If you were alive and tuned into New York radio in 1996, you heard it. There was no escaping that flute. It was everywhere. Akinyele, a rapper who had previously been known for his lyrical dexterity and association with Large Professor, suddenly became the face—or rather, the voice—of the most explicit radio hit in hip-hop history. Put It In Your Mouth didn't just push the envelope; it shredded it.
It’s a weird legacy.
On one hand, the song is a masterclass in catchy, ribald humor. On the other, it’s a track that effectively "boxed in" a talented lyricist, turning a serious rapper into a novelty act in the eyes of the industry. But man, that beat. Produced by Infa-Red, the instrumental is an absolute earworm. It’s built around a loop that feels almost innocent until the lyrics kick in. That contrast is exactly why the song worked. It was vulgar, sure. It was misogynistic by many standards, absolutely. Yet, it became a club staple that transcended the underground.
Why Put It In Your Mouth became a cultural phenomenon
Akinyele Adams wasn’t a newcomer when the song dropped. He’d already released Vagina Diner in 1993. Yes, that was the actual title. He clearly had a theme. But while his debut was a flop commercially, Put It In Your Mouth was a juggernaut.
The hook is the thing.
Kia Jeffries, the vocalist on the chorus, provides a soulful, almost nonchalant delivery of some of the most graphic requests ever put to a melody. It’s catchy. You find yourself humming it before you realize what you’re actually saying. That’s the "trap" of the song. It’s fundamentally a pop record dressed in the raunchiest clothes imaginable.
Radio stations had a nightmare trying to edit it.
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The "clean" version was basically a series of gaps and sound effects. You’d hear the flute, a drum hit, a muffled word, and then silence. But the beat was so strong that people didn't care. They knew the words anyway. In the mid-90s, hip-hop was transitioning. The gritty, boom-bap era of the early 90s was giving way to the "Shiny Suit" era of Bad Boy Records. Akinyele found a third path: the "X-rated" underground hit that was too big for the mainstream to ignore.
The Production: Infa-Red and the Flute
Let’s talk about that beat.
The flute sample is legendary. It’s actually a flip of "Humpty Dumpty" by Marc Moulin (Placebo). It’s light. It’s airy. It sounds like something you’d hear in a children’s cartoon or a lo-fi study beat today. When you layer Akinyele’s raspy, aggressive delivery over that, it creates a tension that shouldn't work. But it does.
Infa-Red didn't do much to the sample, and he didn't have to.
The drums are crisp. The bass is subtle. It leaves all the room in the world for the vocals. Honestly, if you gave this beat to a different rapper with different lyrics, it could have been a conscious rap classic. Instead, it became the anthem for 3:00 AM at the Tunnel or any other legendary NYC nightclub of that era.
The Downside of a "Gimmick" Hit
Akinyele was actually a great rapper. That’s the part people forget.
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If you listen to his guest verse on Main Source’s "Live at the Barbeque"—the same track that introduced the world to Nas—you see a guy who can hold his own with the best of them. He had metaphors. He had a unique flow. But Put It In Your Mouth was so successful it eclipsed everything else he ever did.
It’s the classic "one-hit wonder" curse, even though he had other minor hits.
The industry stopped seeing him as Akinyele the lyricist. He became Akinyele the "sex guy." It’s a pigeonhole that’s hard to climb out of. He leaned into it, though. He eventually opened a strip club in Las Vegas. He leaned into the persona because that’s where the money was. Can you blame him? In an era where rappers were struggling to sell 50,000 copies, he had a gold-selling single that stayed in rotation for years.
Criticism and the Gender Dynamic
You can't talk about this song without mentioning the backlash.
Even in 1996, a year not known for its political correctness, the song was polarizing. Female hip-hop fans were often divided. Some loved the boldness and the beat; others found it degrading. The song essentially demands a specific sexual act in a way that is blunt and transactional.
However, Akinyele always argued it was just humor.
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He saw himself as a Richard Pryor of rap. He wanted to shock. He wanted to make people laugh or gasp. In his view, he was just saying what people were thinking but were too afraid to put on a record. Whether that holds up in 2026 is a different story, but within the context of the 90s "freaknik" culture and the rise of Lil' Kim and Foxy Brown, it fit the zeitgeist of hyper-sexuality.
The Legacy of the 12-Inch Single
Back then, the 12-inch vinyl was king.
Put It In Your Mouth was released as an EP, not a full album initially. This was a strategic move by Zoo Entertainment. They knew they had a club hit, but they weren't sure if a full album of X-rated rhymes would sell. The EP format allowed the song to percolate in the underground. DJs bought multiple copies. They wore out the grooves.
It’s one of those songs that defines a specific New York summer.
It reminds people of a time when rap was still local enough to feel like a secret, even when it was playing on every street corner. It represents a bridge between the lyrical 90s and the commercial explosion of the 2000s.
Understanding the Context: How to Revisit the Track
If you're looking to understand why this song still gets played at throwback parties, you have to look past the lyrics. To truly appreciate it, follow these steps:
- Listen to the Instrumental First: Find the "Put It In Your Mouth" instrumental on YouTube or Spotify. Notice the Marc Moulin sample. It’s a masterpiece of simple, effective sampling.
- Check the Credits: Look at the guest features on Akinyele's earlier work. Seeing his name next to Large Professor and Nas provides the necessary context that he wasn't just a "joke" rapper.
- Compare to Modern Explicit Rap: Compare the lyrics to modern tracks by artists like CupcakKe or Cardi B. You’ll see that while Akinyele was a pioneer of this bluntness, the "shock factor" has shifted significantly over thirty years.
- Watch the Music Video: If you can find the edited version, it’s a time capsule of 1996 fashion—oversized jerseys, baggy jeans, and that specific grainy film stock that defined the era.
The song remains a staple because it’s undeniable. You can hate the lyrics, but you can’t ignore the groove. It’s a reminder that in hip-hop, sometimes a catchy hook and a daring premise are all you need to cement your place in history. Akinyele might not be in the "Greatest of All Time" lyrical conversations, but in the history of the "New York Sound," his most famous song is an inescapable landmark.
To dig deeper into this era, look for the Loud Records discography or the early work of Rawkus Records. You'll find a world where the line between the "underground" and "radio hits" was incredibly thin, and artists like Akinyele were right in the middle of the chaos.