Language evolves. Sometimes it happens because of a massive cultural shift, and other times it happens because one person decides they’ve had enough. In the world of hip-hop, the phrase dont call them bitches isn't just a suggestion; it’s become a focal point of a massive, decades-long debate about respect, commercial viability, and the soul of the genre.
Words carry weight.
For years, the use of gendered slurs in rap was treated as "just part of the aesthetic." It was the wallpaper of the industry. But look at the charts today. Look at the shift in how icons like Jay-Z, Kendrick Lamar, and even younger stars talk about the women in their lives and their industry. The needle has moved. It’s not just about being "politically correct," a term people love to throw around when they're annoyed by progress. It’s about power.
The Jay-Z Pivot and the Fatherhood Factor
The most famous instance of the dont call them bitches movement came from the top of the food chain. After the birth of his daughter, Blue Ivy Carter, in 2012, reports swirled that Jay-Z had authored a poem or a statement saying he would no longer use the "B-word" in his lyrics.
He didn't actually write that viral poem.
That’s a common misconception. The poem that circulated the internet was actually written by a fan, but the sentiment stuck because Jay-Z did change his tone. If you listen to 4:44, you aren't hearing the same vernacular he used on Reasonable Doubt. He traded the derogatory shorthand for a more nuanced look at ego, marriage, and legacy. This wasn't just a personal choice; it was a business signal. When the biggest rapper in the world stops using a specific type of language, the rest of the industry watches.
It makes sense. As rappers age into their 40s and 50s, the "angry youth" persona starts to feel a bit thin. You can't really preach about building generational wealth and being a mogul while using language that alienates half of your potential consumer base.
Toxic Masculinity vs. The Recording Booth
Why was it so prevalent to begin with? Honestly, it was a defense mechanism. Hip-hop was born out of environments where toughness was the only currency. Using derogatory terms for women was a way for male artists to assert dominance and distance themselves from any perception of "softness."
But let's be real. It was also lazy writing.
📖 Related: Howie Mandel Cupcake Picture: What Really Happened With That Viral Post
Using a slur as a placeholder for a rhyme is a shortcut. Experts like Dr. Tricia Rose, author of The Hip Hop Wars, have long argued that the hyper-commercialization of rap in the 90s rewarded this kind of language. Labels found that "edgy" content sold better to suburban audiences who wanted a glimpse into a world they didn't inhabit. The industry basically subsidized the use of the term.
Then came the pushback. It didn't come from outside critics, mostly. It came from the women inside the culture.
Women in Rap and the Reclaming of the Word
The argument for dont call them bitches gets complicated when you look at how female rappers use the word. From Lil' Kim to Trina to Megan Thee Stallion, the word has been "reclaimed." There’s a massive difference between a man using the term to devalue a woman and a woman using it to describe her own power or her circle of friends.
It’s about agency.
When Queen Latifah dropped "U.N.I.T.Y." in 1993, she famously asked, "Who you callin' a bitch?" That song wasn't just a hit; it was a manifesto. It won a Grammy. It proved that you could have a hard-hitting, commercially successful track that explicitly challenged the linguistic status quo of the genre. Latifah wasn't asking for permission. She was setting a boundary.
The Evolution of the "Bitch" Narrative
- The 80s/Early 90s: The term was often used in storytelling, sometimes descriptively, sometimes aggressively (think N.W.A or Too $hort).
- The Late 90s: Reclamation begins. Lil' Kim uses it to define a specific type of high-status, aggressive femininity.
- The 2010s: The "Fatherhood Pivot." Major male artists begin publicly distancing themselves from the term.
- The 2020s: Modern accountability. Social media ensures that if an artist uses the term in a derogatory way, they face immediate public discourse.
Does Language Actually Change Behavior?
Some critics argue that focusing on dont call them bitches is a surface-level distraction. They say that changing a word doesn't change the underlying systemic issues of misogyny or violence.
They’re partly right.
Swapping a slur for "queen" or "lady" doesn't automatically make someone a feminist. However, sociolinguists have pointed out for years that the words we use shape our reality. If you constantly categorize a group of people with a term designed to dehumanize them, it becomes much easier to justify mistreating them.
👉 See also: Austin & Ally Maddie Ziegler Episode: What Really Happened in Homework & Hidden Talents
Think about the work of Lupe Fiasco. His song "Bitch Bad" is a deep dive into how these words affect the psychology of children. He illustrates a scene where a young boy sees a music video and associates the word with "good," while a young girl sees it and associates it with "bad." The confusion creates a fractured understanding of respect and identity. It's one of the few songs that treats the linguistic debate as a psychological case study rather than a moral lecture.
The Commercial Reality of Clean Lyrics
Money talks.
In 2026, the most successful artists are the ones with the broadest reach. If you want a deal with a major tech brand or a luxury fashion house, your catalog needs to be somewhat "brand safe." Brands are terrified of being linked to derogatory language. An artist who avoids gendered slurs is much easier to sell to a global, diverse audience.
Kendrick Lamar’s Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers is a great example of this internal conflict. He spends the album deconstructing his own flaws, including the way he has viewed and spoken to women. It’s a messy, uncomfortable process. But it’s a far cry from the unthinking use of the word that dominated the 2000s.
Why the Argument Still Persists
You’ll still hear people say, "It’s just a word" or "Get over it."
But culture isn't static. What was acceptable in a 1995 basement freestyle doesn't necessarily fly on a 2026 streaming playlist. The push to dont call them bitches is really a push for creativity. It forces writers to find better metaphors. It forces them to describe women as individuals rather than tropes.
Even Kanye West, during his Yeezus era, notably tried to ban the word from his circle and his work for a period. While his consistency is always up for debate, the fact that even the most provocative artists feel the need to address the word shows how much power it still holds.
The Real-World Impact
Is the movement working?
✨ Don't miss: Kiss My Eyes and Lay Me to Sleep: The Dark Folklore of a Viral Lullaby
If you look at the Billboard Hot 100, you’ll notice that while the word hasn't vanished, its context has shifted. It’s used more frequently by women than by men. When men do use it, there’s often a specific reason—a narrative choice or a character beat—rather than it being a default setting.
We’ve moved into an era of "conscious consumption." Fans aren't just listening to the beat; they’re listening to the values. If an artist’s language feels stuck in the past, their career often follows suit.
How to Navigate Modern Language in Music
If you're an artist, a listener, or just someone trying to understand the current landscape, the dont call them bitches conversation offers some pretty clear takeaways. It’s not about censorship; it’s about evolution.
Stop using "intent" as an excuse.
Just because you didn't mean to be offensive doesn't mean the word doesn't have an impact. The history of the word is rooted in the literal comparison of a woman to a female dog—a creature meant to be bred and controlled. You can't just strip that history away because you think it sounds cool in a verse.
Listen to the women in the room.
If the women in hip-hop—from the executives to the engineers to the rappers—are telling the industry that this language is a barrier, it’s a barrier. Period. The rise of female-led rap labels and collectives has changed the power dynamic.
Embrace the complexity.
It’s okay to acknowledge that the word means different things to different people. Acknowledging that complexity is part of being an adult. You can enjoy a classic record from the 90s while still recognizing that the language used in it wouldn't, and shouldn't, work today.
Prioritize better writing.
Challenge yourself to describe a situation without relying on a slur. The best rappers are poets. Poets don't need crutches. If your entire rhyme scheme falls apart because you can't use a specific derogatory term, the problem isn't the "PC police"—the problem is your pen.
Look at the data.
Data from streaming platforms shows that "clean" versions of songs often perform incredibly well over the long term because they can be played in more environments (gyms, stores, radio). Reducing the reliance on gendered slurs is actually a savvy move for long-term royalties.
The move away from this language isn't a trend. It's a correction. As hip-hop continues to dominate the global cultural conversation, the responsibility of its leaders grows. Choosing to dont call them bitches is a small but significant part of making sure the genre remains a space where everyone, regardless of gender, can find power and respect.
If you want to stay ahead of the curve, start by looking at your own vocabulary. Whether you're writing lyrics or just talking with friends, the words you choose define the world you live in. Choosing respect isn't just "nice"—it's the only way to build something that actually lasts.