Put a few people in a room and they will sure argue about what they think is the best - it's rare that folks agree on anything. The dudes at GQ took a break from looking at those gorgeous female models and decided to voice out who they think are the worst rappers of all time. Yeah folks, you would ask, what does a magazine that promotes the good life has to do with music...well, read for yourself.
After Nelly brought St. Louis lingo to the masses, Chingy appeared in 2003 with a debut that made his STL roots obvious: "He's Herre," "Right Thurr," and "Wurrs My Cash." His commercial pizazz faded as his good-time topics (sex, money, having sex with girls who like his money) stayed the same and he titled his fourth album Hate It or Love It, which turned out to be an easy choice. On the other hand, if you get a good laugh out of "That's me, Ching-a-ling, equipped with much ding-a-ling," you might object to his inclusion here.
Not even Too $hort will be surprised to see Too $hort's name on this list. "Serious hip-hop fans, they'll boldly say, 'Too $hort ain't the best, Too $hort ain't got the best lyrics,'" he admits. This pioneer of Bay Area hip-hop has had an unusually long career—even he's lost track of how many records he's done—most of it pedestrian. He has no interest in being "a rapper who rapped in metaphors, and said slick s***," he declares, which is kind of like a NASCAR driver saying he doesn't want to drive fast.
At this point, he'd duet with Frank the Pug if he thought it would sell a few extra movie tickets.
12.Pro athletes, post 1985
When the Chicago Bears made the (Grammy-nominated!) "Super Bowl Shuffle," it paved the way for other over-indulged jocks to rhyme at sub-amateur levels. Take the Lakers' Ron Artest, whose idea of gangsta was starting beef with silver-haired, bespectacled David Stern and Matt Lauer ("You look like a girl"). One jock we'll exempt: Shaq, for his "Kobe, tell me how my a** tastes" freestyle.
In "Pretty Boy Swag," Soulja Boy repeats the song title, with the same dead inflection, thirty-six times. By reducing hip-hop to chants, ringtone beats, and vapid boasting, he has inspired a notable generation gap: everyone over 25 seems to hate him, from LeBron James to Ice-T, who accused him of "single-handedly killing hip-hop." Because ganging up on somebody is always wrong, and because we're equally capable of killing hip-hop, we've written about half of a song for Soulja Boy: "Man I look pretty / Your mama's a** is s***** / Gonna buy a big watch and wear it 'round the city." The more times you say it, the better it sounds!
10.Weed carriers (St. Lunatics, Bravehearts, D-12)
Once rappers become stars, they have the leverage to drag friends along with them into prosperity. They also need someone to transport weed, a job that dates back at least to "Spanish Tony" Sanchez, who was Keith Richards' personal drug mule. "Weed carrier" (aka baggage handler, tree stasher, or weed wallet) is the unflattering term to describe rappers who perhaps might not have record deals if an influential friend hadn't demanded it: The Bravehearts, St. Lunatics, and D-12.
When people praise Master P, it's usually for his bootstrap entrepreneurship: he rose from one of New Orleans' most despairing housing projects into a self-described "ghetto Bill Gates," though unlike the man born Percy Miller, Gates never branched into sports management, films, clothes, or phone sex. Master P was notorious for ostentation, including 22-carat-gold panels on his bedroom ceiling. (His net worth was once estimated at $361 million; four years later, he filed for bankruptcy.). But songs are virtually interchangeable, he's often accused of j****** ideas from other rappers, his lyrical signature is a constipated grunt (Uhhhhhh!), and in a Fortune magazine profile, a competing rap executive described P's record label as the "McDonald's of hip-hop," though to be fair, he appeared to mean it as a compliment.
He had some malevolently funny lines (I'm Eazy E, and I got b****** galore / You might have a lot of b******, but I got much more), but they were usually written by Ice Cube, who said it took "days" for Eazy to clumsily record his snaps. ("I can't do this s***," Eazy complained when asked to rhyme.) A small man—Cube called him a half-pint b****, and Snoop referred to him as Tattoo—with a voice pitched midway between Geddy Lee and Fran Drescher, he was a one-dimensional gasbag with the rhythmic grace of a dot-matrix printer.
7.The two guys in the Black Eyed Peas who aren't will.i.am
Will produces the songs. Fergie sings the hooks. You do...what exactly?
A Cuban-American Vanilla Ice who flacks for Dr Pepper and Bud Light—try mixing those two for a fun speedball!—Pitbull specializes in mind-numbing Eurodisco about hot girls and nightlife, with witless, winking reminders of his heritage: My tongue is bilingual, ready to play with that spot where you tingle.
When people remember you more for your pants than your lyrics, it's a bad sign.
He's hit a trifecta: mocked on The Daily Show, on South Park, and in The Onion. Daddy/Diddy has a terrific ear for shameless hooks, and he knows the hustle, which is why he has money hangin' out the a***, to quote his most memorable lyric. But as a mumbly, indistinct rapper, he wouldn't be signed to any label he didn't own.
An ex–backup dancer for Michael Jackson and Justin Timberlake, Federline made the usual boasts about his tax bracket and expensive cars—but his ex-wife, Britney Spears, actually owned everything except the goatee. Real gangstas don't get $20,000 a month in child support.
History's first truly awful rapper—like Richard Nixon, he sullied an entire occupation with unprecedented terribleness. Unlike Nixon, he won't go away: He made a metal album, went on reality shows, and re-recorded "Ice Ice Baby" along with nine other "hip-hop classics." You should hear what he does to Public Enemy.
1.Insane Clown Posse
The KISS-style makeup these two self-anointed "wicked clowns" wear is a tip-off—they live to sell peripheral products, from DVDs to comic books to PPV wrestling cameos, to the tune of millions of dollars annually. Like most d-bags, they're predictable: Ample use of the words f***, psycho, and f*** attracts a devoted fan-clan, and their annual festival has also included, yep, Vanilla Ice.