by William Curvan “The Daily Wire’s strongest soldier”
When I heard that Ben Shapiro had dropped his debut single, I left my infant son Charles on the Koala Kare changing station platform and ran across the city to the record store. I took the record into the windowless, private listening room in the back to give this “track” a “spin,” and let me tell you, hoo doggy, it was something (and sorry if the hip-hop language confuses my audience, it’s just sort of how I talk).
For those who don’t know, Ben Shapiro is an aspiring hip-hop artist who came up from the “trenches” (Burbank, California) and has always had dreams of making it big in the industry. He’s been shy about rapping for years, always bashfully saying things like “rap isn’t music.” But the Shapiro hip-hop truthers, few though we are, knew he would become the cipher-spitting poet he was always meant to be.
In a tragically short three-minute song, Ben Shapiro makes his foray into the strange and confusing world of hip-hop, guided by the gentle, soft hands of industry titan Tom MacDonald, who has no doubt been imparting brutal and valuable lessons on the baby-faced Shapiro.
I’ve been a hip-hop-head my whole life, but was always put off by the nagging, liberal, woke message that permeates today’s rap bands. In fact, it was downright refreshing to hear Tom MacDonald “spit” the bar, “Claim that I’m racist, yeah, right, I’m not ashamed because I’m white.” It’s something you don’t hear enough in hip-hop anymore, and I commend Tom for being brave enough to say this.
But of course, Tom MacDonald also took the time to showcase his deep appreciation of hip-hop history with the line, “You defunded the police, now there’s no one to protect you.” This is an oh-maj, as we say, to the pro-policing message woven into the fabric of hip-hop by the fathers of the genre (for instance, who could forget the sophomore album by notorious Omaha rap trio Slim Beezy’s Bunch, titled “Municipal police departments need army surplus”).
After MacDonald absolutely shattered the beat into pieces, I knew it was about to be Ben’s verse. I trembled in anticipation. My forehead was sweaty, and my fingernails were purple and cold.
“Let’s look at the stats, I’ve got the facts.”
My sphincter loosened and I soiled myself. The delivery was impeccable, and he went on to show his full range of vocal and lyrical prowess. For instance, we have the line, “My money like Lizzo, my pockets are fat.” In the rap community, we call this a “burn,” and it derives from battle rap, a genre in which tough-talking, veteran rappers try to win over an audience by calling each other fat.
I’ll shorten my review and say that the rest was just as good as this. In his final line, Ben calls his fans to actions. “All my people download this, let’s get a Billboard number one.” This rapping tactic, known as “jebbing,” involves directing your audience to listen to your song more.
I heeded Ben’s advice. After listening, I went on TOR and spent $40,000 (“forty racks,”’ as we call them) to hire a click farm in Tuvalu to give the song an additional two million listens on Spotify, Apple Music, Pandora, Yahoo Tunes, Record Bin, Vinylr, Songify, and TrackSmash. Ben, I want so bad for your dreams of becoming a rapper to be true and I would do anything for you. Please Ben. Please.
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