

Like any superhero team-up or buddy comedy, the formula for an RTJ song is carved in stone by now: Killer Mike the swaggering priest and El-P sardonic philosopher, threatening R-rated violence and revolutionary action over sounds rescued from hip-hop’s golden era and retrofitted for pre-pandemic festival stages. Jewel Runners / BMG Run the Jewels: “JU$T” It’s a feat that the song exists at all, encapsulating a year in which women have been leading both the statistics and conscience of rap, and even forced conservative talking heads to contend with the extraordinary power of the word “pussy.” –Clover Hope It’s as resonant as it is unreachable: consider that, in a year of fairly learnable TikTok challenges, the dance for “ WAP” asks that you transition from a floor-hump to a windmill split. “WAP” is so decisively absent of shame that it’s now positioned alongside similar anthems by the likes of Khia, Lil’ Kim, and Trina. Megan presumably stands before an appellate court to do so, admitting, “Your Honor, I’m a freak bitch,” while a Cardi verse somehow tributes the unsung uvula amid an imposing tour de force of lecherous metaphors. Over the tremors of a Baltimore club classic, “Whores in This House,” Cardi and Megan forgo euphemisms entirely (“I wanna gag,” etc.) to present an airtight case in favor of women expressing full-bodied lust. Of the many words that could describe their duet-dirty, vulgar, nasty, explicit-none come anywhere close to capturing the attitude of the acronym itself. This wasn’t a mere lyrical double-team, but two women in their career prime overpowering pop with a raw anthem attuned to the very specific frequency of certain pandemic urges the rare instant hit that exists as a trend and future monument.

Atlantic Cardi B: “WAP” Ĭardi B and Megan Thee Stallion rapped such a rich tapestry of filth on “WAP” that it earned a face-breaking 93 million streams in its first week and immediately went No.
