5 times Phife Dawg showed the world hip-hop’s humanity

Image via Complex Original

In a 2011 interview with GQ about Michael Rapaport's documentary Beats, Rhymes, and Life: The Travels of A Tribe Called Quest, Phife Dawg was asked about his on-screen falling out with bandmate Q-Tip. In response, he said, “I’m a rapper but I’m a human being." 

While it’s easy to pigeonhole hip-hop as a world of eccentric characters, Phife reminded us that rappers are just like everyone else when it comes to feelings, friendship, and self-esteem. After all, hip-hop isn’t just about fame and the perks that come with it—it’s also about expressing yourself as a person.

“Straight from the heart, I represent hip-hop, I be three albums deep, but I don't wanna go pop. Too many candy rappers seem to be at the top. Too much candy is no good, so now I'm closin’ the shop,” he says in A Tribe Called Quest's 1993 song, "We Can Get Down."

While making light of his affinity for sugary foods, Phife positions pop music as the norm from which hip-hop deviates from. He believed that hip-hop is "straight from the heart," rather than about conventional success.

In these lyrics, "candy" refers to mainstream success: selling records, material rewards, etc. Phife Dawg says it's okay to include aspects of success in your art, but too much will make you part of the norm, which contradicts hip-hop's objective of genuinely expressing yourself. 

"I like them brown, yellow, Puerto Rican, or Haitian. Name is Phife Dawg from the Zulu nation​," he sinds in Tribe's 1993 song,  "Electric Relaxation."

Shout out to Phife Dawg for addressing colorism way back in 1993. While examples like this certainly don’t excuse sexism in hip-hop, they do remind us that hip-hop isn't about putting any groups down—it's about bringing people together.

The "Zulu nation" refers to a New York City-based movement in the ‘70s and ‘80s that inspired what eventually grew into the greater hip-hop movement. Led by legendary Bronx DJ Afrika Bambaataa, Zulu nation sought unite poor youth of color from all over the city through art. Phife Dawg, Q-Tip, and the rest of Tribe are products of that very movement, which is why Phife identifies as "from the Zulu nation" and frequently emphasized community.

“Yeah, me and Q-Tip is cool outside of the business, but you know, within the business sometimes it can get ugly,” he said in a 2011 interview with ComingSoon.net.

Here’s a lesson that can be applied to almost any aspect of life: Don’t mix friendship and business.



Q-Tip and Phife Dawg grew up together as very close friends—and remained friends throughout their lives—but when it came down to the nitty-gritty, Phife had to prioritize his business. Hip-hop (and the music industry in general) can get nasty, and it takes a particularly tough skin to not only survive, but thrive.

Phife attributed the tension between him and Q-Tip as strictly business, emphasizing that on a personal level, everything was still good between them. This is also one reason why Rapaport’s film was so captivating: It showed a side of Tribe that wasn’t all swag and bromance—it showed business-savvy smarts, too.

“Your whole appearance is a lie and it could never be true. And if you really loved yourself, then you would try and be you,” he says in Tribe's 1991 song, "Butter."

Above all, Phife valued staying true to himself. His message to fans was always to rock whatever makes you uniquely you, just as he did. For instance, Phife suffered from diabetes, a disease that disproportionately affects black Americans. Instead of worrying about how the public might perceive his illness within the context of a stereotype, he never hid it.

“Drink a lot of soda so they call me Dr. Pepper,” he says in the 1991 song, "Buggin’ Out."

Hip-hop is more than a genre of music—it’s a culture, community, and lifestyle. Phife Dawg often highlighted the humanity and soul sometimes hidden in the fog of material success. He was a talented emcee and a refreshingly lighthearted voice in hip-hop, but above all, he was a voice of reason in a space that valued fame and glamor over art and humanity.

Rest in power, Phife Dawg.