By Briah Lumpkins
November 12, 2019
I hated rap as kid.
Yet my entire family has always had a proverbial love for rap/hip-hop music.
My mom had a deep love for Tupac. She remembers exactly where she was when she got the news he had been shot. My dad — a dedicated Biggie fan — was her direct rival. Lil Kim, Snoop and Jay-Z were also among the artists that would play throughout my house.
My music taste was solely limited to R&B and soul. At the time, I was dedicated to my faves: Lauryn Hill, Justin Timberlake, and D’Angelo. The thought of cheating on them with another artist outside of the genre was too much for my young self to handle.
For a while, there no rap artist that could hold my interest. Sure, I love the hip-hop classics “Big Poppa,” “No Diggity” and “Hypnotize” for example, but those are only singular songs. There was never an entire hip-hop album that held my interest from start to finish.
That is, until Kanye came around.