One’s authenticity is currency in rap. It is a fact acknowledged by academics and practitioners alike. Concededly, rap music accepts, if not encourages, certain forms of artificiality: puffery, bravado, self-aggrandizement. But there is a radius of lyrical authenticity that can’t be breached. When Kendrick criticized Drake for offering his fans a neutered version of rap music, and Drake charged Kendrick for cosplaying as an activist, they were both levying charges of musical inauthenticity against one another, the ultimate sin.   

The showdown between Kendrick and Drake also shone a spotlight on personal integrity in rap. At a time where consumers are finding it increasingly difficult to divorce the art from the artist, Kendrick and Drake’s exchanges suggest that there is—or, at the very least, should be—a moral premium in rap. Drake insinuated that Kendrick beat his wife. Kendrick labelled Drake a pedophile. Both artists are canny operators, aware of the tenor of the current moment. Over the past few years, former hip-hop titans, such as R. Kelly and P. Diddy, have been deplatformed for their sexual and violent misconduct (and, in the case of the former, imprisoned). By casting personal aspersions against one another, both Drake and Kendrick were engaging in a strategic process of vilification, using the emerging moral premium in rap to spur the other’s downfall. 

Drake and Kendrick’s feud showed that musical and moral integrity can be prized principles in rap music. Their dialogue also delineated the boundaries of permissible feuding. The first diss tracks had a circumscribed focus: the two artists were the intended targets. The earlier tracks excavated the respective artist’s personal and professional failings, but they did so narrowly and within a delimited range of friendly fire. But Drake widened the aperture in Push Ups. He expressly mentioned Kendrick’s fiancé, Whitney Alford, by name (‘I be with some bodyguards like Whitney’). Drake’s comment marked an inflection point in the beef. Indeed, Kendrick noted this turn in ‘euphoria’ when he issued a warning to Drake: ‘Don’t speak on the family, crodie/ It can get deep in the family, crodie/ Talk about me and my family, crodie?/ Someone gon’ bleed in your family, crodie.’ 

Kendrick’s ‘euphoria’ was thus full of invectives, setting the stage for a more lethal exchange. Drake responded in kind in ‘Family Matters’, but Kendrick ratcheted it up in ‘Meet the Grahams’. ‘Meet the Grahams’ is arguably the most devasting and the most personal track in the feud. Kendrick addresses Drake’s son, mother, and father directly—each family member receives a personalized stanza. The opening line of the song foreshadows the carnage to follow: ‘Dear Adonis / I’m sorry that that man is your father, let me honest.’ 

Just as civilians form a protected class during active hostilities, preventing them from being targeted, a rapper’s family members are also non-targets. Once that ethical perimeter has been breached, the rap battle escalates and anything—and anyone—becomes fair game.