DESPITE my age, which is 60, and my wardrobe, which is tweed, plaid and khaki, and my color, which is white, I like rap music. Oh, I still like country music, my first favorite, but something has always drawn me to the beats and the rhymes, and the “urban” station is a preset on my old-school car radio.
So, I wasn’t completely out of the loop when rapper Eminem dropped his President Trump diss on television recently. “Lose Yourself” is one of the songs I play when I write.
It was good work. The lines about veterans coming back from Iraq and being told to go back to Africa were strong, and true, and that’s all you can ask from anyone’s writing.
So far, and I haven’t checked Twitter for a couple hours, Trump has not responded to Eminem’s on-point geopolitical, yet locally biting rap, and if he’s smart, he won’t. Slim Shady doesn’t have anything to lose, and he’s quicker with a syllable than Trump.
Snoop Dogg took a swing at Trump a while back, too. Snoop is another personal favorite. Not being content with listening to him on the radio, I own some of his albums.
Yeah. It seems Trump isn’t going over well with what we coyly call “the urban market,” which, like the phrase, “the Arab street,” hides darker words and thoughts.
It’s not enough.
What we need here is a rap anti-Trump anthem, and while Eminem’s freestyle may have made some noise, I want something bigger.
Remember, “We Are the World,” that nauseating, sappy charity anthem of some time ago?
I want something like that but good, edgy and danceable. Something suitable for the club, the corner and the car.
Get ‘em all together. Get Snoop. Get Lil Wayne. Jay Z. Lil’ Kim. Dr. Dre. Hell, get Sir Mix-a-Lot in there. Anybody you can think of who might want to join.
Turn ‘em loose, these writers and rhymers. No limits. Nothing is in bad taste, because we’re playing by Trump’s rules. Rap about Puerto Rico, health care, Las Vegas, the NRA, taking a knee, long weekends on the golf course, Oxycontin, heroin and the Russians.
Turn those fellas loose on Melania. What won’t they say about her naked pictures?
There’s gonna have to be a sanitized airplay version, but turn it all loose. Ludacris, I think, is the one to spit the Melania rhymes.
When you do the video, use holographic images of Tupac and Biggie and Eazy-E, rapping about health care and tax returns, and police shootings and riots. Make it a big video, 100 rappers, and Beyonce dressed up like Melania but with a little more junk in the trunk.
And for political cred, put Barack Obama in the back, sipping Hennessy and puffing a pipe, wearing a red velvet smoking jacket like a cool black Hugh Hefner. Keep it ex-presidential, but make sure the camera gets him bobbing his head.
When you release the single, announce that all proceeds will be donated to Black Lives Matter.
It’ll sell, and, like all rap music, it’ll sell to teenage white kids who live in the suburbs, because simple math says rap couldn’t have become successful without teenage white kids from the suburbs. It’ll sell in rural areas, too. What do you think white kids in Appalachia listen to—banjo music? Yeah. In 1930.
It took black football players to show us what the flag really means, and what a lot of white people think it means. Maybe 100 black rappers can finally get everyone to understand what Donald Trump really means.
It’s the best idea I’ve ever had, and nobody has to pay me a dime. I’d like to meet Snoop, though. I like meeting other writers.
Dion’s latest book, The Land of Trump in is a collection of his columns that can be rapped if you’ve got the patience.