Published in the Quad-City Times on May 8, 2024

I could see what was coming in a rap beef between Kendrick Lamar and Drake. 

I expected it to consume social media discourse, and it has. I figured Kendrick Lamar, the savvier lyricist with more vigorous verses, would come out on top, and he has. 

But this squabble — indisputably the most lucrative, high-profile rap feud of the century — has been defined by what I didn’t see coming: the tangled, permanent mess.

A brief recap for those who aren’t familiar: in 2023, J. Cole and Drake collaborated on “First Person Shooter,” a song where Cole declared himself, Drake and Kendrick Lamar as rap’s “big three.” Lamar took it personally, rebutting that “it’s just big me” in a grisly feature on Metro Boomin and Future’s “Like That.” Both songs went No. 1.

J. Cole fired back with a noticeably half-hearted Kendrick diss, “7 Minute Drill,” before immediately apologizing and deleting the song. With that backpedal, Cole removed himself from the ring and is now presumably rapping on a farm somewhere.

Two weeks later, Drake dropped “Push Ups” and went after Kendrick’s shoe size. He then doubled down with “Taylor Made Freestyle,” a song that used AI to mimic the voice of Kendrick’s L.A. heroes Snoop Dogg and 2Pac, accusing the rapper of chasing pop fame by collaborating with Taylor Swift (because of course she came up). 

Then, things got out of hand fast. 

In the last week, seven more diss tracks have dropped. Kendrick delivered “euphoria,” “6:16 in LA,” “meet the grahams” and “Not Like Us.” Drake countered with “Family Matters,” “Buried Alive Parody” and “The Heart Part 6.” 

The allegations on these songs were severe. Kendrick accused Drake of having questionable relationships with underage girls, being a parasite to American rap culture and parenting (another) hidden child. Drake drew his own conclusions from lyrics on Kendrick’s latest album “Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers,” calling Kendrick an abuser and false prophet. 

The dust has settled, and the war seems to be over. Given the more accessible history to his accusations and the sheer triple and quadruple entendres layered into his lyricism, Kendrick is the obvious winner.

Though it really feels more people lost than won. The punchlines on the disses were often women, used as lyrical body shields. Real people will reckon with the collateral damage. Someone got shot at Drake’s Toronto home on Tuesday. These allegations will cling to each rapper’s legacy forever. 

The relentlessly catchy and villainous “Not Like Us” is well on its way to being the song of the summer. People in clubs worldwide will be chanting lyrics about Drake and his team being outsiders and pests. It’s a hit. 

But frankly, I don’t know how either rapper can make hits again. There’s a good chance we’ll never again get a rap beef like this.

We probably won’t ever have rappers like this, either. Drake, a decade-defining Midas with an immeasurable cultural footprint. Kendrick, a Pulitzer Prize-winning virtuoso with three of the greatest albums ever written. Growing up as a 21st-century rap fan, these two shaped and molded my perspective on the genre. 

So if you’re sick of the griminess of this nuclear rap feud, let me take a victory lap for Kendrick by highlighting a few of his most underrated tracks from the simpler times, when our rap gods still felt like gods.

“XXX (feat. U2)” (2017)

Let’s start with possibly my favorite Kendrick song, from my favorite Kendrick album, 2017’s “DAMN.” The song’s back half has woozy vocals from U2 frontman Bono, but the production on the front half is what really sells it.

There, mellow synths get shredded by knife-like hi-hats, record scratches and police sirens. Kendrick also flexes his biggest non-lyrical muscle: his vocal flexibility, shifting tones from phlegmatic to maleficent at the drop of a beat. “XXX” is his most slept-on gem. 

“Poetic Justice (feat. Drake)” (2012)

Yes, once upon a time, Drake and Kendrick were on good terms.

“Poetic Justice” is an airy reprieve from the blistering weight of “good kid, m.A.A.d. city,” Kendrick’s first full-length opus. It’s still one of my favorite Drake features ever, and its narrative fits neatly into the album’s coming-of-age tale. It’s not the best song on the album, but it’s the breeziest listen, a sonic bead of sweat from the leaves of a California palm. 

“Kush & Corinthians (feat. BJ The Chicago Kid)” (2011)

Drake initially earned his acclaim as the master of sad, R&B-adjacent raps. But if you ask me, Kendrick is an even more skilled emotional Geppetto.

That was clear from his first album “Section.80,” which includes this ballad about violence, where — despite the dense subject matter — Kendrick glides on the mic. “Kush & Corinthians” walked so Kendrick’s poetic classics like “u” and “Sing About Me, I’m Dying Of Thirst” could run. 

“Institutionalized” (2015)

It’s tough to pick a favorite song on 2015’s Grammy-winning “To Pimp A Butterfly.” It’s even tougher to pick against climactic lead single “I.” But I nominate “Institutionalized,” which features the real Snoop Dogg (No AI here, Drake). 

In many ways, this song is a thematic bridge between the violence described on “good kid, m.A.A.d. city.” and the temptations described on “DAMN.” It’s instrumentally jazzy, meandering from one realization to another. But ultimately, it ends with Kendrick claiming the rap throne: “Remember steal from the rich and give it back to the poor? That’s me at these awards.” 

“Count Me Out (2022)”

I still remember where I was when I heard this song for the first time. While driving back to my apartment, I put on “Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers” for the first time and was mostly impressed with side one.

Then side two delivered “Count Me Out,” a dynamic track that opens with the ethos of a big-stage orchestra. By the midpoint, metronomic deep breaths and drum punches give the song a full pivot to trap balladry. Like many moments on this record, Kendrick asserts to his fans that he is not their savior. 

“Some put it on the Devil when they fall short,” he raps. “I put it on my ego, lord of all lords.”

“untitled 07 | 2014-2016” (2016)

Kendrick’s 2016 demo tape “untitled unmastered.” is, of course, his least polished work. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t a few gems. The one I revisit most often is “untitled 07,” an 8-minute multi-part rap saga.

The shivering guitars on the first verse stand in brutal contrast to the fuzzy, mostly a capella conclusion. I wish this one made it past the demo folder.