Don’t save her, she don’t wanna be saved. 

That’s what rapper J. Cole said in his hit song “No Role Modelz”, in reference to the “L.A. hoes,” that can now be classified as “city girls.” What does that little lyric have to do with the conceptual rise in “city girls” and “hot girls” in the music industry? How might it be problematic?

First, let’s define what being a city girl means. Contemporarily, it refers to someone who lives in a major city and manipulates men into giving them money. You might often hear that these women are “for the streets” or fucking whoever to get what they ultimately want. Meggie Phan ‘25 associates city girls with a “‘baddie type of vibe: bodycon dresses and a ‘fuck you’ attitude where they do whatever they want whenever they want.” Similarly, a “hot girl” aims to spend a man’s money, even though she typically has her own bag. 

These terms revolve around finessing men out of their money by asserting their sexual assets and having their own fun. It does not involve an obsession with men, but a fixation on money and acquiring it by whatever means (usually sexual). Both ideas and their definitions blur together, and, in this piece, I’ll be using them interchangeably.

There are quite a few city girls in the music industry nowadays, notably Megan The Stallion, Saweetie and City Girls (a female rap duo). They’ve made names for themselves by capitalizing on their sexuality, with the vast majority of their hit songs being about sex, and their music videos accentuating the sexual aspects of their celebrity image. All of these artists categorized as city girls are revolutionary in their own right, supporting a specific feminism movement in which women are more publicly open with their sexuality. It’s important to note that Black female artists have been doing this for decades, but that now it is even more mainstream and widely accepted. Artists labeled as city girls aim to celebrate womanhood—and that’s a beautiful thing.

While not all Emerson students listen to city girl music, many have a positive perception about city girls. Nneamaka Odom '23 says, “I think we need more of them,” and that, “we can be city girls and successful together, with different sounds, different inputs and different creative outlets.” 

Jennie Greco ‘25, who enjoys all kinds of music, also “doesn’t have any negative connotations, but knows some people in the media have viewed [city girls] on the side of trashy and hood.” This is true; most people who dislike “hot girls” associate them with conventionally unfavorable stereotypes about Black women. This leads to the issue of Black women only being seen as sexual goddesses or accessible vixens in real life, but especially in the media. This is a damaging form of typecasting, and has been for decades. And yet, it is still widely prominent.

It did not surprise anyone that I interviewed that Black women are the face of the city girl movement, or that they’re carrying the female rap industry. Odom declares, “Rap is historically Black. We’ve been had the flow, we been had the rhythm, who’s going to do it if not we?”

So yes, it makes sense that Hollywood, and the record labels that run it, would pin Black women as the image they want to push of sexy city girls. And don’t get me wrong; we are sexy. But we’re so much more than that too! It’s frustrating that people think that Black women are finally getting their chance to show the world what they can do, but many of us are only getting that chance by showing our bodies off and being hypersexualized.

I find the industry especially vexing because for many darkskin Black women, hypersexuality is the only path to acquiring popularity and legitimacy as an artist in the music industry. The reason? Colorism is alive and well, but sex sells. 

Lighter-skinned artists like Jhené Aiko and Beyoncé can get by based on their merit alone, and though they often tap into sexier parts of themselves, it is never a requirement of them. They’re often praised for their voices, lyricism, and charisma; while Black women who are not afforded light-skin privilege are expected to uphold much more intense expectations such as knowing how to dance, always wearing a full-face of makeup, and being voluptuous and sexy–like Chloe Bailey and Normani. 

Mira Treish ‘25 asserts that this issue with city girls only arises when “people try to appeal to their own ideals and values that they were raised with… That’s when there tends to be a bad connotation with it.” The unfortunate fact is that, systemically, this type of damaging outlook will always be present. The industry is built to objectify us, not empower us. Despite all obstacles, Black women are doing everything to celebrate themselves. Himank Agarwal ‘25 adds that, “As an artist myself, I feel that self expression is really important. They’re doing what they like.” As artists, Black women are shoving past barriers and continuing to make their unique mark on music and popular culture.

We are Grammy-award winning and we are the blueprint.

Now, back to J. Cole. The entire song ``No Role Modelz” is a diss to all of the Black city girls of the modern era. And for what? As you’ve read, and as I’ve discovered, hot girls have positively influenced their audience in many different ways. They’re role models for all kinds of women growing into their own, defy the expectation that women should hide their sexiness and sexuality, and are harborers of creative expression. Personally, I think J. Cole is wrong. As Black women, as city girls from every diaspora, we don’t need saving, and we’re confident and sure in who we are. Hot girls are valuable, they’re important and they’re every bit as worthy as their counterparts and peers.

So go ahead ladies: act up!