No sport embodies hip-hop more than basketball. No music genre embodies basketball more than hip-hop.
In 1988, when journalist Greg Tate explored what the relatively new genre was and where it might go, he wrote hip-hop “is the most modern example, after capoeira and basketball, of African culture’s bent towards aesthetic combat — what the graffiti movement itself long ago defined as ‘style wars.’”
Tate, who went on to become one of hip-hop’s greatest cultural critics, recognized the importance of the music, with its four original key pillars (DJing, MCing, breaking and graffiti writing), as a cultural movement, a form of expression and a rhythmic complement to the game of basketball.
It’s timing. Rhythm. The anticipation of knowing where you’re supposed to be and where someone expects you to be is like a rapper riding the pocket.
The societal similarities between the sport and the art form gave athletes and rappers a natural connection. It was an intersection of similar circumstances and desires, particularly in Black communities. There’s something interesting in how America was embracing this urban culture — as some love to call it — with basketball and hip-hop right there with it.
This week, starting with this essay and featuring other pieces, including the best NBA name drops in hip-hop, The Athletic will explore how this sport and this music genre were made for each other.
Going back to rap’s early days, there have been mentions of basketball. When Big Bank Hank rapped, “So after school, I take a dip in the pool, which is really on the wall/I got a color TV so I can see the Knicks play basketball,” on Sugar Hill Gang’s “Rapper’s Delight” in 1979, the two became intertwined for the first time.
Then in 1984, Kurtis Blow employed a full-court press of NBA references with “Basketball,” his paean to the game. The hip-hop hit — with its famous and instantly recognizable chorus, “They’re playing basketball. We love that basketball.” — reached No. 71 on the Billboard Hot 100 in April 1985 and mentions 22 NBA players from Tiny Archibald to Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, with Magic Johnson, Larry Bird and Isiah Thomas in between. Even Rick Barry and Jerry West get shout-outs.
Legendary Public Enemy MC Chuck D, who was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2013, recalls DJs being an integral part of games at the parks in New York. Basketball greats and hip-hop excellence shared a similar foundation within the city.
“The music was always played,” Chuck said. “It seemed like the more that music was bumping by the DJ, that helped the fast breaks. It energizes the crowd.”
Now it’s impossible to attend an NBA game and not hear music. Having a DJ in the arena is common. Chuck, however, said the music in arenas can sometimes be too much and take away from the game.
“You try to watch the play-by-play, and then all of a sudden, they play a song,” he said. “I think it’s overemphasized. They don’t know how to do it right, in my opinion. But back then, you know, nothing was in the way, and it was all done for the great reasons that keep the crowd occupied and the ballplayers doing their thing.”
As the NBA grew in popularity in the ‘80s and ‘90s, so did hip-hop. Rap was the purveyor of cool, and ballplayers were its primary clientele. From baggy shorts to hoopers making their own “mixtapes,” a term borrowed from DJs, the two were at the forefront of pop culture.
“I’m two years away from being 50 years old. I’ve been into hip-hop from its inception all the way up until now. I still work as a DJ, you know what I’m saying?” said Wally Sparks, an Atlanta-based DJ with Chattanooga, Tenn., roots who has worked with Ludacris, Rick Ross, Big K.R.I.T. and others. “More than half of my life, I’ve been spinning, applying one of the elements of hip-hop as a career, and basketball has been right there with it.”
The connection between hip-hop in sports has bred mutual respect. It also brings out the fandom in athletes. Name drops in songs are a big deal, so when a player hears their name, it’s usually a memorable moment.
If the line was good, or just wasn’t a diss, they like to let rappers know they heard the shout-out. There are times when Chuck is reminded he said an athlete’s name. According to the website RapGenius.com, 218 hoopers have been name-dropped in a hip-hop song. Only the combination of fighters and wrestlers have more with 226.
“You damn near forget about it, and (the players) say they remember that it was special,” Chuck said. “They say, ‘I listen to the music and I like the culture and, and you name-dropped me.’ That’s important.
“I think it even permeates years later, because even with their kids — and not to say the kids are part of our audience, but the fact that it happens to be a bar and a bar happens to have another life to it — they’ll be like ‘Damn, Daddy, you were like that?’”
The ’90s weren’t just about fusing hip-hop culture with only sports. It became the basis for movie soundtracks. Chuck’s musical connection to basketball included being commissioned by film director and New York Knicks superfan Spike Lee for the “He Got Game” soundtrack, the basketball film that starred Denzel Washington and Ray Allen.
The “Above The Rim” soundtrack has been a part of basketball culture since its release on March 22, 1994. The soundtrack is the third album to be released by Death Row and it’s not really about the basketball played in the movie. Executive produced by Suge Knight, it sold more than 2 million copies and peaked at No. 2 on the Billboard 200 – a pop music chart – establishing Death Row as a serious player in the music industry. It also won Soundtrack of the Year at the 1995 Source Awards.
Along the way, there is plenty of blending within the two. Rappers such as Dave East (University of Richmond) and 2 Chainz (Alabama State) played college basketball. Cam’Ron and J. Cole each have basketball backgrounds, too. Cam was one of the best high school hoops stars in New York City and Cole played varsity for two years of his high school career and frequently shares how much he loves hoop. Master P saw time in the NBA with both the Charlotte Hornets and the Toronto Raptors on their training camp rosters.
Shaquille O’Neal, Damian Lillard, Iman Shumpert, Marvin Bagley III and other players have used rap as a respite from basketball. Chris Webber has two production credits for Nas — “Surviving the Times” and “Blunt Ashes.”
Additionally, so much of sneaker culture really is the public turning basketball shoes into fashion statements, something rappers have been doing for more than 50 years. Conversely, as rappers’ jewelry became gaudier, it’s no coincidence the same happened with the NBA.
“Rappers want to be athletes. Athletes want to be rappers. I think the crux of it is both positions (come with) a certain amount of neighborhood love as well as spotlight and shine,” said Dr. Antoine Hardy, assistant professor of communication and hip-hop studies at Seton Hall. “You have people coming from similar backgrounds and circumstances, not just neighborhood wise, but (in) having a gift that is nurtured by your community in some way.”
What separates basketball from other sports is how effectively a player can show off their skills as an individual. There can be that one-on-one competition within the game that’s similar to a rap battle. There’s a certain performance aspect of basketball that lends to the relationship with the musical genre in a different way than boxing or football or even baseball.
Basketball at its best can be like a great posse cut, too. When the Wu-Tang Clan is trading bars effortlessly like on “Triumph” – “Max mostly, undivided then slide in sickening/Guaranteed made ’em jump like Rod Strickland” – isn’t that a lot like great ball movement on offense?
But what ultimately makes basketball and hip-hop work are flow and rhythm. Both are needed in either field for success. Even one-on-one, a basketball player has to have a plan of attack, just like an MC breaking down how he wants to rhyme.
“Pure straight up rhyming, that’s shooting the ball,” DJ Wally Sparks said. “Eminem is the Ray Allen of hip-hop. Ray was probably one of the most pure shooters in the history of the NBA. Rapping is akin to shooting the ball.”
Truly, no sport embodies hip-hop quite like basketball.