It feels laughable to attempt to write “scholarly” sentences about an album like Quavo Huncho. Speaking “eloquently” on the debut release from Migos’ “star” only serves to highlight the white perspective from which it’s coming, not to mention just how base the rhymes are, but nonetheless, there’s nothing to be done. At least Lil’ Wayne, who paved the way for the sound and vocal manipulation that Quavo has taken the torch from, explores such themes as mortality (“Life is the bitch, and death is her sister/Sleep is the cousin, we’re a fuckin’ family picture”), in addition to creating food similes such as, “Real Gs move in silence like lasagna”). That just isn’t the case with Quavo, who keeps it strictly cliche with raps of wealth and pussy (will he buy the Fendi shawl to show his love for both?).
Of course, one thing Quavo has a slight edge over Lil’ Wayne on is being ever so slightly more chauvinistic. It tends to come with getting rich and famous as a man at twenty-two (as he is intent to point out from the get-go). Thus, the misogynistic leanings of the album commence tout de suite on “BIGGEST ALLEY OOP,” during which time, Quavo demands, “Lil’ bitch (uh), hop on the stick, uh (hop on the stick).” Yeah, no thanks. A vibrator is likely better. Keeping the obsession with “bags” going that Cardi B brought to the forefront when she claimed Nicki Minaj has been trying to stop her bags (ergo Nicki’s release of bag-expanding merchandise inspired by the feud), Quavo is also sure to brag, “Who got the biggest bag in the room?” Lil’ Wayne, luckily, has somewhat evolved idle talk of riches on his far more listenable Tha Carter V.
For anyone who was coherent from the years that found Lil’ Wayne rising to mainstream success (starting with “Go DJ” in 2004), it was easy to pinpoint that he was one of the trailblazers for making the vocoded sound popular, quickly followed and showed up by T-Pain (one of the finest examples of vocoder usage being his feature on Jamie Foxx’s “Blame It” from 2008). In fact, the two would eventually join forces on “Can’t Believe It” (also in 2008, and perhaps an even better example than “Blame It” of vocoded glory) for a music video that likely kept some vintage store on Hollywood Boulevard open a little bit longer for its use of top hats.
“PASS OUT” (and what’s with rappers needing to capitalize all their song titles à la Beyoncé and Jay-Z on Everything Is Love–shouldn’t the work speak for itself?) further modernizes the mid-00s Lil’ Wayne sound while combining the use of, again, financial references paired with hyper-recent pop culture allusions (e.g. “Make you dance like Shiggy“). Using the same scoot scoot scoot noise as Jay and Bey on “APESHIT” once more (thanks to Pharrell/it’s also lightly present on “BIGGEST ALLEY OOP”), the repetitiveness is quick to grate.
“HUNCHO DREAMS” shades or pays homage to Nicki Minaj, depending on how you look at it. Though it is rather insulting for him to tell her, “Shake it like Iggy.” Not Pop, Azalea. ‘Cause no Australian’s backside could possibly compare. Yet another play on the Biggie original, Quavo specifically reworks it to his own advantage as a result of Minaj’s lyric on “Barbie Dreams,” “Somebody go and make sure Karrueche okay though/I heard she think I’m tryna give the coochie to Quavo.” But according to Quavo, this is precisely what she did with the latter rehashing–after sampling dialogue from ATL–“Call up Queen (Nicki)/The queen can’t flex on a young bull (flex)/Made her scream (scream).” Yes, I’m sure she screamed in shock over how much larger she thought the panisse she was going to get would be. Then Quavo has the audacity to directly pull from the vocal rhythm of Drake’s “In My Feelings” (proving once more that rap samples are so incestuous and endless that one must be a true music expert to decipher who was responsible for the original beat or lyrics). But then, what would a man trying to make an album as lengthy as Scorpion be without a collaboration with Drake himself in the form of “FLIP THE SWITCH,” mostly one of the more listenable songs on the album precisely because of Drake.
Another collaboration that found one initially hopeful at the sight of the Oakland chaunteuse’s name is “GIVE IT TO EM” featuring Saweetie. Alas, Saweetie isn’t one for pushing back on misogyny as the lyrics offer the requisite number of “bitches” thrown around (in addition to more “APESHIT” “skrrt skrrts”) amid Quavo making sports analogies and again talking about money (“I’m up fifteen mill.” Big dill, you still can’t rap on your own).
After what has been mostly riffraff, Quavo seems to hit his stride on “SHINE,” produced by Tay Keith. Perhaps doing his best to make Rihanna proud, he “sings,” “We can make diamonds shine (ice) on the darkest nights/She can make diamonds shine on the darkest nights.” Again, Quavo clearly has some issues with materialism as a way to mask inadequacy.
The dramatic opening to “HOW BOUT THAT?” (is Danielle Bregoli going to sue?) lightly infers, as “SHINE” did, that Quavo once more feels vaguely confident enough to rap alone, save for the part where fellow Migos member/Quavo’s nephew Takeoff also chimes in with, “How ’bout we run the whole scene?” Hmm, maybe the dating app How About We can somehow use this in a commercial.
Next is the only worthwhile thing to come out of this entire record, if we’re being completely honest, which is the sound of Madonna and Cardi B jumping in to help Quavo out with his phobia of rapping alone. Surprisingly, however, Madonna does not try to recreate her much maligned rap stylings on 2003’s “American Life” on which she famously rhymed latte with shoté. Even so, there will be no shortage of naysayers of the track upon realizing it’s her (taking a page from Lil’ Wayne’s–who she’s also collaborated with on “Revolver”–vocoder playbook).
Again reteaming with Takeoff for “KEEP THAT SHIT,” Quavo once more poverty shames with, “You broke as a bitch” and then decides to loosely admit that women probably only “love” him for his money as he “brags,” “She hopped on the dick (keep it), guap, fuck this shit/Pop for this shit, don’t stop for this shit.” I don’t know, you probably should’ve stopped for this shit about ten tracks ago.
Not one to leave out the other key player in Migos (and occasionally in Cardi B’s vag when he’s not cheating with strip club “bartenders“), Quavo features Offset on quite arguably the worst song on the album, “FUCK 12,” (code for the polis, and which sounds like “Fuck Twitter” when chanted ad nauseum, as one apparently does). Some of the more horrendous lyrics include, “Put that bitch in the kitchen”–but perhaps most horrendous of all is the sampling of Malcolm X’s “Who taught you to hate yourself?” speech.
Showing further reverence for the Atlanta rap scene, Quavo features Lil’ Baby (though it feels like he dominates most of the song) on “LOSE IT,” another one of the better offerings from Quavo Huncho because it manages to reign itself in on the overly played topics of bitches and money. That quickly changes on “RERUN” featuring Travis Scott, on which the worst possible pop culture allusion (that just won’t seem to die) with regard to simile is included in the form of, “Ike and Tina, way I beat the, beat the, beat the, beat the…” But hey, at least the song allows for a brief interlude dialogue between Kylie Jenner and Scott, for added “cachet” in between the urging, “Come link up, we can bring your bitches.” Yes, sounds real tantalizing.
One of the more memorable beats follows on “GO ALL THE WAY,” but, of course, this is only because Pharrell Williams produced it, in addition to co-writing. Admittedly, it’s better than anything Pharrell tried to do with Lil’ Wayne on “Yes” or “Gettin’ Some Head.” Alas, the album jumps the shark again on “LAMB TALK,” on which Quavo’s redundancy (and presumable deal for product placement) gets the better of him as a result of his lust for the trappings of wealth.
Things take another turn for the worse on the somewhat condescending “BIG BRO,” during which Quavo gets all, um, big bro, with such counsel as, “You gonna fuck around, take your life/Instagram and guns just don’t go right (no, no, ayy).” All of this was thought to be some sort of dig at the now deceased Lil’ Peep, though Quavo has, naturally, denied any such assumptions.
The most Rihanna-sounding track, “SWING,” makes a return to “scoot scoots” as Quavo and his collaborators, Normani and Davido, display their affections for the 70s white people suburban trend of swinging. One wonders if this is somehow inspired by the dynamic between Quavo, Offset and Cardi B (though of course, that would be incest and “gay”).
One of the primary singles from Quavo Huncho, “BUBBLE GUM” saw Quavo give us his first “solo” video, give or take about thirty objectified women. Black Panther-esque in every way except the part where it’s even remotely feminist, we have to wonder what any of these women are getting out of the deal except Quavo’s promise, “Fuck with me and get rich (rich).”
The album, at long, overdue last, concludes with the Kid Cudi-featuring “LOST,” all awash with the ambient, inside-the-mind-of-a-stoner beats one has come to expect of Kid Cudi. What is unexpected, however is Quavo warning, “I hope the money don’t diminish y’all.” Considering his unbridled confessions of love for the false idol for the duration of the record, it’s somewhat astonishing to hear him say such a thing. And in truth, “LOST” is the closest to profundity that Quavo Huncho comes. Quavo, in point of fact, should extract a drop of this song and douse his next album in it for more accurate direction. So as not to get, you know, “LOST” in the shuffle of so many fucking features.
In the end, it must be said: you ain’t Drake, this album doesn’t need to be so long. What’s more, all Quavo Huncho has done is serve to further accent just how antiquated in its view of women and life aspirations rap is, which is why it’s somewhat unclear, once again, what year we’re in, and also why Madonna is on it. But, of course, Azealia will accuse one of being white feminist in her strange loopholes for what constitutes misogyny. Meanwhile, Lil’ Wayne just wants his act back.
