There is also the idea that “hip-hop must be a representation of the ghetto in order to be authentic,” which serves as a defense mechanism. There is an inherent rejection of mainstream society, the same mainstream society that has marginalized individuals from the ghetto. Murray Forman (2002) and Byron Hurt (2006) suggest that the importance and celebration of ghetto representation in hip-hop comes from a lack of real power, and any power and strength one has is limited to within the ghetto and is not transferable. Mbali Langa suggests that artists attempt to “reclaim the word ‘ghetto’ as a marker of power and identity” (2010, 30). During an interview with South African emcee Yugen Blakrok, she expressed a similar sentiment, suggesting that in the face of the racism keeping Blacks out of the nicer areas, Black youth developed kasi identities that actually espouse an insincere preference for ghetto life.
Kembrew McLeod’s 1999 study of hip-hop authenticity concludes that authentic hip-hop means representing yourself, your reality, and your culture, especially underground and urban cultures. It also includes understanding “hip-hop’s cultural legacy” and core values. These ideas of hip-hop authenticity have been discussed by several authors (Forman 2002; S. Watkins 2005; Pennycook 2007; Hess 2009; Weiss 2009). Research examining hip-hop outside the United States has also addressed the topics of authenticity and representation within local hip-hop communities. Brad Weiss’s (2009) research on Tanzania, Christopher Dennis’s (2011) work on Afro-Colombian rap, Usama Kahf’s (2011) look at Arabic hip-hop, and Caroline Mose’s (2014) examination of hip-hop in Kenya are examples. In a project on hip-hop in Sierra Leone, Abdul Fofanah of the Moving to the Beat project discusses how “a progressive hip-hop identity centers on understanding its own historical roots” (Haaken, Wallin-Ruschman, and Patange 2012, 67). Fofanah goes on to discuss the importance of representing the streets, in embracing a global Black identity in which the marginalized have a voice (Haaken, Wallin-Ruschman, Patange 2012). Klara Boyer-Rossol (2014) finds similar sentiments among many hip-hop artists in Madagascar who she said had adopted a “Makoa” identity. The Makoa are descendants of the enslaved Africans brought to Madagascar who settled on the eastern coast of the island (Dina 2001; Boyer-Rossol 2014). Madagascar is a country whose population is a mix of the African and Asian settlers who came to the island, and as a result, among the population one finds a mixture of features that reveal these African and Asian origins. Thus, claiming a Makoa identity establishes the connection of these artists to a global Black identity. This claim of authenticity and Black identity is further emphasized when considering their claimed distinction from artists from the western part of the island, who are said to be descendants of Asian migrants to the island (Boyer-Rossol 2014).
In the 2006 track “Soldados Civis,” the Angolan hip-hop group Kalibrados declares how they view and represent hip-hop:
RAP is attitude
. . .
Potent rhymes over fat beats
Waited too long
Now it’s our turn
. . .
This is our love
And we take it personally
We heard
Want your respect
Criticize the country for the good of the nation
Our baggy pants is a matter of identification
We don’t use uniforms but fight for the country
Guerrillas out of the woods
Civilian soldiers
Guerrillas out of the woods
Civilian soldiers.1
Representation in hip-hop allows artists to speak to a certain set of experiences and to “link an artist to a tradition of hip-hop from that region” (Hess 2009, xiv). While the ideal of keeping it real is important in hip-hop, what is “real” is not defined the same globally, and is dependent on local contexts. An additional consideration in hip-hop authenticity is hip-hop rhymes. Representation refers to the content of an artist’s lyrics, but hip-hop music, like other genres, has rules and structures that distinguish it from other musics. Hip-hop music is defined by the presence of specific rhyme structures, and in order to differentiate hip-hop, and understand hip-hop lyricism, we need to look at hip-hop rhyme schemes.
Hip-Hop Flows and Rhyme Schemes
Emcees all around the world are diverse, and they utilize various rhyme styles and patterns in their lyrics. Rhyme patterns, or flows, can be performed over almost any type of music or beat, though there are distinct hip-hop beats. Hip-hop beats are often dominated by a heavy bass, music samples, and repetitive break beats. Many African artists rely on either hip-hop or African beats, which can share similar drum patterns.
Hip-hop’s emphasis on rhyming “distinguishes it from almost every other form of contemporary music and from most contemporary literary poetry” (Bradley 2009, 51). The rhyme techniques and creativity are the primary determiners of an emcee’s skill. But, unlike in other genres of music, hip-hop artists are expected to write their own rhymes. A hip-hop rhyme reflects both the thoughts and observations of the individual artist and a display of their lyrical prowess. Many genres of music have professional lyricists, but in hip-hop the focus is less on the ability to sing or play an instrument than on the ability to write rhymes. This is why the hip-hop cypher, or freestyle battle—in which artists are supposed to come up with their rhymes on the spot—is an important tradition in hip-hop culture.
Besides authenticity in content, in hip-hop authenticity in style is also important. There have been innovations in hip-hop lyricism, but an emcee’s rap rhythm and flows are often cited as key (Alim 2006; Bradley 2009). Adam Bradley says it is rap’s relationship to “lyric poetry” that distinguishes it from other genres. He points to “the dual rhythmic relationship between the beat of the drums and the flow of the voice” (2009, 31). H. Samy Alim defines the flow as “the relationship between the beats and the rhymes in time” (2006, 95). Alim (2006) says an artists flow must have a recognizable pattern, while the bars or lines must have recognizable rhyme patterns. For example, Alim (2003) looks at the multiple rhyme strategies used by American hiphop lyricist Pharoahe Monch, in order to distinguish hip-hop lyricists from lyricists of other genres. Bradley (2009) points out that pop singers match their lyrics to the rhythm of the music, as well as to certain melodies and harmonies. Pop singers harmonize their voices with the musical melody. For groups, or individual artists using background singers, everyone’s voice needs to harmonize together, as well as with the musical melody. This harmonization is not an element of hip-hop, primarily because hip-hop does not necessarily involve singing. Even in collaborations between hip-hop artists and singers, the singing on a song may harmonize with the music, while the rap portion focuses on being in step with the beat. We see a range of collaboration styles in songs such as “Call Waiting” with Ghanaian rapper Blitz the Ambassador and renowned Beninese singer Angélique Kidjo, “Gunshot” with Ghanaian rapper Sarkodie and Nigerian Afropop singer Davido, or “Juhudu za Masiojiweza” with Tanzanian rapper Fid Q and legendary Tanzanian taarab singer Bi Kidude. In each, the singing is in harmony with the music, while the rap is performed in time with the beat.
In addition to style and rhythm of flow, there are several rhyming patterns found in hip-hop lyrics, and it is useful to have a basic understanding of some of the rhyme patterns often used in hip-hop,