This past weekend, the TDE emcee defended his fandom of Lil Pump, a South Floridian rapper who loves Xanax, has openly bragged about hitting girls and, earlier this year, was filmed randomly firing a gun out of a car window.
“‘Awe Q, why you listening to Lil Pump?'” he said on Snapchat. “Because bitch, I ain’t born like you. I don’t listen to one style of music. Niggas always in my comments when I play Lil Pump. Nigga I fuck with it.”
Having heard Lil Pump's newly-released, self-titled album this past weekend—to be clear, I skimmed through it because it was jarringly impossible to listen to any song for longer than 30 seconds—I have absolutely no clue what Q is hearing in Pump's music that has turned him into such a staunch supporter, but I'm not under the illusion Q only listens to rap music that sounds similar to what Q himself has produced.
“Look, my favorite rapper Nas, but if you think I just want to listen to that style of music all day every day, you a fucking idiot,” Q added. “And that’s probably why you in the same spot you stuck at. ‘Cause your mind ain’t open to new shit, different shit.”
What Q fails to mention in his video, but is central to his argument, is that time and place both play a key role in listening preferences and habits. For example, a hip-hop head who grew up during the '90s golden era might still prefer 21 Savage or Chief Keef during a workout, while a 17-year-old who was birthed after the Willennium and enjoys more intellectual lyricism might prefer Rakim or Public Enemy during a late-night listening session under headphones.
Not listening to Lil Pump doesn't make anyone a fucking idiot—the opposite might actually be true—but Q's overarching point is valid. Different people have different tastes, and criticizing others for listening to music they enjoy helps no one (and makes you sound like an asshole).
Variety is and always has been the spice of life and now, thanks to on-demand streaming and Generation Playlist, it's easier than ever before to consume everything and anything.