‘What Happens When Children Are Raised Without God Nor A Strong Father Figure:’

Annie Harrigan
10 min readNov 22, 2020

--

The Hidden Meanings of “WAP” as an Implicitly Queer, Anti-Respectability Politics Site of Musical Resistance

[Author’s note: I had originally written this piece as an analytical essay for one of my classes at Harvard but after trying to explain to a few friends what I was writing about when I told them I was writing a paper on “WAP,” I decided to just publish the essay instead and let my analytical writing do the explaining.]

On August 7, 2020, rappers Cardi B (née Belcalis Marlenis Almanzar) and Megan Thee Stallion (née Megan Juvon Ruth Pete) released their first collaboration song “WAP” (Decker et al.; Walters). “WAP” — which stands for “wet-ass pussy” — is a sex positive, cunni-centric, intentionally vulgar rap song. For three minutes, Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion rap over a sample of Frank Ski’s “Whores in This House” about their sexual desires through innuendos, metaphors, and vivid imagery (Cardi B — WAP Lyrics; DJ Frank Ski — Whores In This House Lyrics). Following the release of the track came mixed reviews by media critics, a viral dance trend on the social media app TikTok, and — unsurprising but still bizarre — intense backlash from a male audience that was predominantly white (Caramanica; Placido). On the surface level, “WAP” is nothing more than another bass-heavy, vulgar rap song that is not family-friendly; but it is so much more than that. Because of its anti-respectability stance and vivid descriptions of non-normative sexual practices that Black women are engaging in, “WAP” is an implicitly queer musical site of resistance and an addition to the longstanding of Black musical resistance in the United States — a status that is only further cemented by the intense backlash the song received from a demographic it was not targeting.

Cardi B begins the first verse of “WAP” with an affirmation: “I said certified freak / Seven days a week.” Whether she knows it or not, Cardi B’s invoking of the word “freak” has a layered meaning rooted in Western constructions of normality and intense scrutiny of Black bodies. In her book Black Sexual Politics: African-Americans, Gender, and the New Racism, Patricia Hill Collins traces the historical use of the word “freak” beginning with: “the differing meanings associated with the term freak are situated at the crossroads of colonialism, science, and entertainment” (Collins 120). Under colonialism, Black people were viewed as primitive and were therefore freaks. Western pseudoscience constructed racial differences by searching Black bodies for signs of deviance (see: the case of Sarah Baartman, the “Hottentot Venus”) — for signs of freakiness. The popularity of freak shows established a new category of individual: anyone who fell outside of the boundaries of the colonially constructed “normal” — the freak of nature (Collins 120). Collins, using Missy Elliot’s 2001 hit “Get Your Freak On” and Rick James’s “Superfreak” as her foundation, then describes how the word “freak” now denotes sex that falls outside of the norm (Collins 120). This was the meaning that Cardi B was invoking when she followed “Certified freak/Seven days a week” with “Wet-ass pussy/ Make that pull-out game weak” — phrases that are inextricable from sex.

While Cardi B’s use of “freak” is rooted in the sexually deviant definition of the word, she is still a Black woman, and by Western colonial standards, a freak by all of the other definitions. Yet, in proudly exclaiming that she is in fact a “certified freak,” Cardi B sheds all of the negative connotations of the loaded word. Rather than letting outsiders call her a freak in a negative way, Cardi B takes it upon herself to do it — taking power over the way her body is viewed away from a Western colonial perspective. This reclamation of power symbolized by the reclamation of language is a project that has been going on for decades by marginalized groups as acts of resistance. The transformations of words like “nigger” and “queer” into a symbol of solidarity and an identifier, respectively, by those that they were originally meant to denigrate are examples of this. When Cardi B calls herself a freak, she announces to both other Black women and Western society that “freak” can no longer be used to slander “non-normative” Black bodies.

“WAP”’s musical resistance and reclamation of power goes beyond Cardi B’s use of the word “freak;” its explicitly sexual nature is a product of and an addition to a much longer history of Black musical resistance. From the Negro spirituals sung by enslaved Black people as a symbol of coalition building and empowerment to 1920s and 30s blues music used to express sexual freedom, Black music in the United States in and of itself has always been a site of musical resistance. The expression of sexuality, in particular, is a trend in Black music that can be traced back to the blueswomen of the 1920s and 30s. In “I Used to Be Your Sweet Mama” from Blues Legacies and Black Feminism, Angela Davis explains how in the decades following the abolition of slavery, the blues gave the newly freed Black community, particularly Black women, an outlet through which they can express their new social and sexual realities (Davis 4). Sexuality in Black music was born out of a desire to exhibit Black people’s newfound sexual autonomy after centuries of sexual subjugation. The music that came before it — spirituals and Gospel — was born out of a need to build coalitions and empower the Black community as they strived for freedom.

“WAP” represents the next step in this history of Black musical resistance: the expression of a new type of sexual autonomy — one that allows Black women the freedom to engage in non-normative sexual practices and be vocal about it. What makes the sexual practices described in “WAP” non-normative is actually not just the “freaky” nature of the song that — exemplified in lyrics like “Spit in my mouth, look in my eyes;” and “I wanna gag, I wanna choke /I want you to touch that little dangly dang / That swang in the back of my throat” (Cardi B — WAP Lyrics). Rather, it is the fact that two Black women are vocalizing their own sexual desires and fulfilling these desires out of wedlock. When the blues was born, Black people were given the freedom to exhibit a sexual and social autonomy that was more traditional and, therefore, assimilationist. This freedom was seen as one that allowed Black people to engage in the same sexual and social practices that white people were engaged in such as marriage and family building.

Now, one hundred years later, the sexual practices described by Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion are anything but traditional. Not once do ideas of marriage or children-bearing come up in “WAP.” Instead, Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion talk about the ways they wish to use men for their sexual pleasure and personal gain and the lengths men are willing to go just to please them. For example, on her first verse, Megan Thee Stallion raps the lyrics: “I tell him where to put it, never tell him where I’m ‘bout to be,” “Ask for a car while you ride that dick,” and “Pay my tuition just to kiss me / On this wet ass pussy /Now make it rain if you wanna / See some wet ass pussy” (Cardi B — WAP Lyrics). In these lyrics, Megan Thee Stallion is assigning a high value to what sex with her is worth — value rooted in expensive material goods and money (“Ask for a car” and “Make it rain”) as well as personal achievements (“Pay my tuition”) — while also making sure to drive home the fact that this is just a sexual relationship, and nothing more is to be expected (“I tell him where to put it, never tell him where I’m ‘bout to be”). These types of lyrics would have never been possible in the 1920s when Black people were just beginning to experiment with incorporating sexuality in their music.

Further, in rapping these types of sexually explicit lyrics, Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion do more than just add to the pre-existing history of Black musical resistance — they are also pushing against the politics of respectability forced onto Black women by sexualizing themselves. In “African-American Women’s History and The Metalanguage of Race,” Evelyn Brooks Higginbotham describes the politics of respectability as a means of racial uplift that stands at odds with the daily practices of “unassimilated” Black men and women. Furthermore, Higginbotham says: “The politics of ‘respectability’ disavowed, in often repressive ways, much of the expressive culture of the ‘folk,’ for example, sexual behavior, dress style, leisure activity, music, speech patterns, and religious worship patterns” (Higginbotham 272). Throughout “WAP,” Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion push back against the repressive culture of respectability politics by subscribing their value to just their sex organs — to their “wet-ass pussies.” It is not their personalities or their talent that convinces men to provide for them, it is their “WAP”s. It is what makes men pay their tuition, buy them cars, and purchase phones. In emphasizing the fact that their vaginas are “wet-ass pussies,” and therefore better than others, their “WAP”s are seen as their most powerful and alluring character traits, not something that is impeding the progression of Black people in society.

Much like the history of Black music and the lyrical content of “WAP,” the song’s reception by Conservative figures in the media further cements it as a site of musical resistance. On the day of the song’s release, Republican 2020 House candidate, James P. Bradley tweeted: “Cardi B & Megan Thee Stallion are what happens when children are raised without God and without a strong father figure. Their new “song” The #WAP (which i heard accidentally) made me want to pour holy water in my ears and I feel sorry for future girls if this is their role model!” (“James P. Bradley on Twitter”). Likewise, conservative political commentator, Ben Shapiro, also took offense to the song. In an video on the Daily Wire, Ben Shapiro awkwardly read a censored version of the song and followed his recitation of the lyrics with an anti-feminist rant about how feminism is not about women being treated as “independent, full-rounded human beings;” rather, feminism is about “wet-ass p-words” (“Jordan on Twitter”). What these two do not realize is that “WAP” was meant to dismay and confuse white men, not entice them. White men were not supposed to relate to lyrics about needing “a Henny drinker” (a reference to how Hennessey is popular in the Black community — something that only Black people would recognize) nor were they supposed to see themselves as the Henny drinker. “WAP” pushes white men to the margins by centering Black women’s experiences and desires and not including them in the desires. For the first time in their lives, white men who listen to “WAP” are not at the center of something. They have no power in the world that “WAP” creates, and such world-building is an active form of musical resistance.

This exact type of anti-respectability politics world-building that is rooted in non-normative sexual behaviors is what makes “WAP” implicitly queer. While “WAP” may not be “queer” in that it has anything to do with the LGBTQ+ community (although Cardi B is openly bisexual and Megan Thee Stallion has implied that she may be too), the song is rooted in a different type of queer politic — the type that Cathy Cohen advocates for in her essay “Punks, Bulldaggers, and Welfare Queens.” Cohen calls for a queer politic that encompasses all non-normative sexualities — without disregarding the fact that LGBTQ+ identities are disproportionately affected in certain cases. Cohen explains that because Black women’s sexualities have been policed since slavery and all sexual behaviors of Black women are seen as non-normative, all Black women sexuality is non-normative — heterosexual or not (Cohen 456). If “queer” signifies non-normative sexual practices — the same practices that are exemplified in “WAP” — and can encompass Black women by Cohen’s logic, then do Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion’s not fit society’s definition of “queer?”

What on the surface level is just an upbeat song about Black women having the type of sex that they want and showing love for their bodies, “WAP” stands for so much more. Intentionally or not, Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion added to a new type of Black musical resistance when they released this song. Further, using Cohen’s logic, “WAP” queers this type of Black musical resistance because it exhibits how non-normative Black women’s sex practices can be. Just as important as the stakes it holds, “WAP” is also just a really good song. This site of resistance and non-normativity is also fun, catchy, vulgar, and empowering. For three minutes, listeners receive a lesson on Black musical traditions, sexual non-normativity, respectability politics, and resistance while the two talented Black women on the track exhibit just how skilled they are with words, rhythm, and flow making “WAP” so much better than a typical history lesson.

Works Cited:

Cardi B — WAP Lyrics | AZLyrics.Com. https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/cardi-b/wap.html. Accessed 20 Oct. 2020.

Cardi B Facts — 45 Things You Didn’t Know About Cardi B. https://www.harpersbazaar.com/celebrity/latest/g20634894/cardi-b-trivia-facts/. Accessed 20 Oct. 2020.

Cohen, Cathy J. “Punks, Bulldaggers, and Welfare Queens: The Radical Potential of Queer Politics?” GLQ: A Journal of Lesbian and Gay Studies, vol. 3, no. 4, May 1997, pp. 437–65, doi:10.1215/10642684–3–4–437.

Definition of Prostitute — Google Search. https://www.google.com/search?q=definition+of+prostitute&rlz=1C1CHBF_enUS916US916&oq=defin&aqs=chrome.0.69i59l2j69i57j0i433i457j0i433j69i60j69i61j69i60.1163j0j7&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8. Accessed 20 Oct. 2020.

DJ Frank Ski — Whores In This House Lyrics | Genius Lyrics. https://genius.com/Dj-frank-ski-whores-in-this-house-lyrics. Accessed 20 Oct. 2020.

Higginbotham, Evelyn Brooks. “African-American Women’s History and the Metalanguage of Race.” Signs, vol. 17, no. 2, University of Chicago Press, 1992, pp. 251–74. JSTOR.

Hill Collins, Patricia 2005. “Black Sexual Politics: African Americans, Gender and the New Racism” Routledge

“James P. Bradley on Twitter.” Twitter, https://twitter.com/BradleyCongress/status/1291735105774522368. Accessed 20 Oct. 2020.

“Jordan on Twitter.” Twitter, https://twitter.com/JordanUhl/status/1292901692191760389. Accessed 20 Oct. 2020.

The Mass Humiliation Of Ben Shapiro. https://www.forbes.com/sites/danidiplacido/2020/08/11/the-importance-of-humiliating-ben-shapiro/#42222d4d4270. Accessed 20 Oct. 2020.

The Stunning Transformation of Megan Thee Stallion. https://www.thelist.com/234547/the-stunning-transformation-of-megan-thee-stallion/. Accessed 20 Oct. 2020.

‘WAP’ Is Good, Raunchy Fun. On TikTok, It’s at Home. — The New York Times. https://www.nytimes.com/2020/08/28/arts/music/wap-cardi-b-megan-thee-stallion-ppcocaine.html. Accessed 20 Oct. 2020.

--

--

Annie Harrigan
Annie Harrigan

Written by Annie Harrigan

Senior at Harvard studying History & Literature and Gender Studies whose passion is writing about music.