Que ft. Sada Baby – 90’s Baby

I have to make a mea culpa that for whatever reason I’ve been sleeping on Que and have never really gotten into him/checked out much of his stuff. I guess I had heard OG Bobby Johnson back in the day and wasn’t super into it and then kind of forgot about him. But let me be the first to say, I’ll be DAMNED if his Class Clown EP isn’t a great short project with some nice slaps on it. Paramount among these was ’90s Baby’ which I’ve been playing over and over again all month after first hearing it on Mobsquad Nard’s takeover of the Dirty Glove Bastard Weekly playlist on Spotify.

“I’m a ’90s baby, I keep a little .380, it’s hard to tell it’s on me, that boy thought I was naked,’ Que warns potential foes who may be debating whether or not to run up on him.  Even when he’s by himself he’s never lonely because he has his little .380 with him, like a reliable old friend or a guardian angel who’s always there. Delving deeper I’m not sure what being born in the 90s has to do with staying strapped with a concealed .380 but either way I can’t lie I love this song. ‘He got beside himself, and got to talking reckless, he must not got the memo that me and my niggas PETTY!’ Que continues. As one of the pettiest people you’ll ever meet, I can definitely get behind this type of message.

‘He said he don’t fuck with me, well nigga vice versa… said when he see me… said he was gon do what, to who my nigga? How? You just a class clown.” I like the idea of just telling people that don’t like you ‘vice versa’ and I love how ultimately dismissive it is, ‘To who my nigga how? You just a class clown.” (Also note the dope creepy clown artwork, just in time for Halloween).

“Your big homie a rat, you a ninja turtle. I’m a big dog, you still on puppy chow. Gold rollie on me and that bitch buss down. He thought I was naked, he can’t tell it’s on me, even when I’m out here by myself I’m never dolie. Yellow gold rollie, cost a pretty token, gotta know I’m holding, so watch how you approach me.”

It would be too tall of an order to ask Sada Baby to live up to Que’s verse and chorus here on his own flagship song, but you know what, if nothing else he certainly deserves credit for backing up Que’s claim from a minute before about how petty his niggas are, with all his talk of showing up at his enemies’ funerals stunting in a white tuxedo and ‘acting bad’.

‘The Ramones’  from this project was another good one (“Back in this bitch like I’m off of parole, black leather jacket on like the Ramones”), while ‘Can’t Complain’ is basically an interesting trap version of one of those easy-listening country songs trying to appeal to as wide an audience as possible where the artist sits back, takes a deep breath and decides that he’s doing alright with what he has so life is pretty good (“crib stocked up full of food and cream soda”), a la Que’s fellow Georgian Travis Tritt on ‘Great Day to Be Alive’, if you can believe possibly the most ridiculous analogy I’ve ever come up with. I like this direction Que is heading in and much like Berner before him he’s transitioned from a rapper I largely just overlook to one who I’m keeping an eye out for more new releases from and for that Que, I salute you.