Pusha T and the pushback against STAN culture
STAN /stan/ verb: to exhibit fandom to an extreme or excessive degree.
I can’t stop thinking about it. Just when I thought I couldn’t become a bigger fan of Terrence Thornton, AKA Pusha T, he’s done it again. The spring and summer of 2024 were dominated by possibly the greatest rap beef of all time between Kendrick Lamar and Drake; 2025 is on pace for another banner year for hip-hop.
A little under a month ago, Clipse, a rap duo consisting of blood brothers, Pusha T and No Malice, announced they were dropping a new album, Let God Sort Em Out. Due July 11, this will be their first full-length album since 2009’s Til the Casket Drops.
Clipse was discovered by fellow Virginian and childhood friend Pharrell Williams. Yes, the Pharrell. Along with Chad Hugo, Pharrell formed the production duo known as the Neptunes, who produced Clipse’s entire debut studio album, Lord Willin’.
From there, Pharrell would play an integral part in music production across Pusha T’s discography. Their deep and long-standing friendship supersedes the music industry. Push would rely on this relationship heavily as he embarked on his solo career.
In 2010, Clipse would begin a hiatus to pursue solo careers and different interests, respectively.
No Malice, FKA Malice, FKA Malicious, looked to shed his street persona established with the Clipse after finding Christianity. The duo was renowned for their songs about drug dealings, and countless bars recounting these activities. Their approach to music became counterproductive to No Malice’s burgeoning lifestyle.
While No Malice stepped away from the spotlight to strengthen his spirituality, Pusha T refined the coke rap subgenre that we know today. Push ascended to Coke Rap’s quintessential face of the league following Clipse’s hiatus. From Freddie Gibbs, Benny the Butcher, and Conway the Machine, 2010s coke rappers followed Push’s lead while adding their own flamboyant personas and perspectives to this offshoot of gangster rap.
With an acclaimed solo discography that includes Daytona and It’s Almost Dry, Push has solidified himself as the foremost authority on the topic of coke. Rappers of this ilk share a grizzled, bragdocious, and intense approach to their music, integral to the personas they portray.
Pusha T does not play
Coke rap features music production with an eerie tone, accompanied by brash yet clever lyricism surrounding drug dealing. The atmosphere created by these elements paints pictures akin to the frantic frames you would find in Scarface. This is the world that Pusha T occupies, reminiscent of the wild west— there are no rules.
I mention all of this to say, when dealing with someone cut from the cloth that Push comes from, playing industry games will not get you far in that battle. He does not care for validation through commercial success, endorsements, or marketability, for that matter. This is a man who deemed himself “Cocaine’s Dr. Seuss” as recently as his latest solo album in 2022.
That is where Travis Scott and his career come into play. It pains me to pen this as a fan of both artists’ work.
astroworld 2021
Scott is someone who transcends the rap genre, whether you like it or not. His fanbase is widespread and ever-expanding, granting him box office commercial performance and collaborations with the biggest conglomerates worldwide.
How did he get there? Through an eclectic production style and ominous aesthetic, he was promoted as rap’s next breakout superstar in the iconic year of 2016.
While Scott comes across as “cool” to his fanbase, he is not short of detractors. The biggest criticism of him is his lack of substance, both musically and personally. His music is devoid of personal experiences, let alone a double entendre, which does not appear to be a goal of his, regardless.
I should state that it’s not a requirement to be vulnerable in your music or to the public.
It’s not a bad thing necessarily, as some of the biggest artists in the world, alongside Scott, are uber protective of their privacy and images. This lack of a personal connection, however, comes back to bite Scott, who presents as apathetic to virtually everything. The morbidly disastrous Astroworld fiasco in 2021 and his controversial “apology” highlight this perfectly— Scott seems to care about little.
Ironically, the most emotion he has shown is expressing who influences him. The persona he’s created is an amalgamation of all of his influences rolled into one artist, Travis Scott. He has unashamedly taken inspiration from the likes of Kanye West, Kid Cudi, A$AP Rocky, and Pharrell. To further this, Scott’s stage name is partially taken from Cudi’s real name, Scott Mescudi.
One could assume that Travis Scott is a product of STAN culture himself.
Whether it be musical or aesthetic inspiration, Scott has made his influences known and apparent. He has consistently pursued high-profile industry relationships with the artists listed above, sans Rocky, which is a story for another time. This has become the crux of Pusha T’s issues with Travis Scott.
Kanye West signed Push to his GOOD Music label in late 2010, and Scott to the GOOD Beats division two years later. Through their affiliations with West at the time, both artists became made men under the GOOD Music umbrella. Push would rise to President of the label in 2015, while Scott would become West’s de facto protege.
strike 1: checks over stripes
Scott’s popularity would intensify with each project released, among them being the cult-classic mixtape Rodeo. In 2018, he would drop his highly anticipated album, Astroworld, rife with hidden features scattered throughout the tracklist. Among these hidden features was fellow transcendent superstar Drake. At this time, the rivalry between Drake and Kanye West had been well documented.
The two era-defining artists share an odd frenemy-type relationship, opined by many in the music industry, including Mr. Pusha T.
From collaborations to sneak disses, track references, joint concerts, scrapped collab albums, makeups, and breakups, Drake and Kanye West have had no shortage of drama between them. Knowing of this existing tension didn’t deter Scott from enlisting the help of Drake for “Sicko Mode,” which has been streamed over two billion-plus times on Spotify.
Drake starts the track with his signature melodies over blaring horns produced in part by Scott. The third verse is where the business picks up. Drake pops up again, narrating what would become one of the most anthemic hooks of all time after the second beat switch. Following the hook, he delivers a scathing verse littered with multiple shots directed at Scott’s mentor, Kanye West.
Needless to say, West did not take the barbs well. He would launch into one of his signature tirades across social media, including an infamous Instagram live under Chicago’s L train tracks.
His vitriol was not solely aimed at Drake, though, as he addressed multiple people through this rant, including his former protege, Travis Scott. Naturally, as any human with feelings would feel, West took umbrage with Scott allowing his top rival to needle him throughout the soon-to-be iconic verse.
a lesson in deceit
In 2018, after years of subliminal bars thrown at Kanye West by Drake, Pusha T would step up to the plate to defend his GOOD Music cohort. During this beef, Push would reveal that Drake was secretly fathering a child. This revelation would send Drake and his 2018 album promotion for Scorpion into a media tailspin.
Fast-forward to 2022, and Drake is involved in another feud, albeit this one inherited via his allegiance to Lil Wayne.
Over the years, the Young Money Cash Money label would trade subliminals with Push and Pharrell. This stemmed from label head Birdman, aka Baby, and his penchant for not paying artists. In 2002, Birdman would collaborate with Clipse and Pharrell on the song “What Happened To That Boy”. The Virginia natives would not receive payment for their contributions to the hit record, spawning a decades-long beef.
Naturally, Wayne and his eventual protege Drake would take up the fight for Birdman.
the collector
Known for their impact on both music and fashion, Wayne would attempt to negotiate with Pharrell. Wayne would ask Pharrell for BAPE clothing, given his connections to streetwear icon Nigo. Pharrell would refuse, leading to Wayne's inclusion in the beef. Clipse and Pharrell would mock Wayne’s request in the track “Mr. Me Too,” essentially deeming Wayne a follower.
20 years later, Pharrell would auction off the legendary chains he wore throughout his illustrious career for charity. Who bought these items for millions of dollars, you might ask? Drake, which was objectively counterintuitive if you think about it, but I digress.
Drake would then flaunt this jewelry in a music video for the song “Jumbotron Sh*t Poppin” in 2022. Following a five-year wait, Scott would drop his much-anticipated 2023 album, Utopia. Again, Drake would make a surprise cameo on a track titled “Meltdown,” taking more petty shots at Pharrell and Pusha T. Little did Drake know, this behavior would catch up to him in 2024.
strike 2: code switching
In March 2024, during Future and super-producer Metro Boomin’s headline performance at Rolling Loud, they would bring out everyone’s industry BFF, Travis Scott. Scott would be caught on video, literally begging the star duo to perform an unreleased track, to which Future relented. This song would become known as an all-time classic diss track, “Like That,” featuring a surprise verse from the low-key Kendrick Lamar.
“Like That” would kick off Lamar’s generational 2024 run, solidifying him as the undisputed king of rap. During the now legendary verse, he aims at Drake and his bullying tactics.
I could go on and on about their rivalry extensively, but this writing is already becoming longer than anticipated.
The track would be featured on Future and Metro’s collab album, We Don’t Trust You, an album chock-full of subliminal shots at Drake. In addition to the Rolling Loud video, Scott would be featured on two tracks on their diss-laden album. You would think Drake would be safe from Scott’s shady tendencies, considering his various teamups against rival artists on Scott’s albums.
strike 3: enough is enough
Witness to all of this, Push acknowledges in an interview with GQ his disdain for Scott and his antics. This interview came as the result of a leaked Clipse single titled “So Be It,” set to be included in their upcoming album, Let God Sort Em Out. Push goes at Scott on the last verse of the song, with his trademark scintillating flow and wordplay.
The verse was met with a polarizing response. This is where stan culture comes into play, and it’s a detriment to conversations surrounding hip-hop. A large portion of critics, composed mainly of Scott’s stans or disrespectful Gen Z’ers, have severe overlap.
Push’s lyrics were minimized to “hating” and or “clout-chasing”. While most of this rhetoric can be attributed to ageism and immaturity, I feel as though it is indicative of a bigger problem in music discussions. Stans, a slang term for fanatics of celebrities with severely biased opinions, are not interested in the discourse being presented by Push.
where things STAN’d
Similar to his spat with Drake in 2018, Pusha T’s lyrics are dismissed as a plea for attention by ignorant rap stan’s, of course. More focus is placed on who he is dissing, rather than the content of the bars. This bothers me, as a long-time fan of the genre and the discussions that follow it. The principles and morality of rap-centric conversations have devolved into a porous state of bitterness and dismissal.
Push and Lamar, known for their shared no-nonsense outlook on both life and the industry, respectively, took up for the peaceful Pharrell. Scott’s oblivious, groupie-like approach to the industry has been put on full display for his career. Let God Sort Em Out, executive produced by Pharrell, looks to be the most anticipated release of 2025.
Thank you to Clipse, and a salute to the legend that is Pusha T.


Absolutely. The industry’s obsession with visibility over values has warped the way we talk about real artistry. Pusha’s bars aren't about clout they’re coded, intentional, and rooted in legacy. But stan culture skips past the substance for spectacle. We’ve gotten so used to fast takes and loyalty to the loudest brand that we forget what sharp, principled penmanship sounds like.
Respect to Push for staying ten toes down in a game that keeps rewarding cosplay over craft.
I like this. Rap beefs have been fascinating to follow.