Megan Thee Stallion is giving away a million bucks — but there’s a catch. In her new #CashAppForHotties campaign, Megan has partnered with Cash App to give away $1 million worth of stock to increase investing awareness and encourage participation in the stock market.
In an accompanying video explaining the campaign, Megan says, “Me and my thriving empire, Hot Girl Enterprises, have teamed up with Cash App to teach you everything I learned on the way up about money and how you can build your own empire.” She breaks down such concepts as fractional shares and diversification, reassuring viewers that “buying stocks isn’t only for the big players.”
“Buying stocks seems complicated, but really it’s a pretty simple process,” she continues. “The more you educate yourself the more equipped you’ll be to navigate investing. With my knowledge and your hustle, you’ll have your own empire in no time.”
Ever since her arrival on the scene, one of Rico Nasty‘s greatest strengths has been her chameleon-like versatility as she shapeshifts to suit any number of different styles. While she’s primarily noted for the chaotic punk-rock energy of songs like “Smack A Bitch,” she’s consistently shown that she can’t be limited to just being a screamo rapper and with her latest single, “Magic,” she stretches those creative muscles once again to show the world that she’s just as capable of making a club banger.
Incorporating some vaguely Mediterranean wind instruments and a sparse beat with a whole lot of swing, Rico’s latest is a swaggering, flirtatious celebration of a solid romantic relationship with plenty of pop appeal. If it seems like a huge departure from her more aggressive material like “OHFR?” and “STFU” or more straightforward trap-rap fare like “Don’t Like Me” or “Own It,” it only shows that she can fit any formula and make it work for her — and fill in the gaps in her stylistic palette, adding in easygoing danceable pop hits to draw in more fans who might not have jibed with her more challenging stuff.
And that’s a good thing for Rico as she prepares to release a new mixtape and build on her already impressive buzz, raising her profile even further as she steps into the stardom she’s worked so hard to attain.
Listen to Rico Nasty’s new track “Magic” above.
Rico Nasty is a Warner Music artist. Uproxx is an independent subsidiary of Warner Music Group.
Upon getting bounced from the first round for the second season in a row, Blazers star Damian Lillard’s loyalty finally seemed to be put to the test. The name itself has practically held a force field around it when it comes to trade rumors: everybody knows this guy wants to stay in Portland.
After years of what seemed like a better chance of the guy becoming a commercial rapper before ever leaving Rip City, trade rumors began swirling around the internet following disagreements on their coaching search. With hopes of seeking Jason Kidd to lead their locker room, who was just recently introduced as the Mavericks’ new head coach, the Blazers’ front office ultimately decided to hire former Finals MVP Chauncey Billups.
Coming off his position as an ESPN analyst, the former Piston’s sexual assault allegations from 1997 began to resurface, oddly pitting Lillard against nothing but backlash. This did not do them any favors, as trade talk began swirling up even more.
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Although, to the delight of Oregonians, ESPN’s Brian Windhorst reported that his sources tell him the All-Star is not seriously demanding a trade, nor is he even passively seeking it. Following a Twitter interaction between Dame and a user who claimed he had a hand in Billups’s hiring, the former responded saying, “Really? I was asked what coaches I like of the names I “heard” and I named them. Sorry I wasn’t aware of their history I didn’t read the news when I was 7/8yrs old. I don’t support Those things … but if this the route y’all wana come at me… say less.” It’s heinous to accuse someone of adhering to something they were blind to, but what else is Twitter for?
As of right now, the Blazers’ future may not seem too bright; but, they should certainly avoid trading for Ben Simmons before making it any darker. Yes, those rumors are real.
After unsuccessfully attempting to block a lob dunk by Clint Capela, Giannis Antetokounmpo and Capela both hit the floor hard, but clearly, something bad had just transpired because Antetokounmpo remained on the floor for several minutes. Eventually, Giannis was able to hobble off the hardwood, but he did not return to the game, which ultimately swung Atlanta’s way and tied the series 2-2.
According to CBS Sports, Giannis Antetokounmpo suffered a left knee hyperextension, and the Milwaukee Bucks star forward is expected to undergo an MRI on Wednesday. No more details have been revealed so far, so Antetokounmpo’s status for the remainder of the series is extremely questionable.
Despite Giannis’ injury potentially giving the Hawks an opportunity to close out this series and advance to the NBA Finals, several players have offered their condolences for Antetokounmpo over social media, including Clint Capela and the also-injured Trae Young.
Moneybagg Yo intended to have the summer on smash with the release of A Gangsta’s Pain but there’s one song, in particular, that’s been getting hella spins. “Wockesha,” Moneybagg Yo’s ode to the cup, has been on steady rotation over the past few months with the Memphis rapper recently performing the self-proclaimed “song of the year” during the 2021 BET Awards.
This morning, Moneybagg Yo slid through with the official music video for “Wockesha.” The lean-induced visuals opens up with Lil Wayne putting ice into a double-stacked styrofoam cup, mouthing his infamous lean rant from his Tim Westwood interview. “Wockesha” is personified by a beautiful woman, decked out in purple from head to toe. Bagg’s hallucinating throughout the video as he continues seeing “Wockesha” in the form of a floating cup before he finally plunges into a pool of cough syrup.
The RX is Uproxx Music’s stamp of approval for the best albums, songs, and music stories throughout the year. Inclusion in this category is the highest distinction we can bestow and signals the most important music being released throughout the year. The RX is the music you need, right now.
Quiet as it’s kept, Tyler has been one of the best pure MCs across not just one, but two generations. Debuting as he did at the tail end of the late-2000s blog era (when those Gangsta Grillz tapes reigned supreme) but being about 10 years younger than its biggest stars, Ty can proudly claim to represent both that time and this modern, post-Soundcloud streaming boom, acting as the bridge between both that someone like J. Cole imagines himself to be.
But, it was easy enough to forget that Tyler’s pen game is worthy of placement among rap’s upper echelons amidst all the chaos of his early introduction alongside Odd Future or his creative invention in more recent years as the sensitive loner of Flower Boy or the artful eccentric that was Igor. It’s kind of hard to pay attention to a clever turn of phrase or an armor-piercing punchline when you’re too busy feeling revulsion from watching a kid apparently down a roach, or mystified from his and his cohort’s antisocial antics.
Fortunately, Tyler’s latest alter ego, Tyler Baudelaire, has put all that behind him. In fact, of all the alter egos he’s displayed over the past several projects, this one feels the least like a put-on; Tyler was much too far removed in life circumstances from the awkward teen that was Flower Boy by the time he made the album bearing that title, while Igor was inherently a mask, playing up the Warhol-esque arthouse proclivities that drove that album to its critical acclaim and ill-fitting Best Rap Album Grammy win. On Call Me If You Get Lost, Tyler is most like himself, free of the artifice that he no longer feels the need to hide behind — and free to finally let his nuts hang, so to speak.
Here, he raps like a rapper. Boasts of wealth and status abound; on the chest-thumping “Lumberjack,” he flaunts that aforementioned golden statue, bragging that he “bought another car ’cause I ain’t how to celebrate.” He tells just what kind of car with a subtle hint in the punchline: “That big boy, that big bitch for all-weather / It never rain in Cali’, came with an umbrella.” That would be just about any car made by Rolls Royce, which stashes high-end umbrellas in the driver’s side doors of its automobiles. Tyler just told us he has a Rolls in the slickest way possible. Again, thank you, Westside Gunn. Sometimes, amid all the high-concept stuff out there in the world, you just want to hear a rapper floss cool stuff at a high level.
Tyler does cool stuff like this all over the album. On “Corso,” he spits a brain-teasing reference to the 106 & Park classics of his youth: “Hurricane-proof all the views, shit like ‘A Bay Bay.’” He slickly calls back to another misunderstood genius of rap on the barn-burning “Manifesto,” snarling, “I might not have dreadlocks, I might have these gold teeth / But I’m a n**** like you, and you’s a n**** like me.” I am trusting you to catch these references because to understand Tyler is to understand that Tyler is a true student of hip-hop, as well you should be too because if you’re only catching half the bars, you’re missing out. Tyler gets that, which is why he’s employed the ultimate signifier of cultural cachet, DJ Drama, to yell all over his tracks.
And look, I know that a lot of Tyler’s newer, younger, more sophisticated, hip, tasteful fans fell in love with the melodic bent his music has taken on since 2015’s Cherry Bomb. But as a member of that blog generation, someone who counts names like Kendrick Lamar and Wale among my peers and contemporaries, someone who recognized that Tyler could rap his Black ass off but didn’t seem to have anything to rap about until recently, I can’t help but feel like this is his most complete work yet.
He addresses racism, and the backlash to his refusal to speak out on issues that should be self-evident, on “Manifesto.” And his boasts are now Jay-Z level, not just in construction, but in content, revealing an un-self-conscious swagger that doesn’t aim to shock in its bluntness anymore. He’s just getting these bars off, feeling himself, and dismissing — not reacting to, truly dismissing — the lame criticisms his detractors fling at him “from your lunch break,” as he says on the provocatively-titled “Massa.”
Don’t even get me started on the production, which has finally achieved the ideal balance between his cacophonous, Neptunes-inspired percussion parties and the soulful wit of Igor’s most groovy moments. If there’s anything to be disappointed by, it’s that he soils the smooth H-Town sample on “Wusyaname” with an irksome verse from Youngboy Never Broke Again, who does the track justice but brings his abusive baggage to what should be another triumphant, bridging-the-gaps moment of cross-generational synergy. Tyler’s now the wise vet, passing the torch to hungry young upstarts like 42 Dugg that he was once semi-denied.
And he’s hanging, lyrically, socially, and financially with influences like Pharrell and Lil Wayne, bringing out their best because they need to keep him up with him. He even offers an olive branch to fans of his melodic material with “I Thought You Wanted To Dance,” which should appease the flower children who might well be bewildered by all this gruff tough talk. But it’s only an intermission in the rhythmic proceedings, offering a glimpse at a more well-rounded artist and letting us know this is only one of the tricks from his bag. That said, as much as you have to appreciate just how roomy and densely-packed that bag is, Tyler’s still left plenty of room for some good, old-fashioned, rhythm-and-rhymes-first-foremost-and-forever, “I’m the shit and I know it, now let me explain why”-style rap. Thank you, Westside Gunn.
Call Me If You Get Lost is out now on Columbia. Get it here.
The RX is Uproxx Music’s stamp of approval for the best albums, songs, and music stories throughout the year. Inclusion in this category is the highest distinction we can bestow and signals the most important music being released throughout the year. The RX is the music you need, right now.
Quiet as it’s kept, Tyler has been one of the best pure MCs across not just one, but two generations. Debuting as he did at the tail end of the late-2000s blog era (when those Gangsta Grillz tapes reigned supreme) but being about 10 years younger than its biggest stars, Ty can proudly claim to represent both that time and this modern, post-Soundcloud streaming boom, acting as the bridge between both that someone like J. Cole imagines himself to be.
But, it was easy enough to forget that Tyler’s pen game is worthy of placement among rap’s upper echelons amidst all the chaos of his early introduction alongside Odd Future or his creative invention in more recent years as the sensitive loner of Flower Boy or the artful eccentric that was Igor. It’s kind of hard to pay attention to a clever turn of phrase or an armor-piercing punchline when you’re too busy feeling revulsion from watching a kid apparently down a roach, or mystified from his and his cohort’s antisocial antics.
Fortunately, Tyler’s latest alter ego, Tyler Baudelaire, has put all that behind him. In fact, of all the alter egos he’s displayed over the past several projects, this one feels the least like a put-on; Tyler was much too far removed in life circumstances from the awkward teen that was Flower Boy by the time he made the album bearing that title, while Igor was inherently a mask, playing up the Warhol-esque arthouse proclivities that drove that album to its critical acclaim and ill-fitting Best Rap Album Grammy win. On Call Me If You Get Lost, Tyler is most like himself, free of the artifice that he no longer feels the need to hide behind — and free to finally let his nuts hang, so to speak.
Here, he raps like a rapper. Boasts of wealth and status abound; on the chest-thumping “Lumberjack,” he flaunts that aforementioned golden statue, bragging that he “bought another car ’cause I ain’t how to celebrate.” He tells just what kind of car with a subtle hint in the punchline: “That big boy, that big bitch for all-weather / It never rain in Cali’, came with an umbrella.” That would be just about any car made by Rolls Royce, which stashes high-end umbrellas in the driver’s side doors of its automobiles. Tyler just told us he has a Rolls in the slickest way possible. Again, thank you, Westside Gunn. Sometimes, amid all the high-concept stuff out there in the world, you just want to hear a rapper floss cool stuff at a high level.
Tyler does cool stuff like this all over the album. On “Corso,” he spits a brain-teasing reference to the 106 & Park classics of his youth: “Hurricane-proof all the views, shit like ‘A Bay Bay.’” He slickly calls back to another misunderstood genius of rap on the barn-burning “Manifesto,” snarling, “I might not have dreadlocks, I might have these gold teeth / But I’m a n**** like you, and you’s a n**** like me.” I am trusting you to catch these references because to understand Tyler is to understand that Tyler is a true student of hip-hop, as well you should be too because if you’re only catching half the bars, you’re missing out. Tyler gets that, which is why he’s employed the ultimate signifier of cultural cachet, DJ Drama, to yell all over his tracks.
And look, I know that a lot of Tyler’s newer, younger, more sophisticated, hip, tasteful fans fell in love with the melodic bent his music has taken on since 2015’s Cherry Bomb. But as a member of that blog generation, someone who counts names like Kendrick Lamar and Wale among my peers and contemporaries, someone who recognized that Tyler could rap his Black ass off but didn’t seem to have anything to rap about until recently, I can’t help but feel like this is his most complete work yet.
He addresses racism, and the backlash to his refusal to speak out on issues that should be self-evident, on “Manifesto.” And his boasts are now Jay-Z level, not just in construction, but in content, revealing an un-self-conscious swagger that doesn’t aim to shock in its bluntness anymore. He’s just getting these bars off, feeling himself, and dismissing — not reacting to, truly dismissing — the lame criticisms his detractors fling at him “from your lunch break,” as he says on the provocatively-titled “Massa.”
Don’t even get me started on the production, which has finally achieved the ideal balance between his cacophonous, Neptunes-inspired percussion parties and the soulful wit of Igor’s most groovy moments. If there’s anything to be disappointed by, it’s that he soils the smooth H-Town sample on “Wusyaname” with an irksome verse from Youngboy Never Broke Again, who does the track justice but brings his abusive baggage to what should be another triumphant, bridging-the-gaps moment of cross-generational synergy. Tyler’s now the wise vet, passing the torch to hungry young upstarts like 42 Dugg that he was once semi-denied.
And he’s hanging, lyrically, socially, and financially with influences like Pharrell and Lil Wayne, bringing out their best because they need to keep him up with him. He even offers an olive branch to fans of his melodic material with “I Thought You Wanted To Dance,” which should appease the flower children who might well be bewildered by all this gruff tough talk. But it’s only an intermission in the rhythmic proceedings, offering a glimpse at a more well-rounded artist and letting us know this is only one of the tricks from his bag. That said, as much as you have to appreciate just how roomy and densely-packed that bag is, Tyler’s still left plenty of room for some good, old-fashioned, rhythm-and-rhymes-first-foremost-and-forever, “I’m the shit and I know it, now let me explain why”-style rap. Thank you, Westside Gunn.
Call Me If You Get Lost is out now on Columbia. Get it here.
#CashAppForHotties https://t.co/NuktKg7ZmD pic.twitter.com/kz5gmy6ySn
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