Cakes Da Killa

When one describes hip-hop’s ascension to becoming the most popular genre of music, one cannot fail to include rap’s ability to give a voice to the voiceless. Rap lies in the holster of racial equity and justice, creating an avenue for those who had been dehumanized and disregarded by the systemic issues to speak for what’s right through provocative lyrics, socially immersive melodies, and mind-blowing performance. However, hip-hop’s “voice for the voiceless” mantra has not been applied to all rappers, specifically members of the LGBTQ+ community; homophobia roots itself in the cradle of hip-hop, evolving and appearing in many rapper’s songs to this day. In 2011, that barrier began to crumble, and that destruction began because of Cakes Da Killa. Atlanta-based hip-house artist Cakes Da Killa got his start rapping for fun in the halls of his high school before writing lyrics to instrumentals and posting his demos on Facebook. Now, his discography holds some of the best hip-hop tracks of the 2010’s, from his legendary features on clipping’s “Hot Fuck No Love” and Injury Reserve’s “What’s Goodie,” to his critically acclaimed projects “Hedonism” and “Muvaland,” to a wide array of singles that need to find a way to the top of your playlist, like “Luv Me Nots” and “Bed Rest.” Cakes da Killa’s music grabs you by the collar of your shirt and hurls you into the world of his songs; the unapologetic descriptions of his desires and experiences serve as the perfect antidote for the virus of homophobia that plagued hip-hop since its inception. Queerness and queer expression is the backbone behind Cakes da Killa’s unparalleled style and voice; there is not another artist in hip hop who sounds remotely close to him. Crafting a unique identity is what Cakes Da Killa wants to see future generations of black queer people accomplish, stating in an interview with Paper Magazine: "I think this should be the time where we celebrate Black artists. Tomorrow should be the time of celebrating Black artists. We should be doing that all the time." Cakes Da Killa’s advice for the future generations of black queer artists is to immerse themselves in past art of those before them; he, himself, reading E. Lynn Harris and black anthologies that motivated him to cultivate a sound unheard of ten years ago and to this day. At the end of the day, Cakes Da Killa’s advice for those in the LGBTQ+ trying to find their own voice: “just read a fucking book.”