I think it’s easy to tell why Bieber is drawn to “WTHelly.” Here’s a rapper just throwing shit at the wall, going viral by running with a half-assed joke he came up with on a whim in the studio. Bieber’s deep respect for “WTHelly” comes through in a leaked Instagram DM from about a month ago. “Bad hoes give me Becky,” he apparently messaged Rob; the lyric clearly had moved him. Naturally, Rob gave thanks by typing back, “Wthellyyyyy WtBieberrrrr.” I imagine that made Bieber’s day.
Unfortunately, Bieber’s remix is awful. He doesn’t even rap, and, instead, harmonizes as the fast-paced drums fade out to make space for a slow and cloudy piano outro. “What the helly I’ma do if I can’t get through to you?” sings Bieber repeatedly, like he thinks he’s on a Boyz II Men record. I just know he has a Notes app full of bars about smoking weed and getting head that he’s been jotting down for a decade, but he opts to keep those on ice. The only saving grace is that his vocals sound slightly pitched-up. What’s the point of Bieber being on the track if he’s not going to fully lean into the off-the-cuff spirit and format of the original?
How was the mark missed so badly? Did Bieber’s handlers give him guidelines that they will only allow him to fool around if he sang? Did he chicken out and retreat to his comfort zone? Do rappers just want Bieber to be Bieber they know? Who knows. Maybe Bieber just thinks these overproduced switch-ups are extremely cool. He is a Travis Scott guy, after all. I’m not sure what I expected. Bieber’s Stinc Team impression? His interpretation of the “Evil J0rdan” flow? That would have been a disaster, but the kind of disaster that a real regional rap star would drop on Track 17 of their third mixtape of the year without a second thought. Perhaps all my fantasies about who Bieber is or wants to be in 2025 are complete bullshit, and he is still, above all, just Justin Bieber the popstar, and he’s cool with that.
Throwback Rapper Movie Corner: Tone Loc in 1997’s Fakin’ da Funk
In 1997, Dante Basco, known to me as the Filipino dude from that one season of Moesha, starred in the uncomfortably bad comedy Fakin’ da Funk as Julian, a Chinese American teen who grew up raised in a Black family. At the beginning of the movie, the family moves from Atlanta to Los Angeles, where Julian undergoes an identity crisis about his culture, brought on by neighborhood kids questioning why he uses slang and plays basketball. (You’re telling me in Los Angeles in 1997 they’ve never met a Chinese kid who likes rap and basketball? Sure.) As is the norm in the ’90s, L.A. rapper Tone Loc is part of the cast as a gangster from around the way named Frog. He doesn’t really do much except mumble a lot and wear sunglasses, but he does get Julian’s little brother mixed up in the gang. Julian and Frog end up having to settle their differences through a basketball game, which Julian, of course, wins. Unexpectedly, Frog takes the loss pretty well and doesn’t pull a Wood Harris at the end of Above the Rim. After that journey, Fakin’ da Funk left me with a very important message: You can check the African American box off on your census if you can hoop.
