Kanye West's "I'm in It," a would-be club banger, is a macabre take on arena rap. The shock value on this particular track is based around visceral sexuality (would you believe?) and is a nearly coherent narrative about Kanye’s ideals on a sexual encounter.
“We was up at the party but we was leavin' fast/Had to stop at 7-Eleven like I needed gas/ I'm lyin', I needed condoms, don't look through the glass,” Kanye, vocally chopped and screwed, assures the song’s subject, a female of mutual coital interest.
If this album makes anything clear, its that any female Kanye raps about could be one of thousands. Another title for Yeezus could be Sorry Kim. Lil Wayne made rapping about cunnilingus somewhat of a trademark, and Ye appears to Bogart in this track, with less than stellar results, “Eatin’ Asian pussy, all I need is sweet and sour sauce.”
Could this track be off to a worse start?
And then, suddenly, the bass kicks a sharp, lasting drone. Dancehall artist Agent Sasco spits a couplet of verses. Something about a “bad man ting.” It is not really part of Kanye’s lyrical thread, but Agent Sasco's verses play nicely with the buildup. Kanye and Bon Iver singer Justin Vernon tag team the chorus, and the beat drops. It’s thumper that calls back to “N*ggas In Paris,” but don’t try and bop your head to this one. Clocking in at around 70 beats per minute, this low-end pulse has a creeping pace that would make even dubstep fans glance furtively at their watches. Can a metronome even move that slowly?
“Take it up where we left off …” Kanye says bringing the lyrical pornography back. Horror-core is mainstay on Yeezus, which is common, but when Yeezus says “black girl sippin’ white wine/ put my fist in her like a civil rights sign” we wonder if we will ever recover. Before we know it, when we thought the song couldn’t get any crazier Kanye builds his way to the song’s biggest quirk, this transitional break beat: “Held it ‘till the right time, then she came like ‘AAAAAAH-a-a-a-a-a!’ — That’s why I’m in it and I can’t get out.” This moment is intentionally hilarious and, judging by the choppy staccato, shocking both literally and figuratively.
Stereotypically for the male, the orgasm is succeeded by feelings of apathy, and a sudden return to a normal, logical, state of mind. For Kanye, this means recognizing this aforementioned woman as a “star f*cker” as Justin Vernon sings in the bridge. Then, Kayne hops up for one last verse:
“Time to take it too far now/Uh, Michael Douglas out the car now/ Uh, got the kids and the wife life/Uh, but can't wake up from the night life/Uh, I'm so scared of my demons/Uh, I go to sleep with a nightlight/Uh, my mind move like a Tron bike/Uh, pop a wheelie on the Zeitgeist/ ... Uh, they be balling in the D-League/Uh, I be speaking Swag-hili.”
Lyrically, this is not out of Kanye’s typical grasp but the very strong cadence is reminiscent of his coup de grace on Late Registration’s Gone. Its almost as if Kanye was warming up with his first two verses to prime for himself for the outro. Embedded in this verse is the signature Kanye, confident in himself, but fearful of his insecurities and flaws, in simultaneous salvo and soliloquy of a man lost in his own personality. When will that core contradiction of Kanye be less than compelling? Not on this album.