The music video for "Who I Smoke" currently has over 20 1000000 views on YouTube. On a surface level, it'due south a campy spin on Vanessa Carlton'southward "A Thousand Miles," like to Baltimore rapper YTK's recent Mariah Carey-inspired "Permit Information technology Off." The video shows Florida artists Spinabenz, Whoppa Wit Da Choppa, Yungeen Ace, and FastMoney Goon wylin' out on a golf course with all their jewels on while they rap. It's equally if the video treatment came from the aforementioned Wayans Brothers who wrote the infamous scene of Terry Crews singing "A K Miles" in White Chicks.

The "Who I Fume" video is the kind of ironic, outlandish content that makes for nifty social media provender. Information technology'southward hard non to gawk at. But a deeper understanding of the lyrics should brand most desire to plow away in discomfort. The song's championship, "Who I Fume," refers to the slang of "smokin'" expressionless enemies. The phrase "smokin on (insert person)" pack has assimilated into the internet lexicon to disrespect the likes of Rush Limbaugh, just like so many things in pop civilization, it came at the expense of a Black life. Chicago youth coined the term in the early on 2010s to joke about a 15-yr-old rival who was fatally shot ("smoked"), allegedly a sick twist on the story that The Outlawz smoked their friend Tupac'southward ashes.

It'southward on that grisly premise that "Who I Smoke" lies. The vocal is a manifestation of a generation that knows nothing else merely the internet being a free-for-all—and now it'southward their plough. They've seen rappers utilize the digital infinite to diss their enemies and gain traction for information technology; they've seen people use social media to fan the flames of local beef; and they're thirsty for social media fame.

When you grow upward in proximity to an endless cycle of gun violence and want to affirm your side'due south superiority, a common route to attracting viral attention is to get as disrespectful as possible. Nosotros saw 50 Cent push limits with his antics vs. Rick Ross in 2009. Many recoiled when Chief Keef joked about the decease of Lil JoJo on Twitter in 2012, or when his fellow Chicagoans made songs reeling off the names of "expressionless opps." A couple of years later, the world was captivated past 6ix9ine's "test my gangster" functioning, replete with an entire gang set up as supporting cast.

The "Who I Smoke" rappers, and some of their young peers, may non know any amend than their social media antics, just older fans practise. People of a certain age call back the negative elements of the Chicago drill scene's rise. Young suburbanites lived vicariously through Chicago gang violence by using videos and social media to link sure drill artists to gangs. They spectated Twitter arguments and Instagram Live sessions. People who weren't even full-time artists became social media stars for their proximity to drill artists. Some fabricated fortunes off pathologizing the kids as "savages." The sensationalism tied to the scene hurt their ability to perform in their home city, and served as further impetus for cops to surveil them.

Most reactions to what's going on in Jacksonville right now signal that we're already headed downward a similar path to what happened in Chicago. There's been a lot of hysteria about "Who I Fume" and Foolio'due south Fantasia-sampling "When I Meet Y'all" answer, and there's a whole ingather of kids who are enjoying having new "real" heroes to spectate. There are others gawking at the scene as if they correspond a new low for humanity. And a minority is watching the scene with concern, hoping the artists tin milk shake the conditioning of their environs and use their talents to lead productive lives. Whatever people end upwards doing after watching "Who I Smoke," the of import part for the creators is that—for better or worse—they're watching.

We got to this point after a series of dramatic changes over the years, and we tin give thanks the internet and social media for expanding the war chest of rap beef. Artists had relatively limited opportunities to talk their shit during the early on 2000s, besides the occasional Tv set or radio appearance and magazine feature. Merely a changing media landscape, led by contained journalists, soon gave them new venues to air out enemies.

Tru Life hacked Jim Jones' MySpace folio and posted edited photos feminizing the Dipset capo. The Game released an unabridged DVD dissing 50 Cent and K-Unit, including footage of him walking upwards to fifty'south Connecticut mansion. There was even the YouTuber who took it upon themself to answer to Cam'ron'due south "Swagger Jacker" Jay-Z diss with their ain concocted prune of Cam'ron "biting" other MCs' lyrics.

The beef documentaries capitalized on fans' involvement in controversy by offering up the behind-the-scenes stories backside rap conflicts. Street DVDs similar SMACK DVD, The Come Up DVD, Cocaine City, and Sub-O DVD fulfilled fans' want for intimate admission to artists. They went anywhere and captured tensions between not just star artists, merely their crews. Suddenly, rap beef wasn't merely well-nigh dueling songs or waiting three months to read what someone had to say virtually a foe in a magazine. These new, raw media platforms were allowing for instant smoke.

Sites like YouTube, WorldstarHipHop, OnSMASH, ForbezDVD, and others picked upward from the DVDs as resources for artists not merely to have in-depth interviews and share videos (including disses) but to drop clips dissing their rivals.

While some may betoken the finger at how disrespectful rap beef has become, information technology'south also worth noting that these songs have millions of listeners. Many rap consumers want this violence.


These avenues gained more attention non just for stars, but lesser known artists. French Montana, who started Cocaine Urban center, used his platform to gain notoriety via videos featuring him and Max B dissing Jim Jones — and waiting outside Jones' studio sessions. During the early on stages of the 50 Cent vs. Rick Ross beefiness, artists like late G-Unit affiliate Mazaradi Play a trick on and a then-relatively unknown Gunplay became known on Worldstar, setting a precedent where it wasn't just ii artists going at it; members of an artist's entourage could gain a higher profile by jumping into the fray, as well. Rap crews had the freedom to say whatever they wanted, unbound by radio or MTV regulations—and the disrespect was flagrant. To most listeners at the time, Pac's "MOB" and Biggie'due south "team in the marine bluish" were just faceless references when the two artists checked them on records. Imagine how much more noise (and danger) at that place would have been during their conflict if both respective crews were in the public infinite, egging on violence.

That dynamic paved the manner for what we after saw from those in the orbit around drill music scenes. People like 6ix9ine'south one-time manager Shotti didn't even rap, simply he kept beef going with his meal ticket's rivals. These people had less to lose and more than to evidence, which means they were willing to get nastier and escalate a war of words toward actual violence.

Rappers weren't the just people using the internet as a battleground. Oxford Academic reported that "gang-associated youth use online platforms like Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram to taunt rivals and merchandise insults in ways that crusade offline retaliation," though they also qualified that "there is surprisingly piffling empirical research investigating how gang-associated youth actually deploy social media in gang conflicts and to what event." Forrest Stuart, a Stanford educator conducted a study with "threescore young men affiliated with gangs" and found that "contrary to mutual belief, the majority of social media challenges remain confined to online space and do non generate offline violence." But these arguments nevertheless stir a contentious atmosphere in neighborhoods rocked by gun violence. These platforms led young people with proximity to gangs to crave local hood fame and online notoriety via social media. And things often escalate even more quickly when they have rap aspirations.

While those who grew up in and effectually these communities were already used to such madness, the rest of the world was first exposed to digital gang beef upon the rise of the Chicago drill scene. The earth collectively gasped when Chief Keef joked almost the decease of rival rapper Lil JoJo, but those already in tune with the scene knew that this young generation of rival neighborhoods were always interacting disrespectfully on social media.

Keef's tweet magnified how much Chicago's decades-long gang conflict had pervaded the city's rap scene. Neighborhood friends of artists got on the radar of rap fans because they were referenced in songs or seen in videos. Reddit pages and social media accounts popped up dedicated to chronicling arguments between rival rappers and their crews. What was marketed in the rap media as rap beef was actually gang beef that spilled into the music. Instead of traditional rap disses with name flips or music-orientated insults, artists would drop songs dissing unabridged gangs, spitting on the memories of their dead enemies. Artists vied to up the ante (and the engagement) by being more disrespectful than the last song, reeling off longer and more than cruel assaults on the dead. And exterior the booth, they would further the tension by tweeting out jokes most slain rivals.

Rap fans have long been enamored with artists who rhyme almost their gang ties in their music and give a glimpse of the lifestyle in videos. Social media offered an even more than intimate opportunity to spectate gang civilization and put a face on the people in the midst of the conflict.

6ix9ine admits to being influenced past the Chicago drill scene. The controversial rapper capitalized on the public's digital bloodthirst more than anyone. He's a production of the social media generation that gained attention pre-rap, with antics similar performing wrestling moves on bra-and-panty-clad women. Social engagement seems like the about of import thing in his life, leading him to apply an attention-at-all-costs mentality to rap with infamous consequences.

His daily calls for rap rivals and gang members alike to "exam my gangster" didn't stay relegated to the internet. 6ix9ine got into a fight with a crew of people in Minnesota during Super Basin LIl festivities, and with Rap-A-Lot affiliated artists at LAX. He had his crew rob two people that he erroneously thought were also with Rap-A-Lot in New York (and reportedly filmed it). His beefiness with Casanova reportedly caused a shooting at Brooklyn's Barclays Center, and he testified that he had someone shoot at Principal Keef in 2018 after they got into information technology online.

Even though 6ix9ine concluded up temporarily incarcerated along with the 9 Trey Bloods he told on, his strategy was working for a time. He realized that the net ecosystem rewards shocking content, and he could plow his engagement into sales. The infamy he gained from beef helped him build a large fanbase that catapulted him to the top of the Billboard charts. The human action of starting beef, gaining attention, and turning the hysteria into money has get a risky pattern for anyone longing to speedily gain attending on social media.

That's the world that these young Duval County rappers grew up in, and they're following some of the aforementioned tactics equally their predecessors. They're part of a generation of rappers who can't properly separate the streets from their profession—and they're getting momentarily rewarded for not being able to. The major beef in the metropolis is centered effectually rising rappers Foolio and Yungeen Ace, as well as all their affiliates. They've used social media to antagonize each other, similar when Yungeen Ace affiliate Ksoo got football thespian Leonard Fournette to hold upwardly a Mike Bibby jersey, unknowingly making low-cal of Foolio'south xvi-yr-onetime friend Bibby (who Ksoo was recently charged with murdering). They took reward of the momentary hype of the Clubhouse app past holding rooms where they antagonized each other. The sad reality is that their arguments could be considered a twisted form of rap marketing, as they satiated their impressionable fans' desire for drama.

Conflict is a surefire fashion for artists to gain notoriety. Disrespectful records like "Who I Smoke" are going to sew the numbers for a time, but none of the fans who thirst for these antics are ever there when artists suffer the consequences of their actions. Julio Foolio recently told Complex that "the fans play a big role." He noted, "The same way our chore is to wake upwards and rap, it's almost as if some of these fans' jobs is to wake up and troll under Foolio'due south comment section." Yungeen Ace added, "The fans make this shit even deeper, and it turns into a pride thing… These folks don't intendance that we're talking most real people because this is the entertainment industry, and they merely want good music." To fans, it's merely amusement, even if people are dying behind it.

There have been numerous troubling instances of artists dying right afterwards the release of incendiary diss songs. DC rapper OG ManMan was killed soon later releasing "Truth," a diss song paired with a video depicting him at a rival's grave site. Chicago rapper Lli Marc was also killed days subsequently releasing his OTF diss "No Competition." There's no way to know the circumstances of their deaths, just inflammatory disses assist feed a trigger-happy climate. That's why King Von'southward uncle Range Rover Hand urged Lil Durk to stop dissing dead rivals later on his brother DThang was tragically murdered last weekend.

The lyrics on these aren't just bars—lives were lost. They deserve more than to exist commodified as part of America'southward lust for Blackness expiry.


So far, the Duval County scene has been engaged with past fans in a similar mode to Chicago drill: The artists' music is existence overlooked in lieu of gawking at their conflicts. And nosotros've already seen the larger consequences of defining a scene by its worst moments. The New York, London, and Chicago establishment has used sensational media coverage to stagnate their respective drill movements: stopping shows, surveilling artists, and veritably exiling its biggest stars. We've seen police departments weaponize the sensationalism past criminalizing artists, their lyrics, and fifty-fifty their social media footprint to ensnare them in sweeping gang indictments and RICOs. The justice organization's predatory tactics haven't had the level of pushback they deserve because so much of the public buys the hype that these artists are "savages."

While some may point the finger at how disrespectful rap beef has become, it'due south besides worth noting that these songs have millions of listeners. Many rap consumers want this violence. Rap music has become a multibillion dollar industry in part because information technology feeds racist fantasies about who Black people are. The further the lines are blurred between rap and the streets, the more than that listeners can get their fix of Black dysfunction (with no personal consequences). The ongoing fallout of King Von'due south death is ane of the more glaring examples, with fans spectating every development like it's a reality show. At that place are too many rap consumers and rap media professionals who may similar rap music, but couldn't intendance less almost the people making the music. The lyrics on songs like "Who I Fume," FBG Duck'south "Dead Bitches," and more aren't just bars—lives were lost. They deserve more than to be commodified as part of America'southward lust for Black death.

There's a well-significant inclination to theorize that immature artists who reflect the violence in their cities are merely products of their surround, but we should offer them more regard than to pretend they have no agency. These are intent decisions made by homo beings looking for a specific reaction and acting out confronting perilous atmospheric condition. The world is anti-Black; it makes sense that they lash out at this reality through war with faces that look like their own.

Instead of gasping at them and moving on, or coddling their actions with theorizing that doesn't accost the root of the problem, we should inquire each other some questions: Why is the value of Black life and so low to so many people? What does it say about our society that lampooning Black decease is deemed entertaining? How much of this morbid sense of humour is about hordes of young people laughing to keep from crying or admitting their fear of life's fragility?

Renowned scholar and activist Kwame Ture once proclaimed, "History doesn't repeat itself… goose egg can." The tragedy of underserved Blackness communities, which we encounter through rap, isn't a generational cycle, merely a systematic degradation of humanity that'southward merely getting deadlier as the toolbox expands. The internet gives people the ways to keep up conflict in front end of the whole world. And information technology also gives people who will never venture into certain neighborhoods a stake in fueling the violence within them. Instead of observing all of this, feeling powerless to the cycle, we tin terminate the process.

It's common knowledge that acting out is a sign of low cocky-esteem and loneliness. Doing and then on social media may simply be a hope that the likes and views gained equally a result tin can temporarily fill a hole that society doesn't care to. The young people in Chicago, Jacksonville, Brooklyn, and and so many other cities aren't the only groups using the internet to act out. But living in an inequitable system means they're the only people facing deadly consequences for information technology.

During an interview with YouTuber Cam Capone, Foolio reflected on his beefiness with Yungeen Ace and besides admitted, "Damn, I be thinkin,' what if all united states was like one? Like together… We would be powerful." It's possible. But everyone would first have to be in a infinite to see the bigger picture.

It took Gucci Mane and Jeezy experiencing the comfort of financial security and clarity of age to squash their differences and come up to an understanding. Unfortunately, as well many rappers were killed before they reached that bespeak, in function because their music was and then criminalized that information technology cost them opportunities and kept them in the hood, mired in a counterproductive mindset. Every onlooker who fans the flames of these beefs—from fans to media—is complicit in continuing that cycle. Perhaps going forward, we could be more than cognizant of how to best engage with vehement social media antics. Information technology'south a thing of life and decease.