Diving Into Southern Hip Hop Roots: Blues, Crunk, and Trap

Man, the love for hip-hop? It's like it's woven into my DNA. My earliest memories are riding shotgun in my dad's muscle cars, the bass rattling my bones as we cruised to Too $hort, Big Daddy Kane, Run-DMC, Kool Moe Dee. That raw energy, that storytelling – it was a soundtrack to my childhood. But the South… the South took it to a whole new level.

People think they know Southern hip-hop, but they don't know the half of it. They think it started with the crunk era. Nah, this thing goes deeper. Did you know the Jubalaires, a gospel group from Florida in the '30s and '40s, were laying down rhymes that sound like early rap? That's right, Florida, the birthplace of something that sounded like rap before rap was even a widely known thing. It's like Nate Dogg said, 'Time does change, but the music it remains the same /I hit 'em with the music from the slave /Oh my goodness, what my ancestors gave.' We're talking roots that stretch back to the blues, to the spirituals sung in the fields. But that's a whole other conversation, a conversation we need to have.

Let's get back to the music that set my soul on fire. Pimp C, Bun B, T.I., OutKast – they had me in a chokehold. Lil Wayne, that kid from the South, repping Cash Money? He spoke to a generation. 'Look, I don't curse, but in this verse, man, F the world!' That was a teenage anthem, especially growing up in the hoods of the South. Scarface, 'I Seen a Man Die,' that track hit you in the gut, made you face the reality of the streets.

And then there was 1998, Trick Daddy's 'Nann,' and Trina, that tropical twist ponytail, those lyrics that made you clutch your pearls. A moment in time, where every female hip hop fan from the south knows every single word to this day. Club nights in college, me and my roommate, the only girls bouncing with the guys to Pastor Troy, 'No Mo Play in GA.' They wanted us to 'back that thang up,' but we were feeling that raw, unapologetic energy.

Atlanta? Forget about it. OutKast, Goodie Mob, the whole hip-hop weirdo movement. 'Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik,' 'Soul Food' – they redefined what hip-hop could be. And let's not forget T.I., Ludacris, 3-6 Mafia, UGK, Field Mob, 8Ball & MJG. Legends.

And it ain't stopping. J. Cole, right here in North Carolina, one of the best. Rapsody, a lyrical force. KRIT, Domani, JID, Earthgang, Deante Hitchcock, Megan Thee Stallion, Moneybagg Yo, GloRilla, and Doechii, bringing it back to Florida. The South keeps pushing boundaries, keeps evolving, keeps telling its story. And I'm here for every single verse.