Women rappers so rarely get their due. The barrier to entry has always been much higher, expectations have been unreasonably harsh, and even at the top level, there is intolerance: Rarely have two women have ever been able to dominate hip-hop culture at the same time. There can only be one, if any, and there’s even less room for queer and trans women. The last few years have shown promise, providing glimpses of what the future could hold: Cardi B topped the charts with her strutting single “Bodak Yellow,” becoming the first woman in rap to do so since Lauryn Hill in 1998, longtime indie rap workhorse Rapsody was nominated for Best Rap Album at the Grammys, and upstarts like Kamaiyah, Dreezy, and Kodie Shane continue to rise. The obvious goal is for women rappers not to be judged solely by their female peers but as rappers period. The obstacles to that are clear: patriarchy, resource imbalances, fewer signings, misconceptions about a talent gap between women rappers and their male counterparts, and constant suspicion from skeptics who believe even the best women MCs have their rap's written for them by men.
Prolific Atlanta pianist and beat guru Zaytoven is aware of these discrepancies, and in 2014 he released his Zaytown Sorority mixtape, which spotlit unheralded women in rap. The 17-track second installment focuses on his Class of 2017, returning some old guests, introducing a few new ones, and adding some more star power into the mix. Zaytown Sorority 2 features seasoned charmers of yesteryear Trina and Khia, buzzing would-be stars like Dej Loaf and Kash Doll, “Love & Hip-Hop: Atlanta” cast members Joseline Hernandez, Tiffany Foxx, PreMadonna, and Jessica Dime, and a cadre of lesser-known rappers like Ms. GoHam and Chella H. While the tape is well-intentioned and occasionally delightful, there aren’t enough highlights to sustain momentum.
Rapper showcases like this one rarely produce more than mixed results. Even the all-star lineups tend to suffer from a free-for-all aimlessness, as any DJ Khaled album proves. The primary objective is exposure, not curation. On Zaytown Sorority Vol. 2, these fluctuations in quality are compounded by the varying caliber of the MCs enlisted, who range from savvy veterans with commanding presences to amateurs just finding their bearings. Some rappers deliver one-off outtakes, others submit resumes. Accomplished artists clash with MCs in the developmental stages. There is a disparity between talented rappers who understand the lack of stakes and mail it in and enthusiastic underachievers. Form should follow function, particularly on a release like this that lays its intent out so plainly; yet, the product presented doesn’t honor the ambitions.
The mixtape opens with a bang, with its most charismatic personalities and most forceful rappers, before quickly tapering off in its middle section. Zay front loads the heavy hitters, with Trina and Khia doing decent impressions of their past work. Dej, who is among the most clever writers in rap today, shines brightest on “How It Feel,” her bubbly singsong raps carrying on their own buoyancy, each gummy pronunciation betraying her hard-nosed stunt raps. She can’t be bothered in her songs, which plays especially well under these circumstances. “I thank god, I’m in my right mind now/Money in the stash/Put them hundreds on timeout,” she raps casually, creating unusual imagery. On “Supersize,” Kash Doll doesn’t so much rap as swagger through, repeating lines until they fade before suddenly delivering a combo like, “Put a fuckboi on the bench if he got sidelines/Nigga tried to kill the cat but it got nine lives” with an unnerving sense of ease.
Outside of these highlights delivered by clearcut standouts, Zaytown Sorority Vol. 2 does feature some solid showings for a few of the lesser known artists showcased, like Ms. GoHam on “Never Have I Ever” and Tiffany Bleu on “Smile,” but many of these are followed or preceded by a clunker. The melodies on Shanell and Princess’ “Get It Up,” a song about erectile dysfunction, fall flat. Qu Da Queen and Robyn Fly’s “Automatic” is repetitive and grating. Jessica Dime is just one of a few guests who mimic Gucci Mane cadences, but the punches are less effective. When Gucci uses his drawl to lurch through schemes he builds up steam into a big, unforgettable one-liner, and there’s none of that impact on “Shrimp.” Though the mixtape’s quality shifts wildly from song to song, Zaytoven’s icy, keyboard-driven production holds the project together at the seams. He is consistently great, giving the ladies of his sorority class with some of his finest compositions. Zaytown Sorority Vol. 2 isn’t the superb, woman-focused compilation rap needs, but the tape continues the long, unavoidable conversation rap gatekeepers and fans must have about representation.
