I like Sasha. She can rap and has a gift fot the truth. But while she admirably tries to shake the hardcore image of the Chiraq "drill" scene that she's typically associated with—sick to death of the killing in her native Chicago and mindful of her young fans—her musical ambitions seem to be growing more clumsily pop-minded. Color-flashing Ray-Bans and the sight of an intentionally awkward white guy dancing are a typically dependable visual shorthand for corny a'comin. One show at Santos Party House and she's starting to skew Mad Decent with cuts like this, and the last thing anybody wants to see for Sasha is for her to get Kid Sister'd. Or even worse, to flip her sound and energy completely in order to scrounge a few scraps from the mainstream's table. This is a particularly popular playbook these days, where so many promising rappers are only on the scene for the span of a year—or a couple critically-lauded mixtapes, whichever comes first—before they decide to go full fashion show. You better work, I guess.
But as I said before—Sasha can rap, and has a gift for the truth: "for the bread I'ma fight/and I bet I'ma fight for the rest of my life/tryna get right, tryna see what it's like/to live at the top without the fright." In the words of her Chi-Town bredren GLC: Chuch! Izm!