Oh, bae Trey. You remind me of that scene in America’s Next Top Model where Tyra yelled at Tiffany, “WE WERE ROOTING FOR YOU! WE WERE ALL ROOTING FOR YOU!” What is this Trigga album supposed to be? It’s like one long song best described as melodic misogyny. Wait, I’m being rude. You keep remaking the same three songs, and to your credit, it hasn’t exactly hurt you. Insert a body roll to “Na Na” here.
However, I feel as though you are capable of more than cornball songs about “b*tches” and vulgar sex romps – all set to the same trap beat on the new project. Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate vulgarity and the sex songs they inspire, but you do remember you’re the guy who used to release songs such as “I Gotta Go” and “Can’t Help But Wait,” no? Now you’re recording songs like “Smartphones?” Mr. Neverson, you have got to let “LOL :)” and “Say Aah” go. They were cute – for some people – but that’s done.
Also, we’re the same age, which means you’re entering your 30s this year so one would hope that your maturation level didn’t peak when you were in your early 20s rocking braids. You’re old enough to remember Jodeci, so you’ve got to recall that even their sex-fueled music encompassed variety. And despite my yearning to see him rot in jail and suffer a horrible depiction on Law & Order: SVU, even R. Kelly has managed to mix bumping and grinding subject matter with love songs, Sam Cooke impersonations, and fake inspirational songs that likely make Stevie Wonder go, “I mean…I guess it’s cool or whatever.”
Come on, Trigga, do better.
First off, Simon, let me be clear that as a Mariah Carey fan and someone who kept rewinding the opening scene of last week’s True Blood, I have no issue with miscegenation. I clocked the clap back you got on Instagram after posting a picture of your White girlfriend. Was it fair? No. People are petty, evil, and even if you personally have done nothing to them, select folks will project their issues onto you even if you’re not one of those Black men whose relationship girls are best described as “EWW, BLACK ICKY. WHITE YUMMY.”
And while you’re right about being human, which allows you to feel a ways when people come at you crazy, you are a human in 2014 i.e. do not upload anything on a public forum that is personal and may cause you to react. We all struggle with this, but as someone inching past celebrity-adjacent status, you have got to learn this lesson faster than others. Your fan base is primarily Black women, a group that very often sees the men they deem to be heartthrobs sharing their off-stage lives with women of other races—usually White ones. That is going to stir up some feelings and if you’re gonna do this fame thing, you have to handle that with grace.
Speaking of your fame, why isn’t there more of it? Forward this inquiry to your team and have them report back to me. I mean, you have a gorgeous voice and record R&B that actually sounds like R&B. And your music doesn’t scream “I hate women, especially my mommy.” You’re also not a bugawolf, so I do not understand the issue here. Is your Illuminati application on hold because you made Beyoncé mad on tour? If so, go bring her some vegan chocolate chip cookies and vegan macaroni and cheese (yes, it’s real, and it’s alright or whatever) and apologize. We gotta get you poppin’. We both know Trey Songz won’t be heeding my advice. Save us, my dude.
Breezy, unlike some folks, I have no issue with you growing your hair out and leaving the dye alone, gaining a lil’ weight and looking like the love child of Al B. Sure! and Walter Oats, but for the love of God, can you stay out of trouble?
Read the rest at EBONY.