Lupe Fiasco

The expression of Lupe Fiasco’s view of the world is in a state of constant evolution. It cycles between pessimism, self-righteousness, intellectuallyastute class analysis, and unfettered honesty. At the same time, it is undergirded by unshakable principles and an ancient code. Fiasco explains on his song “American Terrorist” that “jihad is not a holy war.” He is more than likely referring to the greatest form of jihad, the personal struggle against worldly desires. He consistently critiques capitalism, but loves shoes and high fashion, and is close friends with the fashion world’s darling designer Virgil Abloh, who even appears on Lupe’s latest EP, House. Lupe’s music is a constant jihad of him trying to marry his core beliefs to his love of hip hop culture and the spoils of wealth and fame.

Lupe’s unique childhood is ingrained in him. He grew up doing martial arts with his father, who was an instructor and owner of dojos in the Chicago area. He frequently references martial arts in his music and named one of his fashion lines Righteous Kung Fu. Fiasco’s understanding of Eastern traditions go far beyond Japanese anime and self-defense. Specifically, Lupe has stated that “The way I was raised, the way of the things that my father instilled in us — specifically training through the martial arts and Bushido and samurai code.”

Lupe Fiasco’s approach to music is clearly adherent to the Samurai Code of the 15th through 19th century which is referred to as Edo Bushido and Meiji Bushido. Bushido is a Japanese word meaning “the way of the warrior.” Ancient samurai were mainly concerned with mastery in battle and overcoming opponents and enemies with force. This changed during the era of Edo Bushido. It was a moment of peace, so samurai were forced to find purpose and valor in other aspects of life, aside from war. Samurai began to value compassion and a sense of duty, heroic courage, righteousness, honesty and self-honor. 20th century author Nitobe Inazo introduced the world to Bushido virtues as a code of conduct that could enhance personal relationships and professional standing. Even President Theodore Roosevelt was enamored with Inazo’s presentation of Bushido code and is said to have purchased five dozen copies of the book. Lupe’s musical career is filled with Bushido principles.

But, much like his life experiences, Lupe prides himself on having varied subject matter and being an unpredictable matter. He said in a recent interview that “there’s so much to talk about if you allow yourself to not get caught up in the status quo.” He claims that he won’t rap to beats that inspire “basic words” and doesn’t work on deadlines, living by the mantra, “I’ll get it done when it’s done.” The music must challenge him to go deeper, which is made all the more impressive by the fact that he has been an incredibly productive rapper.

Lupe Fiasco’s depth is intriguing and endearing because his approach to music is complex in its simplicity. He doesn’t try to please reviewers or podcasters. Fiasco follows the samurai code and honors himself by making music that he wants to hear, regardless of what the press and tastemakers say. When Joe Budden and the cohosts of his podcast made fun of him for making the song “Dinosaurs”, where he discusses the prehistoric animals in a modern context, he responded with the following quote: “there’s so much to talk about if you allow yourself to not get caught up in the status quo or trying to appease fucking Mal and Rory (Budden’s cohosts), or rep the fucking Joe Budden Podcast, when you’re trying to really experience the fullness that the world has to give.”

In the Bushido samurai code, honor or “meiyo” can never be stripped from you by insult, rather you can take it from yourself in how you accept the insult as truth. Lupe understands he will be misunderstood. He partially credits himself for the invention of the website “Rap Genius”, which interprets lyrics. Fiasco asks the deeper questions and doesn’t fault the listener for not knowing the answer, or not even understanding the initial question. He states the following in an interview with Vulture:

“Life is very complicated, from my understanding. So I think, in certain capacities, when you listen to Lupe Fiasco music, you get a reflection of the complexity of the situations that we find ourselves in. I just don’t put “Fuck the police,” and that’s it. It’s like, “Why are we fucking the police? Is it even cool to say ‘Fuck the police’? What does that do with the police? What are we going to do if we don’t have police?” Let’s break it down and get into the nuts and bolts. I think that is where you find the solutions, if you’re willing to do the work.”

One certainly learns that Lupe is invested in his music and it is a brave undertaking. Heroic courage or “yu” in the samurai code calls for the kind of calculated bravery that Lupe displays in his music as opposed to recklessness. He doesn’t shy away from saying what he means - especially when it is related to the most important samurai virtue, justice or rectitude. According to Lupe, he does his best work when the “work requires a relationship to mortality and death and crisis and tragedy.”

Lupe’s courage is inextricably tied to his compassion. He speaks on issues that many of the artists he’s influenced do not. While many of his songs are aimed at African Americans in the United States, the Muslim-bred lyricist also speaks against war and unnecessary violence around the world. While most of the rap world has praised fellow Chicagoan President Barack Obama, Fiasco has been critical, referring to the nation’s first Black President as “the biggest terrorist.” His compassion is displayed in an interview with Vulture, in which he talks about making music for those who have died unjustly. He states:

“Unfortunately, you see there’s other Jonylahs: This little kid gets murdered in Chicago; a 1-year old gets murdered in Brooklyn. Right after Ahmaud Arbery, you get George Floyd. Alan is mirrored in kids in Syria and kids in Yemen, kids in war zones that are just kind of casualties of war, externalities. Stop this shit. Stop shooting at kids. Stop dropping bombs on apartment buildings and fucking hospitals. Stop trying to be vigilantes only for Black people. I’m at my best when I’m doing that work, but that work requires a relationship to mortality and death and crisis and tragedy, which I can stand. I can fight that fight, but I do cry every time I make these fucking songs.”

Music is very personal to Lupe Fiasco, as is the way of the Bushido Samurai. The Samurai code is filled with virtues that deal with personal responsibility and reflection and most importantly - justice. Alan refers to Alan Kurdi, a 3-year-old Syrian child who perished by drowning in the Mediterranean during an attempt to flee the war-torn country. Jonylah Watkins was a 6-month-old baby shot dead while she sat in a car with her father in the Woodlawn section of Lupe’s hometown of Chicago. The shooting was allegedly retaliation for her father stealing a gaming console. On his songs “Jonylah Forever” and “Alan Forever”, Fiasco paints a picture of their futures and shows the potential that was lost in their untimely demise. Rather than simply lament the costs of international wars and urban violence, he presents his audience with what was lost by embodying the victims and giving them a voice.

After receiving mountains of criticism for perceived antisemitism and political hyperbole, Lupe generally avoids the press. He prefers to use social media rather than have his words filter through a journalist. His recent EP “SHOES” is produced entirely by an up-andcoming producer named Kaelin Ellis. When asked why he was suddenly doing interviews for this latest work, he stated “because of Kaelin.” Fiasco felt responsible for Kaelin’s success as an artist. In doing press for Kaelin’s benefit, despite an aversion to press and interviews, Lupe is using the Bushido virtue of "chugi", or loyalty and duty. Having only met and shared music virtually, it certainly does not sound as though Fiasco and Ellis have a long standing relationship. But, part of chugi is faithful execution of commitments.

The son of a member of the Black Panther Party, Lupe has clearly been influenced by socialism. On “American Terrorist”, Fiasco is reminiscent of a Fred Hampton speech to the Rainbow Coalition. He discusses the economic degradation and exploitation of different races of poor people. He raps that even the Ku Klux Klansmen who were angry at people of color, are now starting to see a class-based kinship with their old adversaries because they can often barely afford the gasoline to light their crosses. Lupe’s relationship to wealth is complicated. In adherence to the samurai code and his father’s socialist teachings, he understands the trappings of wealth and money. Inazo Nitobe, author of Bushido: The Soul of Japan, stated that “riches hinder wisdom”. Bushido samurai believed that “luxury was the greatest menace to manhood.”

Lupe Fiasco is a fashion connoisseur, so luxury is part of the industry which he is a part of and passionate about. Still, Lupe’s music prioritizes justice, including economic justice.

On “Tranquillo”, Lupe again follows the Bushido samurai code to the letter as he begins his recitation with “no material possessions shall cloud my judgment.” He claims to instead follow “natural codes of conduct” that are “wholesome.” Fiasco desires to “find value in simplicity” and promises to give his enemies “altruism and empathy”. In doing so, he is reflecting another important virtue of the bushido Samurai code; benevolence and mercy. Sympathy, pity, affection, love and magnanimity are elements of the “highest trait of the human soul.” Rap is traditionally an art form based around competition and vanquishing rivals. Kool Moe Dee deposed Chief Rocker Busy Bee Starski, Roxanne Shante destroyed the Real Roxanne, LL Cool J knocked out Kool Moe Dee, KRS beat MC Shan, Common threw lyrical shots at Ice Cube and on and on. Even more contemporary rappers that probably fit in Lupe’s genre like Kenrick Lamar, tried to establish dominance in his “Control” freestyle. Lupe, however, pushes empathy and coexistence, instead choosing to criticize behavior and the powers that be, rather than fire off direct disses or subliminal shots at his colleagues.

In Blues People, Leroy Jones described the word “cool” to be a “specific reaction to the world, a specific relationship to one’s environment.” While Black men saw suffering and brutal oppression, they remained stoic, detached, and even “unimpressed” as a survival mechanism. On “The Coolest”, Lupe struggles with what the original meaning of cool is versus the seductive perversion of coolness created by our white supremacist culture industry. Jones stated that “in a world that is basically irrational, the most legitimate relationship to it is nonparticipation.” Part of Lupe’s coolness is not only in his avoidance of the music press and antagonistic relationship with the music industry, it has been the threat of retirement. Rappers including Jay Z and others have threatened retirement before, some have been sincere, others have been motivated by marketing. Lupe’s feels real, except for the fact that there is so much to talk about. It’s hard to predict that Lupe will ever be able to quiet himself when he is inspired by random beats tweeted to him and trips to the Natural History Museum.

There is something empowering about the ability to pass on participation in a repressive system, even when the threat of violence looms large. However, “The Coolest’ shows how enticing the capitalist perversion of the concept can be, in that a man like Lupe, raised by a socialist Black Panther, can still be seduced. Much like Jones, Lupe is speaking specifically to Black men, as he talks about the “the ones who had deadbeat daddies”, alluding to an old and recently disproven stereotype of Black familial structure. The theme of Black men not having sufficient involvement in their children’s lives has been a subject Lupe has visited since the early days of his career. “He Say She Say” on his inaugural album Food and Liquor spoke from the perspective of a child whose father didn’t bother to spend time with his son. One can surmise that Lupe is implicitly crediting the mentorship of his father, a former Black Panther, engineer, and karate instructor, for his success over his peers, who grew up in the rugged and unforgiving Chicagoland area. The culture industry has made coolness into wealth, widespread popularity, and fame, when in fact, as Jones states, “it was this America that one was supposed to ‘be cool’ in the face of.” Lupe lamented that he was being drawn in by the culture industry in the following stanza:

Lupe is open about his inner struggle with the culture industry and its products. On “Hurt Me Soul”, he talks about how he hated the degradation of women in hip hop, but was enticed by Too $hort’s humorous raps. In a compromise, he recited the raps, but omitted the words he found most offensive. Rap Music for Lupe is a mix of Food and Liquor, it both nourishes you and tears you apart, and it is habit forming and addictive. Lupe struggled with what some aging rappers deal with when they recognize that decades of lyrical gangsterism is difficult to reconcile with their identities as fathers and husbands. Lupe, however, was struggling with this issue on his very first studio album.

On Food & Liquor

“preachy.” Those people should also consider that at times Lupe is not rapping to or for an audience, but to himself. He is reminding himself of the pitfalls of capitalism on a macro-scale, such as government failures, historical holocausts, and oppression, to keep himself vigilant. The title also acknowledges the intentionality in Lupe Fiasco’s art. Each detail is thought through, as opposed to the improvisational style of other artists. Even if Lupe were to improvise, it would be because a particular song called for improvisation. It also follows a Zen martial arts principle of “process not product.” threat to its very existence” according to Cornel West in his seminal book, Race Matters.

“The Words I Never Said” are similar to the first essay in James Baldwin’s classic “The Fire Next Time.” Baldwin wrote the essay to his nephew whose name was also James Baldwin. It often feels as though Baldwin is writing to his younger self while simultaneously reaffirming and reassuring himself of his present day political beliefs. Fiasco blames society for the problems in urban Black communities, but also rhetorically asks why members of said community haven’t taken action. Fiasco states:”

Lupe recognizes that the allure of fame for someone talented and influential will have a domino effect. When he models the culture industry’s perversion of coolness, other young Black men and boys will inevitably follow suit and seek participation, sometimes through destructive means. Lupe states the following:

And seek unholy grails

And hang with the players of the pool

Fast talkin’ all the hustle.”

II: The Great American Rap Album, he continues to discuss his personal struggles while simultaneously criticizing the society that produces them. On “Form Follows Function”, a song titled after a late 19th and early 20th architectural principle that states that a building form should be suited for its function, Lupe begins by stating “shout outs to my inner demon that be creepin’ around my temple, ready to set me off like Vivica or make me cross like a crucifix.”

Fiasco acknowledges his own imperfection and inner struggles, an admission that is often ignored by music reviewers and tastemakers who accuse him of being

The admission of his own struggles to live and fulfill his principles are examples of another virtue of Bushido. Honesty and sincerity are paramount in the Bushido samurai tradition. While most rappers elevate every project they release to “classic” status, Lupe rated his Drogas Light album a “7/10”, admitting that it was a “curation of pre-existing material.” Honesty is not always paired with humility in the Bushido samurai code, which is why Lupe still refers to himself as a “brilliant rapper” in the same review.

On Lupe’s song NGL, Lupe recites a hodgepodge of realism and nihilism for the Black American proletariat. NGL stands for Niggas Gon’ Lose. Lupe is a product of the nihilistic Black generation, whose hopelessness was “a

“Complain about the liquor store but what you drinking liquor for?

Complain about the gloom but when’d you pick a broom up?

Just listening to Pac ain’t gone make it stop

A rebel in your thoughts, ain’t gon’ make it halt”

While he’s critical of President Obama in the very song for his foreign policy mishaps and failure to condemn acts of war, he sounds just like him on “the Words I Never Said” and other songs throughout his vast catalog. Obama gave speeches asking for accountability from Black men as fathers. The 2008 speech to the NAACP sounded eerily like Lupe’s “He Say She Say” and other tracks that call for personal responsibility.

Lupe Fiasco’s critiques of capitalism avoid hackneyed tropes of pseudoconscientiousness, but reflect a well-studied understanding of its history. The title of his song “Manilla” is taken from a popular currency used in the Atlantic Slave Trade. The Portuguese used copper or brass bracelets called manillas, which derived its name from the Portuguese word “manilha” meaning hand ring. Manillas had been used in Africa for generations and were adorned by women in an ostentatious presentation of their husband’s wealth. An enslaved person’s life was given the value of approximately 12 to 15 manillas. After reciting complicated lyrics, the voice of what sounds like a teenager giving a school report explains the significance of Manillas.

The album Drogas Wave is filled with material like Manillas. One can clearly see that Lupe is an avid reader, and like any good teacher, is excited to share knowledge. His understanding of the roots of capitalism in the Atlantic Slave Trade are flexed on the songs like WAV Files where he melodically recites the names of slave ships and on “Gold vs the Right Thing to Do”. The latter song is another reference to the Bushido samurai code that warns against excess and encourages thrift for warriors. Capitalism encouraged men to justify evil deeds, but in “Gold vs the Right Thing to Do” the ghosts of enslaved Africans bring down slave ships and drown their crews.

Dr.JasonNichols

In a genre that has many people who fashion themselves fighters, Lupe Fiasco is rap music’s lone samurai. His pen is as powerful as a katana, slicing through the excess and materialism of the culture industry. The code he follows predates the “street code” or more modern understanding of ethics. While his albums have had various textures and themes and a plethora of rhyme styles, the consistency lies in the ethical underpinning. This approach will continue until Lupe decides to truly bow out - like a true samurai warrior.