The story behind Kendrick Lamar’s ‘King Kunta’
Kendrick Lamar dropped ‘King Kunta’ in 2015 with the confidence of a man who knew he was rewriting the rules.
At a time when chart rap was bathed in the sparkling of synths and club beats, he turned left and reached for raw funk, the kind of groove that made the West Coast catch fire in the nineties. The track came as a jolt. Loud. Loose. Defiant. A reminder that rap could be dangerous and joyful at the same time.
The crown of the song is not just its title. Kendrick had grown up with the Roots TV series and the name Kunta had meant a lot to him, not as a gimmick but as a symbol of survival. The concept of having a figure who had been beaten down by history, and presenting him as a member of royalty, gave the record its zip. Kendrick channels spirit with a grin, tossing threats, jokes and warnings into verses that swag across the beat. It is a rebellion under the mask of a party.
Musically, the track drips with pedigree; Kendrick constructed it out of the bones of DJ Quik and Mausberg’s Get Nekkid, a Compton classic that developed his sense of rhythm. In early drafts, the beat was softer, full of flutes and smooth edges, until Kendrick ordered the producers to make it nasty. Thundercat came with a bassline that slithered, Sounwave was pounding the drums and Terrace Martin added the smoky touches that connected it to the tradition of James Brown and Parliament. By the time Kendrick yelled, “I got a bone to pick,” the whole thing felt bulletproof.
Beneath the bravado is the true engine of the song. Kendrick uses the story of Kunta Kinte as a metaphor for power, theft and survival, twisting the old threat of having your legs cut out from under you into a challenge. He pokes fun of ghostwriters, challenges the motives of the industry and warns anyone who tries to tear him down. The “yams”, borrowed from Ralph Ellison, become a symbol of power that attracts enemies as quickly as he rises. The track never loses its humour, but the commentary never loses its bite.
‘King Kunta’ became one of the defining records of To Pimp a Butterfly because it stood its ground between two worlds. It is chaotic and controlled, furious and fun, of the past and totally modern. Kendrick wanted something that felt like Compton on a hot afternoon, and he crafted something that still bubbles nearly a decade later. The groove hits first, the message hits second and together they make the sound of an artist sitting down on the throne with a smile that says he deserved it.