Detroit rapper and world-class shit-starter Sada Baby paints his hometown as a cutthroat circus on par with Gotham City—and himself as its reigning supervillain. He’s a performer and showman, taunting foes and innocent bystanders alike with the demented glee of a classic wrestling heel, and his new tape, Brolik, helps solidify him as the unlikely usurper of the throne in rap’s most competitive city.
Sada raps like someone who hands out tapes from his trunk around 7 Mile, and as if to underscore his local-(anti-)hero status, his releases are becoming less and less accessible online. Whoop Tape was uploaded only to his SoundCloud page, and Brolik can be listened to exclusively through the mixtape database DatPiff (and its corresponding YouTube channel). Fittingly, his projects have the raw, unbottled prowess of the Lil Wayne and Nicki Minaj mixtape runs, and on Brolik, Sada sounds like he could rap forever.
At his best, Sada straddles the line between hilarious and intimidating. Brolik finds the perfect balance between the two: It has the enthusiasm (and by association, the tomfoolery) of his more high-powered verses, yowled as if he were cutting a promo (“8 Legged Ape”), and the more sinister snarl of his grimmest provocations (“Bison Dele”). One moment, he’s a self-proclaimed Krampus terrorizing foes on Christmas, the next he’s pulling pistols out in public and giving out halos. Over the keyboard-powered bounce of frequent collaborators RJ Lamont and Helluva, his flow sounds spring-loaded.
His punchlines aren’t as remarkable as on Bartier Bounty, but the imagery is often just as absurd: he’s spoon-feeding hollow-tips like they’re baby food; his money looks like caesar chicken salad. “Never fuck with a mask ‘cause Jim Carrey ain’t no street nigga,” he barks on “WWF.” He compares himself to Mr. Fantastic and Spock in a three-bar span. There isn’t a single moment where he isn’t completely certain of himself or of your inferiority.
For all Sada Baby’s singular showmanship, his 2018 single with fellow Detroit street rapper Drego “Bloxk Party” was proof that he works just as well in collaboration. He is comfortable on Brolik no matter who the dance partner is, able to attune himself to their movements and match their energy. On songs like “The Big Red Whoop” and “Triple Threat Match,” he moves in lockstep with lesser rappers like FMB DZ and ShittyBoyz BabyTon, working with and not around them. On the exhilarating “Mood,” Sada rips through a devastating, hookless verse while his partner and hype man Skilla Baby just eggs him on.
Brolik is full of patented Sada puffery, but there are a few affecting moments hidden in the margins, hinting at a poignant origin story. “Anything a street nigga been through, I done went through it,” he raps on “Mood,” and there are plenty of indicators most of those experiences have been traumatic. He can be brutally honest about addiction (“I really live that pill life/I ain’t glorifying, it’s horrifying; it feels right”), and he presents rap as his salvation: “I remember I was broke as shit/I remember I ain’t have hope for shit/’Member couldn’t hit the road for shit/Now I can’t get home for shit,” he raps on “Kut N Kordial.” It’s these memories of hardship that seem to fuel his ferocity.
