It’s no secret that hip-hop is one of the most cherished parts of Black culture. From being used to address cultural issues in the ‘90s (think Tupac Shakur’s “Keep Ya Head Up” or Queen Latifah’s “U.N.I.T.Y”), to becoming a prime source for masterful anthems like Kendrick Lamar’s “Not Like Us,” hip-hop has always been about more than just the music. Of course, the genre has also been a centerpiece for controversy, which has seemingly reached an all-time high as of late—namely, the ongoing feud between Young Thug and Gunna. In 2022, the two friends-turned-foes were indicted in a RICO (Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organization) case, and Gunna has since accepted an Alford plea deal to be released. Thug viewed this act as snitching, often sharing tweets (that have now been deleted) indirectly criticizing the “forever be mine” artist, stating that anyone who’s snitched and still raps needs to “go gospel.” This tumultuous feud emphasizes an age-old problem in hip-hop: snitch culture.
For those unaware, a “snitch” is someone who gives information to law enforcement or an opposing party to cover themselves, often at the expense of others. This longstanding practice raises important questions about accountability, street code, and morale.
“In hip-hop, it’s seen as the ultimate betrayal,” culture journalist and CEO of The Black Collective, JaJuan Morris-Guity, notes. And culturally, it’s never okay to be one, as this act shows one’s lack of loyalty, and most times, the person is never truly forgiven, with the “snitch” or “rat” label being attached to them for good. We’ve seen many examples of this throughout the years—from Cam’Ron, who publicly admitted to knowing who shot him and never telling authorities, to the murders of icons like Christopher “The Notorious B.I.G.” Wallace and Tupac Shakur, remaining unsolved almost thirty years later—all because no one wanted to be a snitch.
These examples raise various questions: is maintaining your street reputation more important than one’s life or gaining justice for someone else? Has snitching culture gone way too far? While some may argue no, its longevity in our community is exhausted.
Music and culture journalist, Kia Turner, adds to the conversation, “In this day and age, it’s clear that most rappers who proclaim to be thugs and ‘bout that life’ aren’t really like that—so I’m never against someone trying to get their life off the line.” This directly exposes a conflict of beliefs in our culture. “In hip-hop, if you’re dissing someone, there is no such thing as taking it too far; in the Black community, if you take it too far, you can either get jumped or shot,” she adds. “There’s a cultural moment where you have to ask: when does enough become enough?”
Given the complexities of Thug and Gunna’s case, it’s clear that the latter’s option to accept a plea deal is warranted. Being at the top of their careers during pre-indictment, neither would want to lose their life or delay their future, but this is hardly understood in street culture. “Survival may justify the choice personally, but in hip-hop, the label doesn’t go away,” Morris-Guity further says. “While we probably shouldn’t denounce artists for speaking their truth, many people do, and this does have real-world implications.”
Yet, with street culture and hip-hop being so convoluted, the purpose of protecting one’s name and staying away from the “snitch” label can be futile. There’s a slew of unwritten rules, and aspects like social media and fandom don’t help these issues or the overall advancement of our culture. Some fans often feel forced to choose sides, further engaging in internet drama, while others simply separate the art from the artist.
“Snitching culture in hip-hop is a double-edged sword, which creates authenticity and loyalty, and it builds trust and credibility in communities where systems failed us,” Morris-Guity explains. “But in 2025, prioritizing ‘street cred’ feels jaded and shouldn’t surpass the importance of someone’s livelihood and well-being.” Turner also emphasizes street culture as something our community should grow beyond, “Thug proclaiming Gunna’s betrayal and influencing others in the industry to push this narrative is alarming, and can turn into violence, which we’re not that far-removed from in hip-hop.”
Ultimately, the controversy of Gunna and Thug shows how much hip-hop surpasses the music, and maybe artists should get back to just that. Considering the bloodshed and incarceration that continuously plague the industry, infighting doesn’t solve anything. And if it’s more than about the music, artists could tailor their efforts to philanthropic avenues that ultimately push the culture forward and create a meaningful legacy. After all, the industry, our community, and our world are facing more dire issues than one’s street credibility. It’s ultimately up to the artist, but impact and purpose should be considered. As Jay-Z once said, “Legacy, Legacy, Legacy, Legacy. Black excellency, baby, let ‘em see.”