It’s strip club music if you want to rob the strip club. It’s the unshot sequel to Hustle & Flow (as DJ Qualls says in the movie, “heavy percussion, repetitive hooks, sexually suggestive lyrics”). Flockaveli drew from his mentor and ATLien Gucci Mane’s brand of trap music, while presenting as the final form of the 2000s crunk craze. Though born in Queens, Waka was raised in Riverdale, Georgia. Something, it transpired, that was impossible to deny.
Waka’s simplified form of Southern rap eschewed all that northern focus on technical proficiency in favour of something more brutalist. (Meth later rolled back on his comments.) Four years after Nas declared hip-hop to be dead, the cover of Flockaveli could have been held up as an image of the man with blood on his hands. Further assertions that lyricism no longer mattered attracted the ire of Method Man, who predicted that Waka’s time in the game would be “very slim”. “I ain’t got time for lyrics,” the Brick Squad soldier proclaimed during a radio interview in February 2010, eight months before his debut album Flockaveli hit the streets. As the 2010s sprung into life, Waka Flocka Flame materialised as a nightmarish vision hellbent on savaging everything that hip-hop purists held dear.
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