My wife and kids love Fetty Wap. In fact, I’d go so far as to say 75% of the people in America love Fetty Wap. Personally, his music is terribly mediocre, and there are too many rappers out there for me to be settling for one who really isn’t a rapper. We’ve come to this incredibly awkward moment in rap music where the rappers don’t know if they’re rapping or singing, and the singers have convinced themselves that they, too, are rappers. I blame T-Pain. That damn Rappa-Turnt-Sanga nonsense started a wave, and cats have been hopping on their lil’ surfboards ever since.
From there, it evolved through numerous Hip Hop artists, most notably Young Thug who not only shattered octaves (in a bad, bad way), but singlehandedly pushed the rap gibberish category to astronomical levels. Not only did we — his supporters — stop trying to decipher his meowing, but we pressed the collective [chill] button, and allowed him to use our doors and drink from our fountains.
But lo and behold, there’s a new character emerging from the shadows. And his name is Fetty Wap.
Overnight, he’s become a megastar, dominating and domineering the airwaves and livestreams with his quirky, off-key, off-beat musical odes to selling dope, shooting people, and other Post Traumatic Stress Disorder-inducing activities.
It got so bad that I questioned my taste in him. It seemed I was the only one not in the club.
I decided I’d adjust my filters and give him a chance.
Without judging the content of his music, watching him take the rap game over from the comfort of my couch, I was finally able to draw a conclusion about Fetty Wap.
Turns out that it’s not his music that I dislike. Well, I do dislike it, but wackness is an ever-expanding landscape. There’s more than enough meh to go around. Plenty of room, if you will. No, it’s not Wap’s catalog that bothers me. It’s his eye, or nub, or whatever technical term you deem appropriate to apply to that pink, moist patch of flesh he refuses to stop flashing at us. Call it a gimmick, call it a handicap, but I call it gross, with all due respect.
Fetty was humble in the beginning, but once he decided to tell the real story of what actually happened with his eye, his inhibitions disappeared. Suddenly, he’s taking pictures exposing his eyehole to the world as a part of his total package. It’s like a girl advertising how awesome her sex is by showing you her stretchmarks ahead of time.
To make matters worse, he admittedly wears fake dreadlock toupees like hats. And I’m pretty sure rappers arent supposed to do that type of thing, no matter how popular their song about crack is.
And this may be a bit off course, but imagine Slick Rick surprising Fetty Wap on stage during a show and gifting him with an old diamond-encrusted eyepatch.
So in closing, from this point onward, I won’t cringe when I hear a Fetty song, but if I think he’s in a picture, I’m going to hurry up and turn the page. Because I don’t need that kind of trauma.