Paper Chasing Haitian: Kodak Black Keeps Going

Listen To More Kodak Black.
By    September 15, 2015

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Kodak Black rhyming over the “Oh Boy” instrumental is one of those things you never knew how much you needed, like ramen burgers or an American flag durag. There’s probably a thinkpiece waiting to be written about Nef the Pharaoh and Kodak Black as 18-year old regional street rap phenomenons whose idea of the old school revolves around Trill, Dipset, and Cash Money.

They’re from Pompano Beach and Vallejo, often over-looked small cities in the shadows of larger ones, like Baton Rouge or Long Beach. And unlike most of their generation, whose Weezy influence stems from the “Prostitute Flange” era, they remind me of Wayne circa “Shine.” ┬áSomeone needs to get Birdman’s talons off of them before he re-unites Hot Boys with these two, Young Thug, and the holy spirit of Turk. Actually, I take that statement back. That would probably be the greatest thing to happen in this decade. Get London on tha Track on production and give me 1 percent royalties for the concept. I understand that I’ll have to sue to collect.

Over the last two weeks, Kodak has been steadily dropping loosies on his YouTube page. He doesn’t Tweet them or put them on Soundcloud, but they’re well on their way to racking up six figure stream counts. On “Oh Boy,” he rhymes over old Cam, shouting out Wayne and Baby, mink coats, Pompano Beach, molly, lobster, streak, and the necessity of buying a Spider because he’s too small for the CamLamborghini. That’s how you differentiate yourself from your heroes.

A few days ago, he dropped “Wet,” a down-tempo piano dirge that’s more mumbled and melodic, as though it’s Kodak’s attempt at a Chief Keef song. The best of the bunch is probably “Paper Chasing Haitian,” which sounds like the kind of music that you’d expect Boosie to be making if he first came out in 2015. The minor synth keys and bells come in and Kodak spits about going from being shackled at the waist to eating pancakes. He raps about getting money the way that Hemingway wrote about deep sea fishing. In a just world, we would all listen to this song while diving into our money bins, tossing up the gold coins and letting them hit us on the head.

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