a part of went viral. The Youtube comments were filled with praise for Megan, claiming that she was the star of the video. Since then, things have only been going up for her. She signed with Roc Nation, had multiple songs at the top of the charts, won three Grammys, and even released a remix of her song with Beyonce. Megan Thee Stallion is experiencing the textbook definition of success, with a dedicated fanbase that backs her no matter what. But it’s time to look at the reason she has achieved superstar status: her music.

I’ll be breaking down one of my favorite Megan Thee Stallion songs, “Savage.” With 295 million listens on Spotify alone, it is definitely one of her most popular songs. It starts incredibly strong, with the lyrics “I’m that bitch, been that bitch, still that bitch, will forever be that bitch. ” It feels as if Megan wrote them for the fans. Like she wants them to sing along and really believe it. These lyrics aren’t just things Megan believes about herself, but positive affirmations she wants her listeners to say to themselves as well. The song continues with unwavering confidence. The catchy chorus is a favorite of mine “I’m a savage, classy, bougie, ratchet. Sassy, moody, nasty.” And while it feels a little silly to be analyzing lyrics that seem playful and pretty surface level, I really do think this part of the song is her claiming that she is a multi-faceted person. She may typically come off as “a savage,” but there is more to her than that. She can rap about sex and her body, but she can also speak on how the patriarchy allows women to be mistreated constantly. She can do both; it doesn’t have to be one or the other. I think my favorite lyrics in the song are “I need a mop to clean the floor, it’s too much drip, ooh, I keep a knot, I keep a watch, I keep a whip, ooh, Let’s play a game, Simon says I’m still that bitch, ayy, I’m still that bitch, yeah.” The call back to the first line of the song is just too good. She is reclaiming the word “bitch” and making it into a positive label. She’s got a great flow and is so witty with her bars that sometimes they catch me off guard. Through her music, we can also see that Megan is continuing a legacy that many female rappers before her started.

Though men dominate the scene, women have been involved with rap and hip-hop since the beginning. There were trailblazers such as Sha Rock, who was a part of The Funky 4+1 and is labeled as the first female rapper and MC, MC Lyte, who was the first woman to release a solo hip-hop album, and Lisa Lee, who was the only woman in Soulsonic Force, a group founded by Afrika Bambaataa. This is only scratching the surface of the women that laid the foundation for female representation in the rap scene. As the years went on, more and more women started popping up on the scene, everyone bringing their own perspectives and spin on the culture. Most had their own way of addressing the  experience of being a woman in the hip-hop industry. There were artists like Missy Elliott, a true pioneer for not only female rappers but women in the music industry as a whole, who made a point to call out the double standards in her song “She’s A Bitch.” Missy explained the significance of the song and its title in an interview, saying, “Women are not always taken as seriously as we should be, so sometimes we have to put our foot down. To other people that may come across as being a bitch, but it’s just knowing what we want and being confident… You don’t hear people call males bitches.” (Musto 2019). This is especially true for black female artists, who would get labeled as “demanding” or “divas” for having high standards for their craft. The intention behind the song and the lyrics could be paralleled with Megan’s song “Savage” as they are both reclaiming the word “bitch” and labeling themselves as one, rather than having men call them it, in a derogatory sense. While some artists like Missy took what could be described as a feminist stance in their music, other women decided to be bold and go with a “pro-sex” stance, the most notable, in my opinion, being Lil’ Kim. This is not to say that pro-sex is anti-women, but it definitely went against the expectations for female artists at this time; it was shocking, especially with how explicit Lil Kim was. She was confident and brazen with her music, describing her sexual experiences and her sexuality in detail. I believe that Megan can be most closely compared to Lil’ Kim. But it seemed that no matter what the women spoke about in their music, many men both inside and outside of the industry had something negative to say about it. The backlash that those women received can be traced back to misogynoir.

Misogynoir is a term that was created by Moya Bailey, a writer, scholar, and activist. Bailey defines misogynoir as “the uniquely co-constitutive racialized and sexist violence that befalls Black women as a result of their simultaneous and interlocking oppression at the intersection of racial and gender marginalization.” (Bailey). Black women are constantly subject to misogynoir. It is especially evident in the music industry. There are countless stereotypes about black women; like I previously mentioned, the most common is the “ghetto black girl.” These stereotypes perpetuate the idea that black women are not to be taken seriously and are inherently lesser. Misogynoir is deeply ingrained in our society in ways we may not even realize. There has been a lot of discussion about Megan Thee Stallion’s body, with many people making “jokes” about how she was born a man. Statements like those are explicit misogynoir. For centuries, black female bodies have been labeled as unfeminine. However, femininity is typically defined by Eurocentric standards; petiteness, long flowy hair, and light skin. These traits are not something you would typically find in the average black woman. Tricia Rose explores this concept in her book “Black Noise” when she says, “The aesthetic hierarchy of the female body in the mainstream American culture, with particular reference to the behind and hips, positions many black women near the bottom.” (Rose) Critiques of Megan Thee Stallion’s body can also be linked to colorism. She’s considered “dark skin,” and dark skin women have historically been labeled as undesirable. The roots of this label are set in the Mammy stereotype. A Mammy can be defined as “an obese, dark-skinned woman with broad features who worked in the master’s house, often serving as nanny, housekeeper, and cook.” (Tiffany G. Townsend) A Mammy is typically seen as asexual. Though Megan Thee Stallion may not look like the stereotypical Mammy, the implications that darker skin equals undesirableness remain. The Mammy can be contrasted with another racist stereotype, the Jezebel. A Jezebel is “depicted as a “mulatto” woman with light skin and long hair. She is perceived as seductive, manipulative, and unable to control her sexual drives. (Tiffany G. Townsend) This stereotype is extremely harmful, but it is a prime example of colorism. The dark skin woman is nowhere near being considered attractive, while the light skin woman is defined by her desirability. This shows that a lot of mainstream beauty standards for women of color are defined by proximity to whiteness. The black female body is not something that can just be; it is often a source of discourse. One instance of this is the backlash that Megan Thee Stallion receives for being so explicit about her body and her sexuality in her music.

Megan Thee Stallion has received a lot of criticism for the subject matter of her music. “WAP,” her song with Cardi B, caused an extreme amount of uproar. Tucker Carlson, a conservative political commentator, brought up “WAP” on his TV show, saying, “it’s garbage. It’s aimed at young American girls — maybe your girls, your granddaughters and what is it doing to them? Can you imagine what it’s doing to them? People are getting rich pushing that crap on the country and they should be ashamed of themselves.” (Droke) This seems to be a common talking point among those who oppose this type of music: that it will corrupt the nation’s young women. The most outspoken critics of Megan Thee Stallion and artists like her tend to be neoconservative white men. Ben Shapiro is another person that is vocal about his distaste for women who make music about their sexuality. He took the “WAP” lyrics seriously, stating that if women need a bucket and a mop, as mentioned in the song, they probably have a medical condition that needs to get checked out. As I mentioned in the first paragraph, I’m not used to seeing confident black women, and I’m sure many of the people who are criticizing Megan are not used to it either. It can be intimidating in a sense. But not everyone that is criticizing Megan is a conservative man. There are genuine concerns about how Megan could be playing into the hypersexual stereotype that is put on black women. Though I love Megan and her music, I have found myself questioning some of her lyrics. Is overt sexuality the only way to own your body? Do lyrics like “If you in love with your body, bitch take off your clothes” promote the idea that the only way to truly love your body is to constantly show it off? Though this isn’t her intention, it sort of teeters into a territory that would make some feel more comfortable with providing unsolicited comments on her body. Tricia Rose points out this double-edged sword in Black Noise as she states, “Works by black woman rappers that place black women’s bodies in the spotlight have a similarly contradictory effect; they affirm black female beauty and yet often preserve the logic of female sexual objectification.” (Rose) It also feels as if the general public is more responsive to marginalized people acting as their stereotypes suggest they would. Nsenga Burton mentions this dilemma in her dissertation about black female rappers, saying, “Consequently, black female performers must often embody enough of the stereotypical characteristics about the black female body, so that they are palatable to mainstream society.” (Burton) This is a way for people’s prejudiced beliefs to be confirmed. It is an unfortunate truth that we live in a society where women’s acceptance and celebration of their bodies is seen as an invitation for other people to make their own judgments of those bodies. Is there a way for women to be open about their sexuality without receiving people’s unwarranted opinions? I’m not sure if there is an answer to that question, but I do know that Megan Thee Stallion is simply crafting her own narrative through her music.

Though some critiques of her and her music are legitimate, Megan is just stating what her reality is. She likes to show off her body and be sexy, so that’s what she writes about. She doesn’t expect everyone to be able to relate. But some people take everything she says literally and go on to incite fear in others that all women want to use men for their money and then leave them. A lot of fear and judgment come from men, particularly men in the music industry, who did not want to see this switch of the power dynamic. There are thousands of songs by men about their sexual encounters, some being extremely vulgar and explicit. There really wasn’t any discourse or movements to silence these men; in fact, it became expected that men talk about the subject. But once the roles were reversed and women began to speak about their sexuality, they were labeled lewd and inappropriate. Some men used their music to assert their dominance over women, so once a woman came at them with the same energy, it was scary. That is how the patriarchy works: it convinces men that they are entitled to having authority over women–and anytime that authority is threatened, they panic. It is honestly comical to think about how women have endured decades of being degraded through music, being called bitches and hoes, but as soon as the roles are reversed, men start clutching their pearls. I believe that many female rappers have made a conscious effort to call out the double standards that are prevalent within the music industry. Tricia Rose recalls how Salt N’ Pepa’s song “Tramp” flipped the script and called out sexually promiscuous men. To put men in the position women had been in for years was bold, but it sent a strong message.

Megan Thee Stallion is truly killing the rap game. She is using her platform to uplift herself and normalize women talking about sex. In a society that punishes black women for exhibiting any kind of confidence, Megan dares to be herself fully, not allowing anyone to censor her or water her down. To simply exist as a woman in such a male-dominated space and culture is practically a political statement in itself. Misogynoir is deeply ingrained in our culture, and it impacts the general public’s expectations for black women. Megan sticks up for herself and is a consistent advocate for black women. She recognizes the double standards in the music industry and isn’t afraid to call them out. Through her music, Megan Thee Stallion illustrates her experiences as a black woman and encourages others to follow in her footsteps of being confident and getting what they want. I’m happy to witness more black women embracing their inner hot girl; it is long overdue.

Works Cited

Bailey, Moya. MISOGYNOIR TRANSFORMED: Black Womens Digital Resistance. New York University Press, 2021.

Burton, Nsenga K. Traveling without Moving: Hypervisibility and Black Female Rappers, University of Southern California, Ann Arbor, 2005. ProQuest, https://login.ezproxy.lib.ou.edu/login?url=https://www.proquest.com/dissertations-theses/traveling-without-moving-hypervisibility-black/docview/305427064/.

Droke, Carolyn. “Watch Tucker Carlson Lose It Over Cardi B’s ‘WAP’ Lyrics.” UPROXX, UPROXX, 19 Aug. 2020, uproxx.com/music/tucker-carlson-wap-cardi-b/.

Jennings, Kyesha. (2020). “City Girls, hot girls and the re-imagining of Black women in hip hop and digital spaces.” Global Hip Hop Studies. 1. 47-70. https://doi.org/10.1386/ghhs_00004_1.

“MC Lyte.” Hiphop Archive & Research Institute, 23 Jan. 2019, hiphoparchive.org/artists/mc-lyte.

Musto, Michael. “New Again: Missy Elliott.” Interview Magazine, 29 Aug. 2019, www.interviewmagazine.com/music/new-again-missy-elliott.

Rose, Tricia. Black Noise: Rap Music and Black Cultural Resistance in Contemporary American Popular Culture. 1993.

Seabrook, Robby. “The Break Presents: Megan Thee Stallion – XXL.” XXL Mag, XXL, 25 Oct. 2018, www.xxlmag.com/megan-thee-stallion-the-break-interview/.

“Sha-Rock.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 22 Oct. 2020, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sha-Rock.

Stallion, Megan Thee. “Cocky Af.” Spotify.

Stallion, Megan Thee. “Savage.” Spotify.

Stallion, Megan Thee. “Work That.” Spotify.

Townsend, Tiffany G., Torsten B. Neilands, Anita Jones Thomas, and Tiffany R. Jackson (2010). “I’m No Jezebel; I Am Young, Gifted, and Black: Identity, Sexuality, and Black Girls.” Psychology of Women Quarterly, 34(3), 273–285. SAGE Journals, journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1111/j.1471-6402.2010.01574.x.