The music video for "Who I Fume" currently has over 20 million views on YouTube. On a surface level, it's a campy spin on Vanessa Carlton's "A Chiliad Miles," similar to Baltimore rapper YTK's recent Mariah Carey-inspired "Permit It Off." The video shows Florida artists Spinabenz, Whoppa Wit Da Choppa, Yungeen Ace, and FastMoney Goon wylin' out on a golf class with all their jewels on while they rap. It's as if the video treatment came from the aforementioned Wayans Brothers who wrote the infamous scene of Terry Crews singing "A Thousand Miles" in White Chicks.

The "Who I Smoke" video is the kind of ironic, outlandish content that makes for great social media fodder. It's hard non to gawk at. But a deeper understanding of the lyrics should make most want to turn away in discomfort. The vocal'southward championship, "Who I Fume," refers to the slang of "smokin'" dead enemies. The phrase "smokin on (insert person)" pack has assimilated into the net lexicon to boldness the likes of Rush Limbaugh, only similar and so many things in pop culture, it came at the expense of a Blackness life. Chicago youth coined the term in the early on 2010s to joke nearly a fifteen-year-quondam rival who was fatally shot ("smoked"), allegedly a sick twist on the story that The Outlawz smoked their friend Tupac'southward ashes.

Information technology'south on that grisly premise that "Who I Smoke" lies. The song is a manifestation of a generation that knows nothing else but the internet being a free-for-all—and at present it's their plough. They've seen rappers use the digital infinite to diss their enemies and gain traction for it; they've seen people employ social media to fan the flames of local beefiness; and they're thirsty for social media fame.

When you grow upwards in proximity to an endless wheel of gun violence and want to assert your side's superiority, a mutual road to alluring viral attending is to get as disrespectful as possible. We saw 50 Cent push button limits with his antics vs. Rick Ross in 2009. Many recoiled when Chief Keef joked virtually the death of Lil JoJo on Twitter in 2012, or when his young man Chicagoans made songs reeling off the names of "dead opps." A couple of years subsequently, the world was captivated past 6ix9ine's "exam my gangster" operation, replete with an entire gang set up as supporting bandage.

The "Who I Fume" rappers, and some of their young peers, may not know any better than their social media antics, simply older fans do. People of a certain age remember the negative elements of the Chicago drill scene's rise. Young suburbanites lived vicariously through Chicago gang violence by using videos and social media to link certain drill artists to gangs. They spectated Twitter arguments and Instagram Alive sessions. People who weren't fifty-fifty total-fourth dimension artists became social media stars for their proximity to drill artists. Some made fortunes off pathologizing the kids equally "savages." The sensationalism tied to the scene hurt their ability to perform in their home metropolis, and served as further impetus for cops to surveil them.

Most reactions to what's going on in Jacksonville right now indicate that we're already headed down a similar path to what happened in Chicago. There'southward been a lot of hysteria about "Who I Smoke" and Foolio's Fantasia-sampling "When I See You lot" respond, and there'due south a whole crop of kids who are enjoying having new "real" heroes to spectate. At that place are others gawking at the scene every bit if they represent a new depression for humanity. And a minority is watching the scene with business, hoping the artists tin shake the conditioning of their surroundings and use their talents to lead productive lives. Whatever people end up doing after watching "Who I Smoke," the of import role for the creators is that—for better or worse—they're watching.

Nosotros got to this point afterward a series of dramatic changes over the years, and we can thank the internet and social media for expanding the war chest of rap beef. Artists had relatively limited opportunities to talk their shit during the early 2000s, besides the occasional TV or radio appearance and magazine feature. But a changing media mural, led by contained journalists, soon gave them new venues to air out enemies.

Tru Life hacked Jim Jones' MySpace page and posted edited photos feminizing the Dipset capo. The Game released an unabridged DVD dissing 50 Cent and K-Unit, including footage of him walking up to 50's Connecticut mansion. In that location was even the YouTuber who took information technology upon themself to respond to Cam'ron's "Swagger Jacker" Jay-Z diss with their own concocted clip of Cam'ron "biting" other MCs' lyrics.

The beef documentaries capitalized on fans' interest in controversy by offering up the behind-the-scenes stories behind rap conflicts. Street DVDs similar SMACK DVD, The Come Upwards DVD, Cocaine Urban center, and Sub-O DVD fulfilled fans' desire for intimate access to artists. They went anywhere and captured tensions between not just star artists, but their crews. Of a sudden, rap beef wasn't just nigh dueling songs or waiting 3 months to read what someone had to say about a foe in a magazine. These new, raw media platforms were allowing for instant smoke.

Sites like YouTube, WorldstarHipHop, OnSMASH, ForbezDVD, and others picked upward from the DVDs equally resource for artists not only to have in-depth interviews and share videos (including disses) but to drop clips dissing their rivals.

While some may point the finger at how disrespectful rap beefiness has get, information technology's likewise worth noting that these songs have millions of listeners. Many rap consumers want this violence.


These avenues gained more attention not only for stars, but lesser known artists. French Montana, who started Cocaine City, used his platform to gain notoriety via videos featuring him and Max B dissing Jim Jones — and waiting outside Jones' studio sessions. During the early stages of the 50 Cent vs. Rick Ross beef, artists like late G-Unit chapter Mazaradi Pull a fast one on and a then-relatively unknown Gunplay became known on Worldstar, setting a precedent where it wasn't merely two artists going at it; members of an artist's entourage could gain a higher profile past jumping into the fray, as well. Rap crews had the freedom to say whatever they wanted, unbound by radio or MTV regulations—and the boldness was flagrant. To near listeners at the time, Pac's "MOB" and Biggie's "team in the marine blueish" were only faceless references when the two artists checked them on records. Imagine how much more racket (and danger) there would have been during their conflict if both respective crews were in the public space, egging on violence.

That dynamic paved the fashion for what nosotros later saw from those in the orbit effectually drill music scenes. People like 6ix9ine's erstwhile manager Shotti didn't even rap, simply he kept beef going with his repast ticket'south rivals. These people had less to lose and more to evidence, which means they were willing to get nastier and escalate a state of war of words toward bodily violence.

Rappers weren't the but people using the cyberspace as a battlefield. Oxford Bookish reported that "gang-associated youth employ online platforms similar Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram to taunt rivals and trade insults in means that cause offline retaliation," though they also qualified that "there is surprisingly fiddling empirical enquiry investigating how gang-associated youth really deploy social media in gang conflicts and to what event." Forrest Stuart, a Stanford educator conducted a report with "threescore immature men affiliated with gangs" and establish that "reverse to mutual belief, the majority of social media challenges remain confined to online space and practise not generate offline violence." But these arguments notwithstanding stir a contentious atmosphere in neighborhoods rocked by gun violence. These platforms led young people with proximity to gangs to crave local hood fame and online notoriety via social media. And things frequently escalate fifty-fifty more than quickly when they have rap aspirations.

While those who grew up in and around these communities were already used to such madness, the rest of the world was first exposed to digital gang beefiness upon the ascension of the Chicago drill scene. The globe collectively gasped when Chief Keef joked about the death of rival rapper Lil JoJo, but those already in tune with the scene knew that this young generation of rival neighborhoods were always interacting disrespectfully on social media.

Keef's tweet magnified how much Chicago'south decades-long gang disharmonize had pervaded the city's rap scene. Neighborhood friends of artists got on the radar of rap fans because they were referenced in songs or seen in videos. Reddit pages and social media accounts popped up dedicated to chronicling arguments between rival rappers and their crews. What was marketed in the rap media as rap beefiness was really gang beef that spilled into the music. Instead of traditional rap disses with name flips or music-orientated insults, artists would drop songs dissing entire gangs, spitting on the memories of their dead enemies. Artists vied to up the dues (and the engagement) past beingness more disrespectful than the concluding song, reeling off longer and more vicious assaults on the dead. And outside the booth, they would further the tension by tweeting out jokes almost slain rivals.

Rap fans accept long been enamored with artists who rhyme about their gang ties in their music and give a glimpse of the lifestyle in videos. Social media offered an even more than intimate opportunity to spectate gang civilization and put a face on the people in the midst of the conflict.

6ix9ine admits to beingness influenced by the Chicago drill scene. The controversial rapper capitalized on the public's digital bloodthirst more than than anyone. He's a product of the social media generation that gained attention pre-rap, with antics like performing wrestling moves on bra-and-panty-clad women. Social engagement seems like the most important thing in his life, leading him to apply an attention-at-all-costs mentality to rap with infamous consequences.

His daily calls for rap rivals and gang members alike to "test my gangster" didn't stay relegated to the internet. 6ix9ine got into a fight with a crew of people in Minnesota during Super Basin LIl festivities, and with Rap-A-Lot affiliated artists at LAX. He had his crew rob two people that he erroneously thought were besides with Rap-A-Lot in New York (and reportedly filmed it). His beef with Casanova reportedly acquired a shooting at Brooklyn'south Barclays Center, and he testified that he had someone shoot at Chief Keef in 2018 after they got into information technology online.

Even though 6ix9ine ended upward temporarily incarcerated along with the Nine Trey Bloods he told on, his strategy was working for a time. He realized that the cyberspace ecosystem rewards shocking content, and he could plow his engagement into sales. The infamy he gained from beefiness helped him build a large fanbase that catapulted him to the meridian of the Billboard charts. The human action of starting beef, gaining attending, and turning the hysteria into money has get a risky blueprint for anyone longing to quickly gain attention on social media.

That's the world that these young Duval County rappers grew upwardly in, and they're following some of the same tactics as their predecessors. They're part of a generation of rappers who can't properly dissever the streets from their profession—and they're getting momentarily rewarded for not existence able to. The major beef in the city is centered effectually rise rappers Foolio and Yungeen Ace, as well as all their affiliates. They've used social media to antagonize each other, similar when Yungeen Ace affiliate Ksoo got football game role player Leonard Fournette to hold upward a Mike Bibby jersey, unknowingly making light of Foolio's 16-year-old friend Bibby (who Ksoo was recently charged with murdering). They took reward of the momentary hype of the Clubhouse app by holding rooms where they antagonized each other. The sad reality is that their arguments could be considered a twisted course of rap marketing, as they satiated their impressionable fans' desire for drama.

Conflict is a surefire way for artists to proceeds notoriety. Disrespectful records like "Who I Smoke" are going to stitch the numbers for a time, but none of the fans who thirst for these antics are ever there when artists endure the consequences of their actions. Julio Foolio recently told Complex that "the fans play a big part." He noted, "The aforementioned fashion our job is to wake upward and rap, information technology'southward well-nigh equally if some of these fans' jobs is to wake up and troll under Foolio'south annotate section." Yungeen Ace added, "The fans make this shit even deeper, and it turns into a pride matter… These folks don't care that nosotros're talking almost real people because this is the entertainment industry, and they simply desire expert music." To fans, it's merely entertainment, even if people are dying behind it.

In that location accept been numerous troubling instances of artists dying right after the release of incendiary diss songs. DC rapper OG ManMan was killed soon after releasing "Truth," a diss vocal paired with a video depicting him at a rival's grave site. Chicago rapper Lli Marc was also killed days afterward releasing his OTF diss "No Competition." In that location'due south no way to know the circumstances of their deaths, but inflammatory disses help feed a trigger-happy climate. That's why King Von's uncle Range Rover Hand urged Lil Durk to terminate dissing expressionless rivals after his brother DThang was tragically murdered last weekend.

The lyrics on these aren't just bars—lives were lost. They deserve more than to exist commodified as part of America's lust for Black death.


So far, the Duval County scene has been engaged with past fans in a similar mode to Chicago drill: The artists' music is being overlooked in lieu of gawking at their conflicts. And we've already seen the larger consequences of defining a scene by its worst moments. The New York, London, and Chicago establishment has used sensational media coverage to stagnate their corresponding drill movements: stopping shows, surveilling artists, and veritably exiling its biggest stars. We've seen police departments weaponize the sensationalism by criminalizing artists, their lyrics, and even their social media footprint to ensnare them in sweeping gang indictments and RICOs. The justice system'due south predatory tactics haven't had the level of pushback they deserve because so much of the public buys the hype that these artists are "savages."

While some may point the finger at how disrespectful rap beef has become, it'south also worth noting that these songs have millions of listeners. Many rap consumers want this violence. Rap music has become a multibillion dollar industry in function considering it feeds racist fantasies about who Black people are. The further the lines are blurred between rap and the streets, the more that listeners can get their fix of Blackness dysfunction (with no personal consequences). The ongoing fallout of Male monarch Von'southward death is one of the more glaring examples, with fans spectating every evolution like it'due south a reality prove. There are as well many rap consumers and rap media professionals who may like rap music, merely couldn't intendance less about the people making the music. The lyrics on songs similar "Who I Smoke," FBG Duck's "Dead Bitches," and more aren't just bars—lives were lost. They deserve more than to be commodified equally part of America's lust for Black decease.

There'southward a well-meaning inclination to theorize that young artists who reflect the violence in their cities are simply products of their surround, simply nosotros should offer them more regard than to pretend they take no agency. These are intent decisions fabricated past human beings looking for a specific reaction and interim out confronting perilous conditions. The earth is anti-Black; it makes sense that they lash out at this reality through war with faces that wait like their own.

Instead of gasping at them and moving on, or coddling their actions with theorizing that doesn't address the root of the problem, we should enquire each other some questions: Why is the value of Black life and so depression to and so many people? What does information technology say nigh our social club that lampooning Black decease is deemed entertaining? How much of this morbid humor is well-nigh hordes of young people laughing to go along from crying or admitting their fright of life's fragility?

Renowned scholar and activist Kwame Ture once proclaimed, "History doesn't repeat itself… null can." The tragedy of underserved Blackness communities, which we run across through rap, isn't a generational bicycle, merely a systematic degradation of humanity that's only getting deadlier as the toolbox expands. The net gives people the means to keep upwards conflict in forepart of the whole world. And it likewise gives people who will never venture into certain neighborhoods a pale in fueling the violence inside them. Instead of observing all of this, feeling powerless to the cycle, we can cease the process.

It'southward common knowledge that acting out is a sign of low self-esteem and loneliness. Doing so on social media may but exist a promise that the likes and views gained equally a effect tin can temporarily fill a hole that social club doesn't intendance to. The young people in Chicago, Jacksonville, Brooklyn, and so many other cities aren't the only groups using the internet to act out. Only living in an inequitable arrangement ways they're the only people facing mortiferous consequences for it.

During an interview with YouTuber Cam Capone, Foolio reflected on his beefiness with Yungeen Ace and as well admitted, "Damn, I be thinkin,' what if all us was like one? Like together… We would exist powerful." It'south possible. But everyone would showtime take to be in a infinite to see the bigger picture show.

It took Gucci Mane and Jeezy experiencing the condolement of fiscal security and clarity of age to squash their differences and come to an understanding. Unfortunately, also many rappers were killed before they reached that point, in function because their music was so criminalized that it cost them opportunities and kept them in the hood, mired in a counterproductive mindset. Every onlooker who fans the flames of these beefs—from fans to media—is complicit in standing that bike. Mayhap going frontward, we could exist more cognizant of how to best appoint with violent social media antics. It's a matter of life and death.