If there is no spoon in the Matrix, there is equally no belt in a rap beef. It is a blood sport where a fabrication is not a foul as long as it stings, just like they say in philosophy: “Got a dope theory? Then forget about reality.” Ultimately, rapper fitness is decided bar for bar and it looks good on hip hop that the trending feud eclipses the most recent dancehall disses for sophistication and savagery.
First, the scoreline at a glance. In the first round, GZE (Resilience Chakare) savaged Noble Stylz (Prince Butawo) from crown prince of culture to clown prince of clout. Whereas “Fatality” was 6 minutes of cold calculus, Noble Stylz’s “GZE Lecture” was more emotion than precision. In the second round, the former 3rinity rapper was still in form with “Dhaf” but Noble redeemed himself with “C10”.
On third take, GZE’s first-mover advantage had depleted and the Mas Vegas rapper had a shot in hand. Noble only had to burn few more candles for his homework and top his “C10” performance with his trademark intricacy but then he fired off-target with “Chivhitivhiti”, a weak-willed response to the cruel “Tsika Gas”. Overall, Noble carries the L but it’s a glorious moment for hip hop, continuing on T Gonzi’s mainstream traction and Stunner’s lockdown comeback.
“Chivhitivhiti”, Noble’s challenge to GZE for a televised rap battle, not only claimed one more life for him but potentially meant a bigger moment for the genre. R20 000 was on the table and R250 000 was the target for a winner-take-all showdown. GZE killed off the idea. To hear him tell it, his plan was not extra cash; he just had to G-check his fellow gladiator for belittling other rappers.
“This was never a battle for clout or money,” GZE said. “Not everyone suspends their principles and jump to impulsive decisions at the sight of a paycheck,” he continued, underlining “indie” as the word his principles, and challenging well-wishers to donate his appearance fee to culture or charity.
Many rap fans will dismiss anything Noblechadnezzer got say after the back-to-back fatality of GZE’s ambush as posthumous: dead men only pour libations at their own funerals in the paranormal fiction of James Joyce. GZE equally claims “ndakuponda chitunha munhu uyu anga afa kudhara” in his latest diss where the ferocity is in switching from industry politics to the personal.
In “Chivhitivhiti”, the lightest track of the pack, Noble repeated twice that he was not rap-dissing this time, which is surprising since his credibility was at stake. If he was holding back the fire for strategy, the plan is now in water following GZE’s rebuff. After haplessly playing into GZE’s turf, he has been refused the justice of marking a turf of his own terms. But then, “hapana kereke kuhondo” as his nemesis puts it.
Both rappers are in the form of their lives and all eyes are on them. They will either let the projects talk or continue milking the narrative. To determine what was at stake in the beef, both for the artists and for the genre, it’s only necessary rate the bars round by round.
First Round – Who Is Your Urban Groover?
The internet is awash with lockdown concerts and GZE had a rap battle in mind for Instagram. Apparently, Noble had his sights on bigger platforms – like his One House bromance with T Gonzi, perhaps – so he reportedly trifled the idea with his signature phrase: “Ndezvemangamanga.” He left GZE with no option but to “question his entire existence.” “Fatality” dropped, sungura length, savage claps, tabloid dishing and ideologically eclectic from Sun Tzu to Machiavelli.
The thesis was that Noble is not the G he puts himself out for: he has blogospheric credibility but no foot in the streets, no certified classic, no standing as a Masvingo boy to talk down at Harare Gs, and none of the success of the niggas he was running with.
Although GZE claims that it was all about respect, many disses are obviously careerist moves – from “Takeover” to “Infrared” – and “Fatality” isn’t entirely different. While the line “400 Barz (N Running, GZE’s 2020 mixtape) ngwanda ngaritendere; deleter chiBetter than Your Album (Noble’s award-winning 2017 album) tikusendere” is only one of the less subtle references to the mixtape, further self-promotion can be decrypted by inverting the attacks on Noble.
In that sense, the line, “Uri muurban groover; hautaure nemahustlers maGs epaguta” is not as misplaced as it sounds. Of course, it’s GZE not Noble who was in the Chamhembe trio, 3rinity, but the ironic line is central to the narrative he is developing. If 3rinity raps were almost interchangeable with Leonard Mapfumo, your typical That Squad guy, then solo GZE is, with Jnr Brown, the stripped-down MC.
In his last word on the beef on Facebook, GZE explains his motivation for savaging Noble Stylz, that is, regardless of how conscious you rate yourself, “you have no license to disrespect those that actively choose to channel their energy towards the mainstream and go commercial.”
If this is a big deal for GZE, it’s not because he has “commercial” intentions himself; after all, he goes on to call himself “indie” in the same statement. The image of the minimalist MC who is uncontaminated by pop hooks or radio compromises, the rapper for whom sheer lyricism is the selling point, is sacred to the culture. Hip hop heads are grumpy about a singing Drake or a rock Post Malone, for example, for not embodying the purity and rawness of rap.
By calling Noble an urban groover, GZE is declaring that he himself is that “ill MC” instead. Both rappers are lyrically insane and conscious to the kernel and but between the two of them, GZE’s non-commercial sound would be closer to the hearts of the heads. The track’s opening boast: “Hip hop has never been this raw and this pure,” with respect to 400 Barz N Running spotlights that GZE reinvention. Tying this back to his stated motivation for the attack, it’s as if GZE is saying to Noble: “If anyone should talk down at impure, lesser rappers, that would me, not you.”
Back to careerism, the combination of consciousness with sonic minimalism is one the mass market is known to sleep on. The Zimbabwean music industry, in particular, just loves singers. Even Zimdancehallers typically sing their way to the top. Ghetto “hipu hopu” for all of its how-did-he-do-that moments probably has probably stayed in the public ear more for its crossover features than its hardcore grind. And so GZE’s mixtape was probably fated to be a sleeper so that the line, further into “Fatality”, “Kwanga kune drought saka flow rangu iwater; chero mukaritsamhira inightmare ihorror,” could be as much of a boast as it is a self-affirming complaint.
For his part, Noble throws in ageism (“chembere idzi dziri kuita gatekeep culture isina fence”) to counter GZE’s regionalism. The ugly collateral attack on Carl Joshua Ncube and misdirected banter doesn’t quite maintain the music conversation initiated by GZE. However, the sexual innuendo and clever name-checking from Mai Titi to Kuda Musasiwa offer glimpses of wit.
Second Round – Harare, Whose Harare?
The dialectic continues. GZE’s second diss, “Dhaf”, dropped within hours of Noble’s poorly considered response, apparenhomicideludes the bloodbath. The hook continues the Masvingo motif and much of the track reduces Noble to a precarious out-of-town hanger-on in the bigger city. This time there is no big musical conversation but the sleek beat and GZE’s relaxed gloating suggest premeditated homicide.
Cut that: the second round belongs to Noble.
His “C10″ is such a ton of wordplay it takes few replays to wrap your head around it. Noble socially dissects GZE and his crew, Jnr Brown, Take Fizzo, Mariachi and, subliminally, Sunna, while reprising the attack on Carl. The Bulawayo duo, Asaph and Cal Vin, are weaponised the same way the city is by the political world: human shields for political correctness ratings in battles they are not parties to. GZE’s thesis was that Noble & co looked past Asaph for Zim Hip Hop Awards; Noble’s antithesis is that GZE et al looked past Cal Vin for the same.
The charge that GZE wants to divide people tribally speaks to the former 3rinity rapper’s sustained attack on out-of-town niggas who “get too comfortable” once they are shown love in Harare. Noble doe not wear Masvingo on his sleeve, throughout the beef. He probably should, coming from the city of great poets, Dr Mze, the original poet-laureate he namechecks on “Boys reMukute (Remix)” as well as Hamutyinei, Chirikure, Zvarevashe and other big homies (supposing he has already made good advice he received from Albert Nyathi to read books).
However, the point is that Noble’s method is not to defend ethnic pride but simply to trash GZE’s Harare credentials and – fact or fabrication – he does it well in “C10”. The spit game is toxic and eclectic right from the first verse: “Iyi imass murder/ Pfeka all-black saNeria/ GZE anenge Inter Cape/ Mabars ake haana career/ Bar for bar ndakamukwapaidza/ Varakashi akahire.” And this time, the collateral swipe on Carl is more remarkable for its cleverness than for insensitivity.
Third Round – What’s Next for Hip Hop?
Noble falls on his own blade with a frivolous hook and a hasty production over which he boasts over a victory which just isn’t there. Having switched his flow for the better part of the beef he convincingly parodies GZE in one of the few highlights of this track. “Chivhitivhiti” would have been, however, worth the studio time if GZE had consented to give hip hop a lockdown equivalent of Soul Jah Love and Seh Calaz’s 2014 Sting showdown. The art form not only needs such genre-defining moments for mainstream traction but also the conversations about money.
With or without the TV battle, former bystanders like me have no option but to dig the internet for the rappers’ discography, starting with the latest projects, GZE’s 400 Barz N Running and the Mas Vegas homie’s Chana Chidokosa.
Both rappers told you that the other guy is trash.
Don’t believe them.
They got a lot in common as the generation’s poets of conscience. Each rapper has his national meditation, Noble’s “Kanyika Kanaka” and “Chiedza”, GZE’s “Speech” and “Gaya Zimbabwe”; his own morally nuanced “Brenda’s Got a Baby”/ “Keisha’s Song” for the fallen sister, GZE’s “Tadiwa” and Noble’s “Nobody Can Stop Reggae”.
Although he will throw the urban groove tag on Noble, GZE set the stage for Zim hip hop as a member of that 2000s movement. Trinity’s Ini Iye Naye is still a streamworthy album for “Kuzova Newe”, “Nditore” and few other good memories, as are the Chamhembe compilations. Noble’s Better than Your Album is a good primer for getting a grip on the insane wordsmith that he is.
Zim hip hop needs moments. Negativity is as hip hop as negation is Hegelian (in two or three senses) so that the current Schelling (sic) is closer to classics than everyday bromance. It should be also counted to the genre’s credit that it has not starved fans during lockdown as more mainstream genres have. Its digital infrastructure works well for earth’s holiday from history and it’s an hour to be seized.
Can Noble Stylz redeem himself? Is there a time cap for a rap beef? Can a duppy hit ’em up after being already etherised? These questions sound less urgent at this point than how the genre will maximise on the attention. I am one of its sungura recruits already, with this first Zim hip hop article for Jikinya.
