It is with trepidation that I tackle the song “Throw That Boy P*ssy,” which I’ve been sent 10 million times since last week because a) I’m a Black gay, b) I’m a Black gay from Houston, just like the artist behind the track, Fly Young Red c) because people like to send me things to get a reaction for their amusement. Well, here we are. You can’t see me, but I’m pausing every five minutes to reach out to God and Whitney Houston to be with me as I try to make sense of this.
First, let me start off with the positive.
“Throw That Boy P*ssy” has a very nice beat. It’s one of those basic, but catchy lil’ beats that’ll instantly have you bop before you realize this ditty is a mating call from an aggressive top who likes to play mix and match when it comes to naming holes.
Also, in its own weird way, it’s rather remarkable to hear a gay man – particularly a Black one – be so blunt about his sexuality. When asked for the inspiration behind this song, Fly Young Red said in response, “A few good ni**as...nah I saw a ni**a dancing in the club that I wanted to f*ck so I made a song about it..”
Who doesn’t love romance? Many of us can relate to that. And as one of my favorites, Rich Juzwiak, notes over at Gawker: “Many a rap song has been written about women using this kind of blunt, crass, anatomy-probing language. And now here's one a gay dude wrote about dudes. I don't know where we go from here, but I'm tickled that we got here.”
Agreed, though while I may be tickled a bit by this track, I’m mortified by some of the responses I’ve seen to the song and video.
@_LipstickJunkie A few good niggas...nah I saw a nigga dancing in the club that I wanted to fuck so I made a song about it..— Fly_Young_Red (@Red_hustla) March 19, 2014
Holy homosexual hyperbole, Batman.
Maybe I’m being saddity, but while I can salute the new hometown hero on his hustle (the video has already amassed more than a million views), it feels like a bit of a reach to pass Fly Young Red off as the Frederick Douglass of male on male fellatio. I’m not giddy about the fact straight women will continue to greet me with “What’s your real name and not your Jack’d name?” for anywhere between six weeks and forever.
The same can be said for how helpful lyrics like “Let me see you clap that ass like a b*tch” when at its core, that teases some of the very sort of patriarchy and misogyny that fuels anti-gay bias. I'm trying not to sound like the Spike Lee of the gays across the railroad tracks on the rainbow, but it’s mission impossible. Much of that has to do with people trying to make an ignorant albeit catchy ass song more than what it is.
Y’all, sometimes it’s okay to let an ignorant ass song you dance to at the club when the brown liquor has taken temporary custody of your intelligence be just that and nothing more. Damn.
This is not BEYONCÉ, this is Boy P*ssy.
That can have its place, but some people are mistaken when they go online and declare that Fly Young Red is “glorifying effeminate men and their curves.” It’s a gay man exploiting another man the way rappers exploit women – in other words, making him his de facto “bitch.” That’s not necessarily “empowering” unless you think a “masculine” gay dude acting exactly like his straight counterpart is motivating. If you do, well, bless your heart.
I actually saw “Throw That Boy P*ssy” be compared to “Partition.” No, no, no. A married woman singing about having sex with her husband isn’t really the same thing as saying you want to eat the butt of a boy you met in the club in the style of Pacman. That would be like saying 2 Live Crew uplifted women the same way Queen Latifah’s music did.
Fight the false equivalence; it does you no good.
Still, part of equality is being given the freedom and space to be just as awful and complicated as everyone else. With that in mind, despite the fact that I absolutely hate the term “boy pussy,” “bussy,” and the like, pop it by any name as you please.
@luckyFTW mixtape coming really soon.— Fly_Young_Red (@Red_hustla) March 25, 2014
And Fly Young Red, good luck and “H-Tine! H-Tine! H-Tine!” to you. Before we ever get a gay rap equivalent of “Doo Wop (That Thing),” I guess you’re the appetizer. “Pause.”