BILL HABER | The Associated Press
Rapper Lil Boosie appears at a news conference in New Orleans March 10 after being
released from prison.
Over the past five years, it has been impossible to surf through a Twitter timeline without coming across the popular hashtag “#FreeBoosie.” The hashtag was used as a device to unify those in observance of the plight of the recently liberated Baton Rouge rapper, Torrence “Lil Boosie” Hatch.
Although the #FreeBoosie movement aimed to keep Hatch’s music prominent in the minds of longtime fans while recruiting new Boosie supporters during his stay in prison, upon his release many were still unconvinced that his massive following in the rap world is warranted.
Boosie’s lyrics, much like his storied return to rap, are among the most exciting things happening in the music world.
Among the popular rappers today, such as A$AP Rocky, Big K.R.I.T and Drake, there is one common thread: They owe a bit of their success to “trill.”
Similar to the #FreeBoosie trending topic that was used a vehicle to keep the conversation about Lil Boosie alive on the Internet, “trill” is a buzzword that has found a home on social media.
The word, coined by UGK, a Southern rap duo comprised of Bun B and the late Pimp C, is used to refer to someone who is authentic to the lifestyle, often detailed within the group’s “country rap tunes.” These themes include old-school cars with wood interiors and expensive stereo systems, late-night block parties and conversations with neighborhood elders, infused with thick Southern drawls, and enjoyed over 40-ounce bottles of Steel Reserve malt liquor.
In 2000, when Pimp C sought to found a label with business partners in Louisiana under the name Trill Entertainment, he recruited Lil Boosie and his frequent collaborator, Webbie, to carry on the spirit of trill that he began with Bun B.
In the context of 2014, trill as a concept has evolved. The phrase that began on the streets of Port Arthur, Texas, has grown into a statement of youth ambition and attitude around the world. It is plastered all over T-shirts and even found in the lyrics of “Real and True,” Miley Cyrus’ duet with Future.
As the true heir to the throne of trill and its ideals, Boosie is poised to be more at home in the current rap climate than the one he left in 2009.
When Boosie began his incarceration after being found guilty of drug charges, hip-hop music was far from the South-centric landscape it is today. Tha Carter III was brand-new, and Lil Wayne was still on fire from his stellar mixtape run. It was the same year that Gucci Mane laid his game-changing verse on Mariah Carey’s “Obsessed (Remix),” introducing the pop world to the new Southern underground. It was years before the influence of Lex Luger and Mike WiLL Made It on the composition of club music.
Boosie’s arrest came directly after the release of smash singles “Out Here Grindin” with DJ Khaled, “Independent” with Webbie and “Better Believe it” with Young Jeezy. As the visibility of Lil Wayne, T.I., Rick Ross, Young Jeezy and Gucci Mane began to skyrocket, Lil Boosie sat in a cell, unable to reach the world in the same way as the artists that were once his contemporaries.
What sets Boosie apart from these artists is his ability to deliver thoughtful reflection and timely correspondence to world events in his music, there is no further evidence of his prolific content than songs like “Dirty World,” in which he delves into topics such as the Michael Vick trial, the Recession and the Jena 6 controversy.
“People get they money and give it to other countries, when people in they same hood livin’ like junkies,” Boosie says on the aforementioned track before rapping a letter to former president George W. Bush through the airwaves. His voice always pierces through each song he raps on, making his words pierce deep, long after they are uttered.
He’s an artist who can slice through the surface of any subject to expose the emotion behind it. It is easy to judge staples in his catalog at face value without truly understanding the sentiment behind them.
Where a record like “Beat It Up” seems like a shallow ode to sex after tuning in just one time, further listens uncover a deeper slice-of-life approach to love and relationships. In just two verses, Boosie outlines several anecdotes involving run-ins with groupies, domestic disputes and custody battles. He finds by the end of the song that the physical expression of genuine love is the remedy to keeping a relationship together.
Immediately after being set free, Boosie took to YouTube to perform a freestyle in the car entitled “The Ride Home,” in which he reminded fans of his melodic, high-pitched delivery.
In a nod to the social media world that was responsible for maintaining interest in its artist, Atlantic Records held a press conference that streamed live on the Internet to clear the air regarding Boosie’s legal status and allow him to thank those who kept him in mind while he was away. Already thinking of how to adjust to the new music world he is stepping into, Boosie teased at one of the more than 1,000 songs he wrote in prison, included a collaboration with Justin Bieber.
During the two weeks that Torrence Hatch has been a free man, a beautiful opportunity came to light. There is a 31-year-old man who is just now beginning to understand what Instagram, FaceTime and a selfie are. An artist who has always had a knack for dense, descriptive slice-of-life lyrics has existed in isolation and now will be able to interpret culture with fresh eyes.
With an art form as crowded as rap music, is it worth getting excited about an artist who has been out of commission longer than many of his colleagues have been active?
In Boosie’s case, the answer is, “Yes.”
