As a matter of fact, almost every male powerhouse in the genre has somehow developed the maternal instinct:
Dr. Dre gave birth to Eminem who gave birth to 50 Cent who eventually gave birth to a bouncing baby boy named the Game.
Jay-Z and Damon Dash, since their Rockafella days, have raised a whole slew of artists, from Beanie Sigel to Freeway, who were born with gold and platinum records in their mouths.
Even with the divorce of Jay-Z from his former record label, Rockafella, he has still ventured to make new proteges under the silky accounting sheets with Def Jam Records, where he serves as CEO.
It is the 21st century, and we see no "Rockamamas." The closest hip-hop has ever come to reproduction by a female is Queen Latifah's Flava Unit Entertainment, a respectable entrepreneurial effort by one of the industry's most celebrated women. Seeing as Queen was responsible for discovering (though not necessarily signing and developing) Naughty by Nature, she can certainly be issued some credit.
But even the Queen favors male birth. Her most promising protege under Flava Unit was Cornell University alum Quran Pender, a young male rapper known as Storm P. Rarely do female rappers and moguls, all countable on a four-fingered glove, seek to give birth to other female rappers and artists.
Some might argue that the small number of women in rap and hip-hop logically explains the low percentage of those who have cast their figurative nets over new and incoming talent, whether male or female. This argument would be a proportion theory: Small numbers of women in hip-hop yield an even smaller number of proteges birthed by such women - and an even smaller number of specifically female proteges, especially when compared to male enterprise overall.
I would argue the exact opposite. The whole point of reproduction is to multiply and nurture that which exists in small numbers into a viable blueprint (no pun intended on Jay-Z's classic album, The Blueprint) from which develops the flourishing of talent and the diversification of a world that many fear is becoming stagnant and uninventive.
Imagine some of hip-hop's most-loved female legends, Salt N' Pepa, Queen Latifah and Lauryn Hill - to name the entire few - multiplying their legacy as their male counterparts have done. It would be a joyous affair, and one that would spark enough talent and originality to perhaps mollify the hip-hop critics - at least for a while.
China Okasi is a graduate of the University of Pennsylvania.
