A relic of the Boom Bap era, a sentinel of “real rap,” a gatekeeper draped in nostalgia, they move through cyphers like a griot, lamenting the lost art of lyricism, scoffing at trap hi-hats, and preaching the gospel of Rakim, Nas, and the sacred ’90s. To the uninitiated, he’s wisdom; to the youngbloods, he’s just bitter. A scholar of the Golden Age, forever side-eyeing mumble rap, forever reminding you: “Back in my day…”