1 G. J. Giddings, Afrocentric Jay-Z…” 2018 Afroce.docx

1 G. J. Giddings, “Afrocentric Jay-Z…” 2018
Afrocentric Jay-Z: Africanisms in Black Culture
G. Jahwara Giddings, Ph.D.
Central State University
Introduction
“Do you fools listen to music or do you just skim through it?”
Jay-Z & Eminem 2001
“I don’t know what you take me as, or understand the
intelligence that Jay-Z has.” Jay-Z 2003

Mostly disparaged because misunderstood, Hip-hop needs to be
analyzed for its positive
role in Black and American cultures. As arguably the most
accomplished Hip-hop emcee, Jay-
Z’s body of works illustrates the most compelling, yet
misunderstood, feature of Black American
culture – its Africanisms. Explored herein are Jay-Z’s 20 studio
album oeuvre which places him
in the pantheon of African-American creative cultural agents,
which includes Winton Marsalis,
Toni Morrison, Sonya Sanchez, and August Wilson, et al. In
fact, Jay-Z enables a new
framework for analyzing and understanding the value of
American Hip-hop, based on Black
cultural nationalist theories advanced by Larry Neal (2000),
Amiri Baraka (1991), August
Wilson (1996), Melville Herskovits (1959), Maulana Karenga
(2008) Kariamu Welsh-Asante
(1993), Marimba Ani (1993), and G. Jahwara Giddings (2003,
2010).
An artist of Jay-Z’s stature as the most accomplished –
wealthiest and the most decorated
emcee ever - naturally shapes how we see and understand this
art sustained through generations

of innovation. Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington and Billie
Holiday’s musicianship and cultural
authenticity made them immortal Jazz innovators; Charlie
Parker’s conscientious genius
innovated and forged Bebop; Sam Cook, Ray Charles, Aretha
Franklin, Otis Redding, Marvin
Gay, et al. generated rhythm and blues through Gospel music;
then Bob Marley’s revolutionary
pan-Africanism passed the torch to his Jamaican compatriot
Kool DJ Herk (Clive Campbell),
who helped create the Hip-hop genre which spawns cultural and
market forces across three
generations while sustaining Africanisms or African culture in
America.
Although geographically vast and very diverse with some 2,000
languages, there is
surprising cultural unity among the 1.2 billion people of
Africa. The migration of Bantu
speakers from West Africa, moving south and east helps explain
why 75% of Africa’s 2,000
languages belong to the Niger-Congo linguistic family, with the
other 25% belonging to just
three other linguistic groups – Nilo-saharan, Khosian and Afro-
Asiatic. The cultural unity of

Africa is illustrated by widely shared traditions such as high
value or veneration of ancestors,
elders, and motherhood, the Queen Mother political office,
inseparability of spiritual and secular
realms, matrilineal family organization, bride-wealth practices,
and oral record keeping, and
dynamic communication scripts such as Adkinkra and Kente.
(Diop 1989, Some, 1994) Malcolm
Gladwell’s (2011) analysis of the Scott-Irish roots of a ‘culture
of honor” among many
southerners, concludes that “cultural legacies are powerful
forces” with “deep roots and long
lives,” persisting through generations.
Similarly, core cultural impulses, or epic memory, compel many
African descendant
artists to inherit, negotiate, innovate, and perpetuate
Africanisms or African culture across
generations. In Hip-hop, these impulses are expressed through
imperatives and questions such as
“are you keepin’ it real?,” “who killed Hip-hop?,” and “are you
an artist or entertainer?” as Hip-

hop is pushed and pulled in many directions by fans, critics,
markets, and evolving norms. These
tensions are essential for understanding the significance of Jay-
Z to Black or African American
cultures. Since we assume here that Black culture is a derivative
of African cultures, let us admit
too that Africa is a conceptual invention, and thus subject to
ongoing innovation. In fact,
historian James Sidbury (2007) argues that the idea of “Africa”
was created by socio-historic
efforts of earnest African descendants within varied areas of the
vast African Diaspora. The
reality of Blacks africanizing the U.S. is well documented and
continues today in several ways,
including Hip-hop, where Jay-Z’s artistry is an exemplum.
Jay-Z’s stature places him at the center of debates on how Hip-
hop helps to sustain
African culture in America. Consciously or not, Jay-Z’s twenty
two albums oeuvre engages
themes, concerns and conventions that are at the heart of
Africanist cultures in Black
communities. Jay-Z’s talents, professionalism, and fidelity to
Hip-hop aesthetics beg for

analysis of its relationship to Black core cultural
traditions/values or Africanisms, which
Giddings (2003) coined as oral, communal, spiritual and
matrifocal. These Africanisms help us
to at least begin exploring Jay-Z’s place in the pantheon of
African American cultural agents.
Chief among barriers to appreciating the importance of
Hip-hop in general and emcees
such as Jay-Z in particular, is white America’s alienation from
Black life and culture, as seen in
the myopic mass media critiques of Bill O’Reilly, Bill Cosby,
and the late C. Delores Tucker.
Whites are not “woke” to Black realities and culture due to the
legacy of American segregation,
the dynamics of which Toni Morrison (1993:4) illustrates in her
sketch of a pre-1960s Black
community, where a white “valley man” entering such a
segregated world, as an outsider, to
collect insurance premiums or such, might:
…see a dark woman in a flowered dress doing a bit of a
cakewalk, a bit
of black bottom, a bit of “messing around” to the lively note of
a mouth
organ. Her bare feet would raise the saffron dust that floated

down on
the coveralls of the bunion-split shoes of the man breathing
music in and
out of his harmonica. The Black people watching her would
laugh and
rub their knees, and it would be easy for the valley man to hear
the
laughter and not notice the adult pain that rested somewhere
under the
eyelids, somewhere under their head rags, …somewhere in the
palm of
the hand, somewhere behind the frayed lapels, somewhere in the
sinew’s
curve. He’d have to stand in the back of Greater St. Matthews
and let the
tenor’s voice dress him in silk, or touch the hands of the spoon
carvers
(who had not worked in eight years) and let the fingers that
danced on
wood kiss his skin. Otherwise, the pain would escape him, even
though

the laughter was part of the pain … that could even describe and
explain
how they came to be where they were. (author’s emphases)
WORD!
“They’re few writers in my cipher” Jay-Z, 2009
“If I can’t live by my word, then I’d much rather die” Jay-Z,
2009
Of the Black core values carried from Africa, preserved within
a once segregated and still
somewhat self-contained African-America, the most familiar is
the oral tradition. This
preference for oral (over written) communicative forms finds
axiological expression in hip-hop
aesthetics. (Giddings, 2003) Jay-Z’s emcee prowess, and
preference for free-style even at
recording sessions, illustrates the oral tradition. Free-style
facilitates sincerity, spontaneity,
improvisation, realness, truth, and even spiritual engagement.
Commitment to free-style allows
Jay-Z to convey sincerity and authenticity. His relaxed style or
swag even makes his claim of

having the ‘hottest chick in the game” seem more than mere
emcee braggadocio. Still, beyond
his blessings of a sustainable power marriage and growing
wealth, Jay’s unique swag is seen also
in his gift or knack for spiting phrases which in the mouth of
most other emcees would not land
the same, especially so in a career where coolness is currency.
Few rappers can get away with
gushing over their mother’s cameo on their album, especially
cooing about how at age four,
“Shawn … taught his self how to ride a bike – a two wheel at
that, isn’t that special?!” And at the
end of which Jay (2003) exclaims, “Mom, you made the album,
how crazy is that” Such an
unusual, yet matrifocal, expression is par for the course with a
litany of maverick emcee phrases
and references such as:
… Jaybo …welcome to Jay-Z’s poetry readin’ … sounds so
soulful, don’t you agree? …
actin’ all nonchalant ‘front of an audience … this is a public
service announcement … I
mastered my aesthetics/I know you often heard me was poetic
… this an unusual musical
I’m conducting … l’album noir … am the Sinatra of my day, old

blue eye my Nigga, I did
it my way!… in layman’s terms … James Dean ... dyin’ young,
leavin’ a good-lookin’
corpse … you got a daughter, gotta get softer... foreplay in the
foyer … ain’t trying to be
facetious …faux nigga …she’s a lesbian/had to pretend so long
she is a thespian … with
that in the egg shell …nothing succeeds like excess… thanks
everybody out there for their
purchase … you’re far too kind … meteoric rise …
This seems part of Jay-Z’s unique manner of operating within
Hip-hop’s imperative of an emcee
or MC, as a “microphone commando” who “moves the crowd,”
in keeping with conventional
master of ceremony’s clear, authoritative, and effective speech
events. As such, the free-style
oral tradition demands honesty, sincerity and authenticity. To
effectively explain this tradition,
Marimba Ani (1993) expanded the conceptualization of
aesthetics to include kugusa mtima (“to
move the heart in Ki-Swahili) as more appropriate for Black
peoples’ creativity and beauty.

Fittingly, Jay-Z (2004A) brags that: “first I snatched the streets,
then I snatched the charts/First I
had their ears, now I have their heart.” In fact, Jay-Z’s attention
to audience is well illustrated in
his MTV Unplugged (2001) live album, where he periodically
gauges, on a 10 points scale, his
audience’s energy level throughout the performance, even
directing the crowd’s energy by
instigating each side of the room against the other, and reveling
in his violation of an MTV
broadcast rule, all in the name of maximum improvisational
connection with his audience, who
karaoked his lyrics which they know by heart.
Expectedly, live concerts and ciphers are ideal venues for
seeing the oral tradition in
action. Born of conventions, protocols, and practices that
facilitate classical non-literary
communication, the oral tradition also facilitates new
expressions that still affirm West-African
grammar kugusa mtima values. Such conventions include
rhyming, repetition, tonal play,
compression, contractions or minimalism, and other means of

aiding memorization,
improvisation and efficacy. Allsopp (1997:xlvii)) describes the
“[c]reole economy of expression
which maximizes the use of the stock of vocabulary … by the
device of functional shift or
‘conversion.’” For example, the creation and use of transitive
verbs serve the goal of minimalist
and efficient wordsmithing as follows:
Everybody’s like, “He’s no item, please don’t like him,
He don’t wife ‘em, he one-nights them!” (2002, “Excuse Me
Miss”)
…too old to be frontin’ what am feelin’
Denzelin’ and actin’ like you not appealing when you are
Stepin’ like you not my only girl, when you are (Pharrell 2003,
“Frontin’”)
I ain’t a new jack
nobody gon’ Wesley Snipe me, (2009, “Change Clothes”)
Till we all without sin, let’s quit the pulpitin’ (2007, “Ignorant
Shit”)
Ya’ll think small, I think Biggie! (2017, “Family Feud”)

These oral tradition conventions are at Hip-hop’s aesthetic core.
Jay-Z’s poetics, replete with
masterful humor and irony, employ, innovate and thus sustain
this kugusa mtima legacy. A small
sample of Jay’s wordsmithing reveals this mastery:
I sell ice in the winter, I sell fire in hell
I am a hustler baby, I'll sell water to a well (2001, “You Don’t
Know”)
Cats all feta, cause I got a little cheddar …
Bird ass niggas, I don’t mean to ruffle y’all
I know you waiting in the wings, but am doing my thing.
(2001, “Heart of the City/Ain’t No Love”)
Love, let's go half on a son,
I know my past ain't one you can easily get past,
but that chapter is done (2002, “Excuse Me Miss”)
My name is Hove, H to the OV
I used to sell snowflakes by the Oz (2003, Public Service
Announcement)

It’s inevitable,
Now you’re (falling)
When you should’ve scaled back,
Now you’re (falling)
Right into their lap …
Now you’re tumbling, it’s humbling,
you’re falling, you’re mumbling
under your breath, like you knew this day was coming (falling)
Now let’s pray that arm-candy
that you left your Ex for, stay “down” and come in handy
(2007, “Falling”)
No am not a Jonas
brother am a grownup
No am not a virgin
I use my cojones. (2009, “On to the Next One”)
Niggas make the same shit,
Me, I make the blueprint
Every year since, I’ve been on the next shit
Traded in a gold for the platinum Rolexes

Now a Niggas’ wrist match the status of my records (2009, “On
to The Next One”)
I said, save the narrative that you savin’ it marriage
Keep it real ma, you savin’ it for carriage (2007. “I Just Wanna
Love You/Give it To Me”)
For some immigrants
Build your fences, we diggin' tunnels
Can't you see, we gettin' money up under you? (2011, “Otis”)
Jay-Z (2009) conscientiously asserts a Griot or Djeli swag and
status in claiming he is the
“only rapper to re-write history without a pen/ No I.D. on the
track, let the story begin.” Here, he
evokes, via double entendre, the ephemeral, ethereal, character
of the oral tradition by alluding to
an untraceable owner or authorship. Of course, effectively
affirmed here is the communalism of
ambivalent ownership of such entities as words, rhymes and
beats which are often borrowed,
sampled and collaborated, and in this case that of producer No
I.D. Also apparent from the list
above is Jay’s mandatory assertion of Djeli-like authority, but
which might be seen only as mere

emcee braggadocio. But a closer and critical afrocentric
reading suggests the Africanist legacy
at work.
THE HOOD
“…hold your applause, this is your song, not mine” Jay-Z 2007
“…I’m tryin’ to give you a million dollars-worth of game for
$9.99” Jay-Z 2017
It is the communal core value which breaks through any barriers
to optimal engagement
between emcee and the audience. It is also this African cultural
imperative to view and value the
self as extended (and thus dynamic) as opposed to nuclear (and
static) that grounds Hip-hop.
Specifically, let us resist the inclination to limit our search for
communal expressions only within
Jay-Z’s socially conscious lyrics. Perhaps because Jay-Z is not
known to be as woke as Kendrick
Lamar, Common, Naz or even J Cole, he is a perfect subject for
investigating the pervasiveness

of Africanist communal values, because he’s often not even
trying to be woke. In his Black
Album self-professed “moment of clarity [and] honesty” a
seeming self-conscious Jay-Z (2003)
admits to dumbing-down to audiences for optimal profit, and
explains or rationalizes that:
If skills sold, truth be told
I’d probably be lyrically Tablib Kweli
Truthfully, I wanna rhyme like Common Sense
(but I did 5 mil)
I ain’t been rhyming like Common since!
When your sense got that much in common
And you been hustling since
Your inception, fuck perception -
Go with what makes sense!
Since I know what I’m up against
We as rappers must decide what’s most important
And I cant’ help the poor if I’m one of them,
So I got rich and give back

To me that’s the win win …(“Moment of Clarity”)
Here, Jay-Z’s (2003) win-win pragmatism suggests commitment
to an extended self. Sharing the
same social or “street” milieu as Biggie Smalls, Jay-Z is
compelled to “keep it real” about the
conditions of his “hood.” In fact, Jay-Z recognizes the
dominant influence of mentor and
predecessor, The Notorious B.I.G./Biggie Smalls, whose “Ten
Crack Commandments” track is
bitingly profound street pedagogy. As self-professed heir to
Biggie Smalls’ legacy, Jay-Z builds
on community awareness and business skills honed during days
as a drug dealer and as mentee
of both Biggie Smalls and Jaz-O, to achieve the career
successes of which Biggie Smalls was
tragically cut short.
Jay-Z is aware of obligations to embrace the role of emcee as
street-representative (2003)
and is upfront that “Marcy [projects] raised me; whether right
or wrong, streets gave me all I
write in the song.” In the following justification of his thug
actions, this Brooklyn
Representative emcee spits that:

When your options is none and the pen is all you have
… there’s limits on the Ave. …
Mr. President, there’s drugs in our residence
Tell me what you want me to do, come break bread with us
Mr. Governor, I swear there’s a cover up
Every other corner there’s a liquor store – fuck is up?
(“Justify My Thug”)
In this activist-artist role, success requires Bob Marley like
social commitment. Amiri Baraka
observes that development or critique of society is the focus or
driver of African or Black art
expression. Fittingly, another cultural agent, Jazz impresario
Wynton Marsalis describes novelist
Ralph Ellison as the unsung ‘political theorist’ of the mid-20th
century Civil Rights movement.
Perhaps conscious of the reach, limit and imperative of his rap
representative, or culture agent,
role Jay (2003) admits that he is “far from a Harvard student,
just had the balls to do it.”

In addition, glorification of roots is essential for any
representative, traditional or street.
U.S. Congresspersons represent local district constituencies and
similarly Jay-Z (2009) proclaims
his “New York’s Ambassador” status. In addition to addressing
the plagues of poverty and
drugs, Jay-Z takes on the flawed educational system, much more
diplomatically than Dead
Prez’s (2000) provocative “They Schools.” On a 1999 pop
single with Mariah Carey, Jay-Z
complains that “school made me sick, teachers said I was too
crazy.” However 10 years later,
and in the Obama era, Jay-Z criticizes a system where research
suggests that white teachers have
less expectations than Black teachers have of Black students’
potential:
I felt so inspired by what my teacher said
Said I’d either be dead or be a reefer head
I’m not sure if that’s how adults should speak to kids
Especially when the only
thing I did was speak in class
I’ll teach his ass! (2009, “So Ambitious”)

Also in tune with the communal value is the seeming obligatory
collaborations with fellow
artists, and Jay’s include:
Notorius B.I.G, Pharrell (Williams), Kanye West, J. Cole, Kid
Cudi, Beyonce, Alicia Keys,
Rihanna, Beanie Sigel, Bilal, Ne-Yo, Sterling Simms, Usher,
John Legend, Chrisette Michele,
Gloria Carter, Memphis Bleek, Timbaland, Young Chris,
Scarface, Lenny Kravitz, Paul Anka
(that’s right Paul Anka, go figure!), Big Boi, Killer Mike,
Twista, LaToya Williams, Sean Paul,
The Roots, Jaguar Wright, Q-Tip, R. Kelly, DJ Clue, Snoop
Dogg, Scarface, Missy Elliott, Amil,
Juvenile, Mariah Carey, Jermaine Dupri, Foxy Brown, Big Jaz,
Babyface, Lil’ Kim, P Diddy,
and Mary J. Blige.
A notable collaboration is the “Renegade” track with the highly
acclaimed Detroit emcee
Eminem, who is racially white and perhaps significantly from
the blackest city in the U.S. where
he internalized hip-hop culture. In fact, Eminem’s skills
arguably eclipse Jay’s on this track and

represents the dynamics and diversity of community. Black
American communities draw
diversity (10%) from immigrants who hail from the Caribbean,
African and Latin America, and
even the birth of hip-hop is credited to Cool DJ Herk (Clive
Campbell) who was born in Jamaica,
which the leading source of Black immigrants in the U.S. This
communal value or posture
allows Hip-hop to benefit from the diversity offerings around it,
be it immigrant, queer, or even
white.
SPIIRT
“If you don’t give me heaven I’ll raise hell. Till it’s heaven.
Jay-Z 2003
“Spread love to all my dead thugs, I’ll pour out a little Louie
‘til I head above.” Jay-Z 2003
Notions of transcendence, religiosity and ethics pervade African
origin cultures, from
Haitians and Londoners to Carolina Sea Islanders and New
Yorkers. And art (song, elocution,

dance, etc.) is a natural conduit for conjuring up spirit.
Specifically, Hip-hop’s communal
practices such as the free-style ciphers are chief means for
engaging and manipulating, indeed
“riding” the spirit. Perhaps no single Jay-Z track engages
spirituality more than “Lucifer.” Here,
Jay (2003) theorizes that “money and power is changing us and
now we’re lethal, infected with
D’Evils …” Also, community concerns are painted as a “holy
war” effectively shifting the
discourse on Ghetto realities from simple economics to ethics,
in the manner that Maulana
Karenga (2010) recommend we examine America’s vexing
socio-economic inequities.
Whenever such issues as inequitably funded schools are framed
in economic terms and
abstractions only (i.e., property demographics, liabilities, and
taxes) culpability is anonymous,
making needed political action out of reach. However, when
social injustices are framed in
ethical terms (i.e., social-contract, collective responsibility,
shared ethics and fairness)
culpability is clear and tangible solutions are perhaps more
easily attainable. Recognizing that

street violence should be contextualized, Jay-Z (2003) explains
and necessarily complicates what
is often seen as simply sinfulness:
“I’m from the murder capital, where we, murder for capital”
Lord forgive him
He got them dark forces in him
But he also got a righteous cause for sinning
Them a murder me, so I gotta murder them (“Lucifer”)
…
Don’t mean to be facetious, but vengeance is mine said the
Lord.
Furthermore, Jay-Z’s diction here reflects traditional African
American use, including
Elijah Muhammad’s Nation of Islam (Black Muslim) theology
of conceiving whites as
metaphorical “devils” as a means of grappling with the “moral
monstrosity” (Karenga 2010) of
the enslavement holocaust and racism. Conscious that devilry

can assume the “form of
diamonds and Lexuses,” Jay-Z (1994; 2003) employs this
familiar metaphor to chase Lucifer
“out of Earth.” It’s compelling that on just two of Jay-Z tracks,
one finds such proliferation of
spiritual and religious references as:
God forgive me for my brash delivery … forgive me I can’t be
held accountable, D’Evils
beating me down … we all have sinned … blame it on the sun of
the morning …
‘vengance is mine’ said the lord … introduce you to your maker
… bring you closer to
nature … reading your psalms … paying your tithe, being good
Catholics … wet you
with holy water … like a Semitic … Don Bishop …lift up your
soul and give the Holy
Ghost … when I perish … the meek shall inherit the earth …
bright light lead you …
memorial services ...somebody want their soul to rise …gone
but not forgotten … love to
all my dead thugs …ashes after they cremate you … I’ll pour
out a little Louie ‘til I head
above …

In his “No Church in the Wild” collaboration with Kanye West,
Jay (2011) spits of:
Lies on the lips of a priest
Thanksgiving disguised as a feast
… I’m wondering if a thug’s prayers reach
Is Pius pious ‘cause God loves pious?
...Jesus was a carpenter, Yeezy he laid beats
Hova flow the Holy Ghost, get the hell up out your seats,
preach!
Beyond what is written and therefore explicit, it is in the cipher
and other live
performances where one witnesses spirituality in fullest effect.
Jay-Z’s (2001) recorded
performance of his “Song Cry” blues song begins with a sort of
cipher among himself, Jaguar
Wright and the Roots. Jay-Z’s conventional rift of “…uh, uh,
uh …” just behind and interlaced
with Wright’s own crooning, gets him into the grove and to
spontaneously exclaim, “this is so
[mutafuckin’] soulful!” With invocation achieved, Jay-Z (2001)
begs the music to do his
bidding: “can’t see it coming down my eyes, so I gotta make
this song cry” to tell a confessional

tale of love lost to machismo pride. All the while Jay is
sustained by Jaguar Wright’s blues
croons of minor notes that Jay rides all the way to epiphanies.
In the end of this performed
confessional, and after arousal from a sort of post-coital stupor
where Wright and Roots had
lulled him, Jay professes: “I got lost for a second, I ain’t gon’
lie … I was in my own thoughts
for real!”
Whether or not Jay-Z actually got lost in his own thoughts
before an audience, he
certainly lays plain the sincerity cues hip-hop audiences expect.
The great Jazz vocalist, Billie
Holiday (1957) mastered this improvisational convention and
humbly defines the Blues
dynamics:
The blues to me is like being very sad, very sick, going to

church, being very happy …
there’s two kinds of blues, there’s happy blues and sad blues …
don’t think I ever sing
the same way twice, don’t think I ever sing the same tempo, one
night it’s a little bit
slower, the next night it’s a little bit brighter, depending on how
I feel. I don’t know, the
blues is sort of a mixed up thing, you just have to feel
it.[author’s emphasis]
This spontaneity aesthetic, as informed by fidelity to context,
mindfulness of audiences, and
one’s own mood and whim, affirms the established tradition of
viewing, embracing and engaging
creativity as a collective/communal process. This aesthetic is
popularly witnessed on any given
high-noon-on-Sunday (possibly still the most segregated hour in
American life), where Black
preachers, saints, and musicians lean and build on collective
shouts, songs and dances to call,
mount, ride, taste and feel the spirit.
Also, a tradition of personifying such spiritual forces as evil,
affirms the Africanist
spiritual value of recognizing reality as not only tangible but
also ethereal or even illusive. As

such, devilry is not just abstract, but also often very real and
personified. In addressing the
“driving while Black” phenomenon, on the “99 Problems” track,
listeners can deduce the Cop is
white, not only by Jay-Z’s mimicking his voice, but also by Jay-
Z’s reference to him as a devil,
“… pull over the car or bounce on the devil, put the petal to the
floor!” Lyor Cohen (Healy
2006: 288) perhaps unwittingly recognizes this orientation in
Jay-Z’s personality by assessing
that “Jay-Z doesn’t have a [presumption] of what’s good and
what’s bad. He doesn’t feel like
anything is out-of-bounds for him to witness and experience”
and as such Cohen celebrates Jay-
Z’s disposition or worldview as “an incredibly valuable thing
for hip-hop.” Jay-Z is merely
mirroring a larger spiritualist orientation, manifest by Africa’s
cultural persistence in America.
James H. Cone (1992: 71-77) uses the musical Blues tradition to
explain Black theology, and
Toni Morrison (1993: 90, 118) paints a pre-1960’s Black
worldview similarly:
In their world, aberrations were as much a part of nature as
grace … nature was never

askew – only inconvenient… There was no creature so ungodly
as to make them destroy
it … a full recognition of the legitimacy of forces other than
good ones …They knew
anger well but not despair, and they didn’t stone sinners for the
same reason they didn’t
commit suicide – it was beneath them …The purpose of evil was
to survive it.
One of Jay-Z’s favorite producers, Kanye West (2010), puts it
this way: “we love Jesus, but you
done learned a lot from Satan.” Indeed, a unique people dealing
with the devilry of racism
produced a unique theology of oppression and expectedly also
other unique ways of navigating
life, including essentials of the important dynamics of gender
relations as we will explore in the
final section of this essay.
MA

“Ladies is pimps too …” Jay-Z 2003
“Took my child to be born, see through a woman’s eyes” Jay-Z
2017
“Bitch Bad, Woman Good, Lady Better, … Misunderstood”
Lupe Fiasco 2012
In recognizing the importance of various women in his life,
W.E.B. DuBois (1920)
describes the ‘mother idea’ as one of Africa’s important cultural
gifts and legacies to the world,
and recognizes its continuity in African America. This
matrifocal principle, conceptualized by
Giddings (2003) as the appreciation of women’s unique,
indispensible and complementary
role in relationships, family, community and society, is very
much manifest in Hip-hop, yet
Hip-hop is often simplistically dismissed as misogynistic music.
The Hip-hop tradition of
referring to women endearingly as “Ma” complicates this
charge. Further, one of Hip-hop’s most
natural links with its R&B forbearer, or cousin, is the emcee’s
dependence on vocal hooks,
typically in feminine complementary voice generating,
lubricating and guiding melodic tracks

for effective emcee flow.
Jay-Z’s (2001) “Song Cry” performance exemplifies this
conventional assignment of
women to the role of crying and crooning, on his behalf, as his
machismo, in this case, does not
allow him to see tears coming down his own eyes. In this
confessional Blues song, Jay-Z offers
his masculine apologia, but he also takes a gender-
complementarity approach. Although, to the
casual eye this seems a double standard, Jay-Z seems sincere.
His thoughtful reflection on
coming to terms with repeatedly disrespecting by cheating, and
consequently losing, his woman
is unequivocal:
How many time you forgiven me?/How was I to know you was
plain sick of me?
I know the way a nigga was livin’ was wack/ But you don’t get
a nigga back like that! / Look, I’m
a man with pride …
You don’t just pick up and leave and leave me sick like that/
I gotta live with the fact that I did you wrong forever! (“Song
Cry”)
Jay (2017) later called on this trope again relative to his marital

infidelity, admitting, “took me
too long for this song, I don’t deserve you” and relieved that he
did not “go… Eric Bennet.”
This process of working out male-female romance issues is also
attempted in Jay-Z’s
(2001) seeming misogynistic “Girls, Girls, Girls” which further
complicates his relationship with
the matrifocal principle and gender complementarity.
Collaborating with three other legends, Q-
Tip, Biz Markie, and Slick Rick, this track affirms Black
Womanism, popularized by Alice
Walker (1983) as culturally distinct from white feminism. Here
Jay-Z brags, or fantasizes, about
romantically conquering the following twelve “chick”
caricatures: Spanish, Black, French,
Indian, Peruvian, Chinese, African, young, project, model,
paranoid-hypochondriac, and
narcoleptic. Beyond its chauvinistic comedy, this rap rant seems
to affirm the matrifocal value in
highlighting through satire, behaviors antithetical to
conventional, complementary women’s

roles, which includes primary-care providers, educators of
children, and husbandry of the home.
For instance, about the “model chick”, Jay-Z complains that
though “she dress her ass off and
her walk is mean/only thing wrong with Ma she’s always on the
scene/God damn she’s fine, but
she parties all the time,” and “don’t cook or clean.” Here, Jay-
Z’s satire on women’s place is
within the same tradition of Brand Nubian’s (1990) “Slow
Down” and Chaka Demas’ (2002)
“Murder She Wrote.” Indeed, one gets a sense of Jay-Z’s
artistic socio-political satire, if the
surface chauvinism can be ignored. What then are we to make
of Jay-Z’s (2003) gender
egalitarian assertion that, not just men but “ladies is pimps
too”?
What possibly saves “Girl, Girls, Girls” from dismissal as pure
misogyny, is Jay-Z’s
engagement of the “cash connection” dynamic of male-female
romantic relations. (Karenga
2010: 279) Jay-Z’s (2001, 1999) asking his “Indian Chick”
which tribe she is from, “red dot or
feather” is met by her “dough fetish” retort that “… all you
need to know is am not-a-hoe and to

get with me you better be chief lots-a-dough.” Such
engagements of the “cash connection”
enlightens the discourse on video vixens and other
pornographies and economic traps into which
some women fall, in a society where matrifocal ideals are not
mainstream values and where too
many female, Black and poor bodies are commodified. 50
Cent’s “Candy Shop” affirms this as
Olivia, his female collaborator, boasts “I’ll have you spending
all you got!” On his “Snoopy
Track,” Jay-Z (1999) is cognizant of this dynamic and salutes
“…chicks who get dough for
takin’ off their closes, … money-makin’ honies that slide down
the poles, all my educated chicks
whose grade is 4.0, all my baby mamas across the globe.” Jay-Z
(2011) concludes that
“everything’s for sale …am never going to jail” and Drake (DJ
Khalid 2016) even wonders out
loudly, “is it just me or is this sex so good, I shouldn’t have to
fuck for free?”
Among Jay-Z’s supposed conquests, and in addition to the
Indian chick, his “Black” and
“Project” chicks too are of particular interest to the matrifocal
value because only these three are

given voice to respond, and thus engage in a Womanist
discourse with him. Jay-Z’s (2001)
complaint that the “Black Chick” “don’t know how to
act/Always talking out her neck, makin’
her finders snap” is met by her assertion that “listen Jigga man,
I don’t care if you rap/You better
R-E-S-P-E-C-T me!” She asserts that neither Jay-Z’s status nor
rap’s misogyny gives him the
right to disrespect her or the sisterhood. Jay-Z’s use of this
Black woman’s anthem, as
popularized by the “Queen of Soul” Aretha Franklin, suggests
some thoughtfulness. Further, as
an original recording of R&B pioneer Otis Redding, the use of
this womanist “anthem”
underscores the very discourse Jay-Z engages with his female
caricaturized subjects. As a son of
Brooklyn’s Marcy housing projects, Jay-Z (2001) is
communally compelled to hold in high
regard, his “Project Chick, that plays her part” and about whom
he concludes “…if it goes down
y’all that’s my heart.” Earlier, on the “Do It Again,” track Jay-Z
(1999) collaborates with, and
thus engages, female co-emcee Amil (All Money is Legal) using
classical call-and-response

format, where she playfully stands her ground against his
bravado:
Jay-Z (Amil) Amil (Jay-Z)
12 am, on the way to the club
1 am, DJ make it erupt
2 am, now I’m getting with her
3 am, now I’m splitting with her (splitting with who?)
4 am, at the waffle house
5 am, now we at my house
6 am, I be diggin’ her out (who?)
6:15, I be kickin’ her out (what?)
7 am, I’m a call my friends
12 am, we gonna do it again …
12 am, on the way to the club

1 am, about to shake the butt
2 am, now I’m checkin’ the mix
3 am, now he buyin’ me drinks (what u drikin’ on?)
4 am, exit the club (let’s go)
5 am, think he getting some butt (that’s right!)
6 am, nigga still ain’t bust (what?)
6:15, nigga will get up (what?)
7 am, gotta tell my friends
12 am, we gonna do it again…
Beyoncee too holds her own, or is assertive, relative to the
cash-connection romantic
relationship dynamic when asserting in song that “when he
fucks me good, I take his ass to Red
Lobster.” The matrifocal principle is certainly at play in “Hello
Brooklyn, 2.0” where Jay-Z’s
(2006) beloved borough of Brooklyn is personified as a
nurturing woman, and after whom he
would name his future daughter, “Brooklyn Carter.” This 2006
collaboration with younger
emcee Lil’ Wayne, suggests a passing of this aesthetic tradition
on to the next generation of

emcees, and fans too. This alone should warrant looking
beyond Jay-Z’s surface misogyny if
one needs evidence beyond Jay-Z’s (2002) assertion that
“Sisters love Jay cuz they know how
Hov is, I love my sisters, I don’t love no bitch.”
CONCLUSIONS
“You can’t kill me. I’ll live forever through these bars.” Jay-Z
2003
Well beyond an expose of Jay-Z’s hip-hop mastery, I have
presented a framework for
viewing Hip-hop as a contemporary keeper of Africana aesthetic
traditions. Jay-Z’s acclaimed
oeuvre points to a theory for understanding Hip-hop in Black
culture-nationalist and historical
terms. In fact, Jay-Z’s self-confidence in engaging non-
conventional rap references and
concepts, illustrates the authority of a cultural agent. An
important aspect of cultural leadership
or mastery is consciousness of one’s relationship to surrounding
cultural forces. Apparently
aware of connections to legacies, Jay (2003) admits that he did
not “invent the game” and as a

metaphor for both the hustle and leadership, he thoughtfully
explains:
I put my feet in the footprints left to me
… the ghetto’s got a mental telepathy
Man my brother hustled so, naturally
up next is me …
Shit I know how this movie ends … (Jay-Z, 1993)
Jay-Z seems to know also the complex cultural leadership
landscape, littered as it is with rows
about relevance and realness. He says “I’m like Che Guevara
with bling on, I’m complex” and
“never claimed to have wings on.” (Jay-Z 2003) Indeed,
seeming to sense his eldership status as
younger emcees emerge while he still has much to contribute,
Jay-Z (2006) compensated that
30s is the new 20s, recalling his own recording contract debut at
age 26. Also, concern about

relevancy perhaps prodded Jay-Z’s orchestrated 2003 Black
Album retirement, a bold and
unprecedented act in an industry where artists typically just
fade to black. This facilitates the
issue of passing the mic from the hip-hop generation (born
between 1965 and 1984) to what
might be called the Neo-hip-hop generation, who might not
appreciate Hip-hop’s founding
pillars such as break-dancing, but whose reach beyond
conventional limits of blackness might
have played some role in the election of President Barack H.
Obama, who offers a new role
model for Black youths and many others. In cultural agency
terms, Jay-Z capitalizes on his
maturity, painting the following braggadocio as earned status:
That's another difference that's between me and them
… I'm smarten up, open the market up …
Was born to dictate, never follow orders (2001, “U Don’t
Know”)
I'm in the hall already, on the wall already
I'm a work of art, I'm a Warhol already …
Niggas compare me to Biggie and Tupac already. (2009, “All
ready home”)

Pound for pound I’m the best to ever
come around here …
I went plat a bunch a times
Times that by my influence on pop culture
I supposed to be number one on everybody’s list
We’ll see what happens
when I no longer exist! (2003, “What more can I say”)
How can you falter, when you the Rock of Gibraltar
I had to get of the boat, so I can walk on water
This ain’t a tall order, this is nothing to me
Difficult take a day, impossible takes a week
… I do this in my sleep! …
Am not a businessman,
I’m a business, man!
Watch me handle my business, damn! (West 2004, “Diamonds
from S.L.)
Mark Healy (2006: 288) justifies Jay-Z’s braggadocio by
observing that “[t]he world

knows that if [Jay]’s doing it, wearing it, backing it, it’s
probably worth a second look.” Actor
Gwyneth Paltrow (Healy 2006:288) too weighs in, that “there’s
a generosity and self-assurance
that makes him super, super cool. Something just went right …
he just has it all.”
Still, Jay-Z (2003) knows his paradoxical status as a rich Black
man, whose “99
problems” include navigating a racist justice system which
could impose “half-a-mil for bail
‘cause I’m African.” Indeed, Jay-Z’s oeuvre inspires further
investigations into the dynamics of
Black culture and the potential, and imperative, of Black artists
to forge a functional cultural
philosophy (a system of norms … that create institutions and
policies that prod effective cultural,
socio-economic and political development among African
Americans). (Cruse 1967) By more
conscientiously engaging such a cultural purpose and goal, Hip-
hop can avoid the seeming faith
of its predecessor, Jazz, which was criticized shortsightedly

from many middle class African
Americans during its formative years in 1920-‘30’s – perhaps
understandably so as African
American leaders strived to assimilate into U.S. normative
culture. But today’s artists and
executives, such as Jay-Z, should learn the lesson of Jazz and
better nurture the new and crucial
cultural craft of Hip-hop.
As a crucial American musical genre, an offspring of Jazz, Hip-
hop struggles to avert a
much prophesized death. Jay-Z, Eminem, Naz, Wu Tang Clan,
Lil’Wayne, Mos Def, J. Cole,
Kendrick Lamar, Kodak Black et al., illustrate that Hip-hop is
hardly dying, and is in fact
thriving. Still, Jay-Z (2004: 75) fans this prophetic flame by
attributing his 2003 retirement to
being “honestly … bored with hip hop” and “…feeling
uninspired.” His quick return from
retirement with Kingdom Come smacks of intentional
provocation and a response to somewhat
messianic calls to save Hip-hop from the faith suffered by its
elder grandparent, Jazz. Whatever
the motive, it has been illustrated herein that Jay-Z can be
viewed as a Black cultural agent who

passes on core kugusa mtima values and traditions to
subsequent generations with faith that they
can and will sustain African culture here in the U.S.
This exploration of Jay-Z’s oeuvre should help us understand
some dynamics of Black
cultural agency or Black intelligentsia. Jay-Z speaks to at least
two generations of fans while
amassing and directing wealth and influence the like of which
predecessors such as Billie
Holiday, Duke Ellington, Sam Cook, Aretha Franklin, and
Shirley Caesar only hoped to achieve.
With such influence, Jay-Z, Kendrick Lamar, J-Cole and others
have tremendous cultural
opportunities in their hands. Imagine then, how much more
understanding of Black culture can
be garnered from a more comprehensive cultural biography that
includes music theory analyses
of Jay-Z’s work and the Hip-hop genre more broadly. Such a
comprehensive study could
elucidate the relationship between Africans and “African
origin” communities particularly in
light of a diminishing baseline of culture between Africa and its
Diaspora, as argued by Ronald

Walter (1997)
(In this current era where “racism” is indeed a ruse, or
distraction from the real problem
of perpetuating greed and denying human dignity, it is
important to address the issues of culture,
through which (real) power may be harnessed and employed via
critique, motivation, pedagogy,
inspiration, wealth building and such. Jay-Z’s leadership and
philanthropic approach is that
“…financial freedom’s my only hope …I’m tryin’ to give you a
$1,000,000. worth of game for
just $9.99.”
REFERENCES
Allsopp, R., Allsopp, J. Dictionary of Caribbean English
Usage. New York: Oxford University Press,
1996.
Ani, M. The African Aesthetic and National Consciousness. In
K. Welsh Asante. (Ed.) The African

Aesthetic: Keepers of the traditions. (pp. 63-82). Wesport:
Praeger, 1993.
Baraka I. A. Blues People. In W. J. Harris. (Ed.). The LeRoi
Jones/Amiri Baraka Reader. (pp. 21-33).
New York: Thunder’s Mouth Press, 1991.
Brand Nubian’s. All For One. Elektra Records, 1990.
Chaka Demas & Pliers. Ultimate Collection: Chaka Demas &
Pliers. Hip-O Records, 2002.
Cone, J. H. The Spirituals and the Blues. New York: Orbis
Books, 1992.
Cruse, H. Crisis of the Negro Intellectual: A Historical
Analysis of the Failure of Black Leadership.
New York: The New York Review of Books, 1967.
Diop, C. A. The Cultural Unity of Black Africa: The Domains
of Matriarch and of Patriarch in
Classical Antiquity. Longdon: Karnak House, 1989
DuBois, W.E.B. The Damnation of Women. In Darkwater:
Voices from within the veil. (pp. 109-113).
Mineola, NY: Dover Publications, 1920/1999.
Giddings, G. J. Contemporary Afrocentric Scholarship: Toward
a Functional Cultural Philosophy.
Lewiston, New York: Mellen Press, 2003

Gladwell, M. Outliers: The Story of Success. New York:
Little Brown and Company, 2011
Gucci Mane (with Neil Martinez-Belkin) (2017). The
Autobiography of Gucci Mane. NY: Simon and
Schuster.
Healy, M. Jay-Z: Renaissance Mogul. Gentlemen’s Quarterly.
New York: Condé Nast Publications.
286-289, 357-358, 2006
Holiday, B. “The Sound of Jazz.” Seven Lively Arts Series.
New York: CBS Television, 1957.
(http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=1072753
)
Karenga, M. Introduction to Black Studies (3rd Ed.). Los
Angles: University of Sankore Press, 2010.
DJ Khaled. “I got the Keys.” Major Key. Epic Records, 2016.
Jay-Z. Reasonable Doubt. Roc-A-Fella Records, 1996.
… In My Lifetime (Roc-A-Fella Records, 1997.
…. Volume 2: Hard Knock Life. Def Jam, 1998.
…. Volume 3: Life and Times of S. Carter. Def Jam, 1999.

… The Dynasty. Roc La Familia, 2000.
… (2001). The Blueprint . Uptown/Universal
… (2001). Jay-Z: Unplugged. Def Jam
… (2002). Blueprint 2: The Gift & the Curse. Def Jam
… (2003). The Black Album. Roc-A-Fella/Def Jam
… (2004). Hova and Out. Vibe. New York: Vibe/Spin
Ventures. 72-80.
… (2004A). “Never Let me down.” In Kanye West. College
Drop Out. Roc-A-Fella Records
… (2006). Kingdom Come. Roc-A-Fella/Def Jam
… (2007). American Gangsta. Roc-A-Fella/Def Jam
… (2009). Blueprint(3). Roc Nation/Atlantic
… (2013). Magna Carta: Holy Grail. Roc-A-Fella, Roc Nation,
Universal
… (2017). 4:44. Roc Nation Records.
Jay-Z and Beyonce. (2018). Everything is Love. Rock Nation.
Jay-Z and Kanye West. (2011). Watch the Throne. Roc-A-
Fella/Def Jam
Karenga, M. (2008). Kwanza: A Celebration of Family,
Community and Culture, 2nd Edition. Los

Angeles, CA: University of Sankore Press
Kitwana, B. (2002). The Hip Hop Generation: Young Blacks
and the Crisis of African-American
Culture. NY: Basic Civitas Books
Lupe Fiasco. (2012). Food and Liquor II: The Great American
Rap Album, Part I. Atlantic (1st and
15th)
Morrison, T. (1993). Sula. New York: Alfred A. Knof
Morrison, T. (1970). The Bluest Eye. New York: Holt,
Rinehart and Winston. (2000, Knoff )
Pharrell. (2003). “Frontin’.” Arista Records
Sidbury, J. (2007). Becoming African in America: Race and
Nation in the Early Black Atlantic.
London: Oxford University Press
Some, M. (1994). Of Water and the Spirit: Ritual, Magic, and
Initiation in the Life of an African
Shaman. New York: Penguin
Timberlake, J. (2013). The 20/20 Experience. RCA Records

Walker, A. (1983). In Search of our Mothers’ Gardens:
Womanist Prose. NY: Harcourt Brace
Jovanovich
Walters, Ronald (1997). Pan-Africanism in the African
Diaspora: An analysis of modern Afrocentric
political movements. Detroit: Wayne State University Press.
Welsh-Asante, Kariamu (1993). The African Aesthetic: Keeper
of the tradition. Westport: Praeger
Kanye West. (2005). Late Registration. Rock-A-Fella Records
Kanye West. (2004). College Drop Out. Rock-A-Fella
Records
Kanye West. (2010). My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy.
Rock-A-Fella Records
Rose, T. (1994) . Rap Music and the Demonization of Young
Black Males. In T. Golden’s Black Male:
Representations of Masculinity in Contemporary American Art.
NY: Harry N. Abrams, Inc. (Whitney
Museum of American Art)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gYg6Sl6dxx0
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gYg6Sl6dxx0

Jay-Z’s Africanisms HIS 1110 G. J. Giddings
“How we still slaves in 2016?” – Jay-Z (DJ Kahled, 2016)
You might wonder, why read about MC Jay-Z in an African
American history course, or
anywhere at all in a University, where Jay-Z has never even
committed to attending as a
student like yourself. Well, since I believe that “anything goes”
when it comes to learning,
Jay-Z’s work, through analysis, reveals excellent insights about
how African culture persists
among African Americans. And it helps me demonstrate the
Afrocentric perspective we will
take in this history course.
I wrote the essay, “Jay-Z: A Cultural Agent?” (Bailey 2011) to
help illustrate how one can
find African cultural characteristics, or Africanisms, in African
American cultural forms such
as Hip-hop. Like most African Americans, Jay-Z seems unable
to avoid exhibiting and
engaging Africanisms – which are cultural traits that originate
in Africa and persist in the
descendant African Americans. Part of this persistence is
explained by the fact that

throughout most of U.S. history, African Americans were not
allowed to fully assimilate into
so called “European American culture.” You might consider the
fact that African Americans
were enslaved (1641-1865; 224 years) for a longer period than
they were free (1865-2017;
152 years). And after enslavement, African Americans were
aggressively segregated until
the mid 20th century. But in many ways, African Americans are
still segregated in urban
areas. One result of this separation from “whites” is the
maintenance of a distinct African
American culture, with such cultural expressions as Hip-hop.
Although not as “conscious” or Afrocentric as Naz, J-Cole,
Kendrick Lamar, et al., I chose to
use Jay-Z’s oeuvre (body of work) to argue and illustrate that
even Jay-Z exhibits
Africanisms (African cultural core values), namely: oral,
communal, matrifocal and spiritual.
(Giddings, 2003) Focused mostly on Jay-Z’s lyrics, this essay is
organized in 4 sections
corresponding to each of these Africanisms. The goal is to argue
that Jay-Z might be

considered an African American cultural agent or leader
because of his status and the
cultural lessons his lyrics seem to communicate/teach.
Do read the entire essay, focusing on 2 of the 4 sections. Some
of the words I use in this
essay might be unfamiliar, so I encourage you to look them up
and expand your
vocabulary! After reading the entire essay, you are ready to
engage your classmates and
me on our Jay-Z related discussion forum assignment.
If you have any questions about this course resource or the
related assignment, remember
that you can post a question on the “Help Me!” forum in the
eClassroom.
Sources:
Gidding, G. J. (2011). “The Authentic Cultural Agent” in Julius
Bailey’s Jay-Z: Essays on Hip Hop’s
Philosopher King. McFarland Press. 2011. ISBN 978-0-7864-
6329-9.
Giddings, G. J. (2003). Contemporary Afrocentric Scholarship:
Toward a Functional Cultural Philosophy. Lewiston,
New York: Mellen Press. 2003. ISBN: 0773466592
DJ Khaled. (2016). “I got the Keys.” Major Key. Epic Recor

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