Music Review: Bobby Shmurda "Hot N****"

Bobby Shmurda

Hot N****

Album: Shmurda She Wrote EP

Year: 2013

            Bobby Shmurda lives a life of crime in the rabid  “Hot N*****.”

       Urgent sirens wail, setting a dangerous tone.  The man lies down on the ground. Shmurda tucks his gun back inside his jeans. He comments that the guy he murdered was spinning like a ballerina before he fell. All of his boys have shot and killed several people. Afterwards, he meets up with his girl and has sex. Sex is all he needs from women. He makes ton of money selling drugs. He’s a pro at it. A dealer picked him up when he was ten and taught him everything he knows. He can buy from his own supply and still have enough to sell. Women like to see his fancy cars and his jewelry. They run to him. His parents raised him to be tough. If he cried, she would slap him until he stopped. His father hit his mother which led him to be put in jail. He and his boys decide to go out and shoot their rivals. It’s noon and they are driving their car around the neighborhood, letting the bullets fly. (“And Chewy, I'm some hot ******/Like I talk to Shyste when I shot *****/Like you seen him twirl then he drop, *****/And we keep them nine millis on my block, *****/And Monte keep it on him, he done dropped ******/And Trigger he be wilding, he some hot *****/Tones known to get busy with them Glocks, ******/Try to run down and you can catch a shot, *****/Running through these checks 'til I pass out/And shorty give me neck 'til I pass out/I swear to God, all I do is cash out/And if you ain't a ho, get up out my trap house/I been selling crack since like the fifth grade/Really never made no difference what the shit made/Jaja taught me flip them packs and how to maintain/Get that money back and spend it on the same thing/Shawty like the way that I ball out/I be getting money 'til I fall out/You talking cash, dog, I goes all out/Shorty love the way that I floss out/Free Greezy though, let all of my dogs out/Momma said no pussy cats inside my doghouse/That's what got my daddy locked up in the dog pound/Free Phantom though, let all of my dogs out/We gon' pull up in that hooptie like we cops on 'em/With M16s, we gon' put some shots on him/I send a little thot to send the drop on him/She gon' call me up and I'm a sick the hots on him/Grimey savage, that's what we are/Grimey shooters dressed in G-Star, GS9, I go so hard/But GS for my gun squad/And bitch if it's a problem we gon' gun brawl/Shots popping out the AR/I'm with Trigger, I'm with Rasha, I'm with A-Raw/Broad daylight and we gon' let them things bark/Tell them ****** free Meeshie, ho/Some way, free Breezy, ho/And tell my ****** Shmurda teaming, ho/Mitch caught a body 'bout a week ago, week ago/Fuck with us and then we tweaking, ho/Run up on that ******, get to squeezing, ho/Everybody catching bullet holes/******* got me on my bully, yo/I'm a run up, put that gun on 'em/I'm a run up, go dumb on 'em/****** got me on that young shit/Got me on that go dumb shit.”)

           In the final section, he goes into the kitchen cabinet and fills an entire glass of cough syrup. (“Got me on that go dumb shit, man/Trap mode in this ***********, hotter than a bitch/Ayo, pour up, I need some more drank.”)

           Shmurda’s crawling rap hardly gains any momentum. He’s still a little G thinking he’s Pac. He’s a psychopath, bragging about his murders as though it’s dollar bills. It’s sickening to see human life devalued in such way to sell records. Tupac Shakur and the Notorious B.I.G. were successful in the genre for building larger-than-life personas and compelling stories. There was also a strong sense of humanity that existed in their music, despite the violence.

          The archaic “Hot N*****” thinks gangsta rap is only about going on barbarous rampages.