Hip hop artists have a long history of having a positive influence. They often hold a position of something like the keepers of culture, acting as voices for the greater community, and their politically correct actions influence many people. On a fundamental level, this is a good thing. Despite their intentions, however, sometimes people try to force a certain image on them or make them act a certain way. The pressure on artists increases, especially as public demand and demand from the system becomes excessive, and what the public wants can eventually lead to criticism of those artists. Superstars are particularly at risk of this kind of situation. Let’s look at Kendrick Lamar for example.

This somewhat ambiguous, difficult to grasp attitude and position persists through the album. And here is where the contentious debate arises. On some tracks, Kendrick’s intention comes across clearly, but on others, the sincerity and his intention naturally come into question. The lyrics remain confusing no matter how many times and no matter how closely you delve into them. Mr. Morale is certainly the most inspiring of Kendrick’s career in a way that’s difficult to put into words. Take “Auntie Diaries,” for example: a song where he reflects on a past version of himself, when he was ignorant of LGBT intolerance, through anecdotes about his uncle and cousin, and which ultimately takes a stand against such hatred. In some ways it recalls Jay-Z’s 2017 song “Smile” by telling the story of family members who long suffered under the weight of their hidden gender identities. In Kendrick’s case, however, he dedicates an entire song to examining a more detailed, direct experience. He doesn’t beat around the bush, either. He says “I think I’m old enough to understand now,” his uncle’s and cousin’s gender transitions. His lyrics at the start of each verse build with each repetition, culminating at last with biting criticism. He takes strong aim at two-faced or just plain ignorant people who don’t think twice about directing hateful remarks toward gender minorities, but he also rebukes inconsistent Christian views toward them. The song becomes particularly moving when he tells of one Easter at church when the “preacher man” directly accuses his cousin of living in sin, at which point Kendrick rises up against holes in the scripture and it becomes “the day I chose humanity over religion.”

Controversy arose out of the song despite its excellent use of storytelling. The problem stemmed from his use of a certain slanderous term for gay people. Kendrick drops the word several times throughout “Auntie Diaries” in an accurate reflection of a time when he failed to realize how wrong it is to use such hateful words. It’s clear from context that the term is not being used here in a hateful way, however. Some people nevertheless expressed a distaste for his excessive use of the word. It’s doubtful that anyone who listens to the song will be introduced to the word in question for the first time, but it’s impossible to ignore the ripple effect the very word itself can have, no matter the context in which it’s used.

In other words, when terms of hatred are thrown around so haphazardly, the intention behind and context surrounding their use may be blurred entirely by the innate sound and meaning of the words. And that’s a fair point. As music criticism outlet Pitchfork wrote, it’s worth asking whether he could have tackled the issue a different way—one that doesn’t repeatedly use such hateful language. The song “We Cry Together” raises another issue. Actor Taylour Paige, who put on a deeply moving performance in the movie Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (2020), lays down an unbelievably solid rap in the song—an absolute masterpiece that brings gender conflict and feminist issues to the surface in the form of an intense fight between a couple. It’s a vulgar song from the start, with the couple hurling endless swear words at each other, and sure to make the listener uncomfortable—but the true subject matter starts to take shape by the third verse.

Paige is critical of the man’s world, where powerful women are disregarded, making specific references to R. Kelly and Harvey Weinstein to call out sex crimes perpetrated by men in positions of power, while Kendrick criticizes women who play the victim and fake feminists as well. Many listeners personally and in the media responded to “We Cry Together,” saying that the song presents a balanced perspective on gender issues from the viewpoints of both women and men. But a look at the point in the lyrics where emotions between the two rappers run highest reveals the song appears to lean more heavily toward her side of the argument. This is because Paige’s parts raise real, concrete issues to take aim at, whereas the positions Kendrick takes and the justifications he uses are far less convincing, and that’s why the song is sometimes interpreted as a strong expression of solidarity with the #MeToo movement and feminism at large.

It’s impossible to say precisely what Kendrick meant to convey with the song, of course, and there are likewise several sticking points in the album where determining what exactly the artist intended proves difficult. That’s why there’s such a flurry of debate around everything to do with the songs, be it the themes, the expressions used, the intent and more. That includes an appearance by Kodak Black, the most problematic rap star out there. In a time when it’s become commonplace to associate the ethical problems of a particular artist with their art when analyzing it, his inclusion on the album was a source of disappointment for many critics and general listeners alike since he has committed serious crimes. Considering the theme and overall direction of the album, though, Black’s inclusion could also be interpreted as a part of the ideas of introspection and redemption. Of course, it’s fair to argue that his presence is a scar on an otherwise beautiful album, too.

Mr. Morale & the Big Steppers is not as awe-inspiring as its predecessors in production or in performance (please don’t misunderstand this point—it’s only a passing comparison). But the lyrics here are Kendrick’s most challenging yet and demand a greater level of analysis. His albums have never been easy for listeners to approach, but this time it feels like he’s built a particularly difficult wall to penetrate. It joins the ranks of his classics, like good kid, m.A.A.d City, To Pimp a Butterfly and DAMN., but follows a different train of thought. With yet another controversial masterpiece, Kendrick has dropped an album that once again pulls the listener in the directions of pain and delight at the same time.