Although it’s been almost a full two years since Megan Thee Stallion released her debut album, Good News, she hasn’t, by any means, stayed out of the limelight. Whether she was offending Repubs with “Thot Shit,” doing a feature on Shenseea’s “Lick” or releasing a compilation like Something for Thee Hotties, Megan has remained prolific despite waiting a while (though not as long as Cardi) to put out a new album.
Time has been both protracted and accelerated in that two years, perhaps giving off the illusion that a lot has happened in such a short time. Except for Megan, that’s probably true. Between graduating from college, winning at the Grammys and becoming the second Black female rapper to perform at the Oscars (after Queen Latifah in 2009), Megan has had her hot (girl) hands full. Maybe that’s why a title like Traumazine sounds like a continuation of Good News, with both monikers essentially declaring, “Read all about it!” And it is on Traumazine that Megan herself reads everyone as usual, throwing shade left and right—addressing, among other antagonists, Tory Lanez, which she already did on Good News’ “Shots Fired.” But hey, a story like that isn’t something one is likely to get over in a single lifetime.
But before taking Lanez to task again, she instead takes the risk on calling a song “NDA” so soon after Billie Eilish came at us with that shit on Happier Than Ever. Megan’s angle with it, however, is not a gloomy lament about how one’s personal life is limited by fame (that will come later on “Flip Flop”), but rather, how easily Megan can get everyone to shut the fuck up with a verse (if getting the NDA signed doesn’t work). Often ones that reinforce how she’s the shit. At one point she notes, “Sick of bein’ humble”—as though that ever happened in any of her songs. And certainly not this one as she spits lines like, “How many more ways can I say that I’m the baddest bitch?/I walk in and bitches grab they nigga, that’s a compliment/‘Cause you know in his head he wanna spread me like a condiment.”
So it is that Traumazine establishes the usual themes (addressed by everyone from Beyoncé to Cardi B) of most “rap bitches” early on. These typically include repeated and repackaged sentiments to the effect of, “I’m hot you’re not,” “You’re broke I’m not” and “I twirl on my haters.” That much is also instantly apparent on “Ungrateful” featuring Key Glock, with a chorus that taunts, “Whole lot of fake-ass, snake-ass, backstabbin’, hatin’-ass, no money gettin’-ass bitches (no money-ass bitches).” Because, as usual, telling someone they’re broke in this society is meant to be the ultimate insult as opposed to, say, an unavoidable symptom of capitalism. But anyway, it’s all part of Megan’s usual “in good fun,” tongue-in-cheek persona.
Among the fan favorites is “Not Nice,” wherein Megan proves herself worthy of that description with more goading lines about socioeconomic circumstance as she reams, “You a broke bitch, your pockets been a joke, bitch/And you ain’t worth the crack your momma used to smoke, bitch.” Elsewhere, she once again makes the somewhat laughable declaration, “I’m done with bein’ humble ‘cause I know that I’m that bitch.”
With all this talk of Megan being superior by “virtue” of her bank account, this leads seamlessly into another favorite from the record, “Budget.” Collaborating with Latto, “Budget” feels set to become the type of “anthem” one could imagine being played on the regular at the strip club. Co-produced by OG Parker, Romano and Rvei, the visceral beat complements assertions from Megan that include, “This pussy bougie, this pussy choosy, pussy don’t do no favors.” Nicki, too, has stated, “This pussy pricey” and even “prim” Beyoncé has insisted she has the “most bomb pussy.” In short, bragging about your pussy is just as important as bragging about your wealth. Which is why she channels Linda Evangelista not getting up for less than ten thousand dollars a day when she raps, “What’s the price these bitches wanted?/Tell ’em, ‘Up it’/Without the money I don’t budge, what’s the budget?” Elsewhere, she treads on dangerous territory in terms of insulting certain “groups” with the lyrics, “You niggas gotta be on something, what’s the substance?/You hoes broke, get the cane, get the crutches.” So yeah, again with the “sick burn” about not having money, therefore not having power. A “cut them down to size” lashing most singers are guilty of perpetuating regardless of musical genre (see: Billie Eilish is a jobist).
Megan changes tack very minimally on the next song by taking a cue from a society that demands a clear delineation of one’s pronouns (this includes announcing them in an email signature as well). Megan is only too down to declare herself as, what else, “Her” (not to be confused with H.E.R.). More specifically, “I’m her, her, her, her, her, her, her, her/She, she, she, she, she, she, she.” The song, thus, seems tailor-made for someone to eventually do some gender-bending with it (and yes, it would make a great lip-sync for your life moment on RuPaul’s Drag Race).
But the track isn’t limited merely to the repetition of a pronoun. For, as usual, the mode of defense when someone feels overly criticized is to deliver lines like, “All this hate givin’ me a pretty face/I eat hate, that’s why I ain’t got a waist/The more hoes hatin’, more money I’ma make.” But what the rich would never tell you is that money won’t stop you from going mad from loneliness and pissing in jars that you end up stockpiling (yes, a Howard Hughes reference). Just another “Gift & A Curse” when it comes to being rich and famous. Megan’s “gift(s),” however, appear to be, once again, all she wants to talk about on this particular ditty, namely when she says, “Ayy, shout out to my pussy, this lil’ bitch the G.O.A.T./And a honorable mention to my throat/All dicks, please rise, let’s praise the ass.” And yet, Megan does choose to at least momentarily address something more profound when she hits back at the patriarchy at large via the lyrics, “My motherfuckin’ body, my choice/Ain’t no lil’ dick takin’ my voice.”
Unfortunately, this good will toward women is soon after negated thanks to proof that no one ever really learns their lesson about “spaz.” Which is why “Ms. Nasty” proceeds to set the clock on how long it will take for someone to call out Megan for rapping, “‘Cause my nigga gon’ be spazzin’” (said a total of three times). Oh dear. Nonetheless, it’s also one of Megan’s successful attempts on Traumazine to one-up the raunch of “WAP,” hence lyrics like, “Put me on the wall, spread it open, do a pat down/Panties to the side, don’t be shy, open wide.”
“Who Me” then touches on the subject of the Tory Lanez shooting, but not with the in-depthness that came with the incident’s still-freshness on the opening to Good News, “Shots Fired.” The latter being arguably the one track wherein Megan allows her veneer of arrogance to drop fully to address something truly serious that deeply affected her. Here, instead, Megan quickly dredges it up with, “Ayy, I feel like Biggie, who shot ya?/But everybody know who shot me, bitch/Now let’s stop speaking on that topic, look at this new shit on my wrist.” Not wanting to get “too serious,” Megan always shies away from fully “going there” with regard to her trauma (a subject she clearly wants to acknowledge with a title like Traumazine).
“Red Wine” puts Adele’s vanilla “I Drink Wine” to shame as Megan delivers the ultimate “romance”-cum-porno soundtrack with the demand, “I want the dick that make me act stupid/I want the dick that make me hate Cupid/I want the dick that make me walk bow-leg/Freaky, slap the dick on my forehead/I wanna gag or get the fuck out of here.” Or, as Cardi said, “I wanna gag/I wanna choke.” Apparently, it’s a real fetish for both women. And Megan speaks to that kind of masochism when she says, “Pissin’ these bitches off turnin’ me on/All of these shots turnin’ me to a masochist/Happiest when everybody attackin’ me.” Such can be said of all of humanity, more comfortable when they know misery always prevails. To that point, Megan also shrugs, “How could I lose a friend when I never had them?” Which makes it all the easier to transition into fame.
But there is liberation to being friendless, including the freedom to experiment with sound. As is the case with the most unique offering on Traumazine, “Scary” featuring Rico Nasty. The track that’s sure to offer plenty of Halloween cachet for all the hotties as they vibe on Megan’s spooky beat (produced by Avedon). One that still allows her room to wax on about her affluence as she, like Ari, says, “I want it then I got it.” We “got it” by now, too. That is to say, the message that if you’re not rich, you’re irrelevant.
Another standout of Traumazine is the thematically-tailored “Anxiety.” As the one song where she consistently talks about her insecurities, she also finds time to name-check other iconic women dealing with the pressures of a subjugating patriarchal society that fears women’s unbridled sexuality. So it is that she sings, “Marilyn Monroe, my favorite ho/My favorite bad bitch, I think she the G.O.A.T. [high praise, considering Megan feels the same way about her pussy]/Jammin’ to Britney, singin’ to Whitney.” Thee Stallion is also certain to remind listeners that even ostensible “bad bitches” can have moments of weakness and vulnerability beneath the strongly-crafted veneer of impenetrability (i.e., “Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday/Bad bitches have bad days too/Friday, Saturday, Sunday, bounce back/How a bad bitch always do/All I really wanna hear is ‘it’ll be okay’/Bounce back ’cause a bad bitch can have bad days”).
Accordingly, the ethereal-sounding (for Megan) “Flip Flop” is a rumination on the loneliness of fame and the inability of being able to trust the intentions of those even supposedly “closest” to you (something Britney knows all about). Reteaming with LilJuMadeDaBeat (who brought us “Thot Shit”), Megan gives us a rare sample of her mellifluous singing voice with a chorus that bemoans, “Tick-tock, but it don’t stop/Your people ain’t your people, they want what you got/Flip flop, lonely at the top/Everybody wasn’t meant to get off at your stop.” And that’s not always the worst thing, though it might take time to see it that way.
Because, in truth, it’s better to have people around you who embody “Consistency.” A song that happens to feature Jhené Aiko, therefore it’s only natural that it should be a slow jam. But, as usual, don’t be fooled by Aiko’s sweet-sounding tone indicating that she’s saying anything “sweet.” And when joining forces with Thee Stallion, the raunch quotient gets upped, with Megan describing, “He dickin’ me down so good, tryna reach my soul/Like you wanna get in touch with it” and then presaging her “Plan B” message with, “If you gotta child, don’t bring it over here/I don’t need a Plan B, swallow your kids.” Aiko joins in on the chorus to announce, “Dick and consistency/Boy, I know you feelin’ me/Fuck all them other hoes/Give me dick consistently.” It’s a simple request, especially if, as Megan frequently complains, the dick in question is broke. Because barring money, the least a man can do is be profligate with his dick.
Aiko seems to bring out the ultimate freak in Megan as she also raps, “Lickin’ my crack, gotta call that boy a crackhead/I know it ain’t close to Thanksgiving/But on the table where I wanna get stuffed at.” The sexually-charged tone of “Consistency” gives way to the return of being bravado-laden on “Star” featuring Lucky Daye. The message here being that Megan is a “motherfuckin’ superstar” and should be treated as such by the man that’s with her. Ergo her loose threat, “Treat me like you wanna keep me and like you only see me/And any bitch after Megan prolly wanna be me.”
Like Joker meeting his match in Harley Quinn, “Pressurelicious” featuring Future sees both parties trying to one-up each other in terms of bragging about who’s the most unapologetically toxic (“He say he toxic, I said, ‘Okay, well, I’m poison’/Spit in my mouth, I enjoy it”). In addition to bragging about who has the most worthwhile genitalia and bank account—because, to reiterate, that is the crux of most rap albums, and Traumazine is no different. At least Lykke Li could distill the message down to one song (instead of making it into an entire album) in the form of “sex money feelings die.”
Regurgitating what “Queen” Bey already said on the Lemonade visual album, Megan also adds, “This pussy bomb, explosive/It’s soaking, osmosis.” For good measure, she vows, “Your bitch, she regular/I’m hot, be careful/She average, I’m pressure.” Ironically, Megan herself ultimately comes across as “average” by recycling the same tropes espoused by every female rapper before her.
Placement-wise, “Plan B” is something of a non sequitur in relation to the tracks that it’s sandwiched between, but continues the general motif of Megan’s braggadocious nature. This includes, “I’m the only reason that your goofy ass got bitches/All them hoes wanna look like me.” Regardless, the timeliness of “Plan B” in the wake of Roe v. Wade’s overturning shouldn’t be overlooked, complete with Megan exuding a sense of empowerment over knowing she can’t get stuck with a guy just because she might be pregnant with his spawn. Thanks to trusty Plan B, that doesn’t have to be a fear. What’s more, as Megan puts it, “Dick don’t run me, I run dick.” Would that more women could feel that as a reality instead of the one in which their government treats them like birth mills.
What follows is something one might expect to find on a mixtape, “Southside Royalty Freestyle” featuring Sauce Walka, Lil’ Keke and Big Pokey. In spite of the many verses distributed to others on the track, there’s still plenty of time to allow Megan yet another chance to pander to capitalism and serve as its greatest champion when she derides, “Ayy, a lot of bitches hate me, and these niggas too/But when you gettin’ money, that’s what haters ‘posed to do.” In other words, if one speaks out against anyone with money, they are automatically a “hater,” as opposed to, say, someone hoping for a different and better system (no, this does not automatically mean “communism,” as many are so goddamned afraid that’s what is meant by an alternative to capitalism).
Returning to boasting about her pussy instead of her pocketbook, “Sweetest Pie” featuring Dua Lipa is a fun, frothy way to round out the album. And, once more, braggadocio is the word that can be used to best characterize the vibe. But it seems that descriptor is only really done right when it feels at least slightly self-mocking, somewhat ironic (e.g. Charli XCX’s “Hot In It”/the entire concept of a caricaturized pop star persona on Crash). But that’s simply not the case with Megan Thee Stallion’s cocksure energy… which she’s certain to use to make everyone else question whether or not they’re trash.
