Last week’s dismissal of the lawsuit against UMG suggests that freedom of exaggeration must be protected
Drake lost, but artistic freedom won when a New York federal court dismissed the rapper’s lawsuit against the UMG Recordingslast week. The ruling did more than end one of rap’s most publicized legal dramas: It drew a clear line between artistic expression and literal accusation — a distinction that hip-hop artists have fought for decades to protect.
The case originated in “Not Like Us“, from Kendrick Lamara diss track heard around the world, in which Lamar called Drake of “avowed pedophile”. Drake sued the Universal Music Groupalleging that the company promoted and profited from defamatory lyrics that it knew to be false. The court disagreed. In rejecting the case, the judge Jeannette Vargas ruled that lyrics are protected by both the First Amendment and New York’s strong constitutional shield for creative expression.
Translation: diss tracks are performances, not confessions.
The judge Vargas understood something that many promoters and critics still ignore: context matters. “Statements must first be seen in their context,” she wrote, meaning that no reasonable listener would treat a rap lyric like the 5pm news. Hip hop is built on exaggeration, metaphor, and competition—the art of saying too much to prove a point. Treating this as factual truth is not only insensitive, it is unconstitutional. Yet prosecutors have been doing just that for years. Instead of proving their case with solid evidence, they try shortcuts, weaponize rap lyrics, and leverage more than forty years of hostile media treatment of rap—and rap’s artistic tradition itself—to confuse jurors and introduce racial bias.
The court also rejected a dangerous idea that has become all too common: that viral outrage can somehow rewrite legal reality. As stated Vargasin a world where billions of people are connected, it is possible to find “support for practically any proposal, no matter how absurd, in a matter of seconds.” Just because fans take a lyric literally doesn’t mean it’s defamatory. The internet doesn’t decide what’s true — the law does.
This decision not only concerns Drake and kendrick. Hip hop has always been the voice of the streets — raw, fearless and unfiltered. Rappers have used their music to document racism, inequality, and resilience — and to tell the stories America doesn’t want to hear. To confuse this creative expression with criminal intent is to use culture as a weapon against the very people who created it.
Fortunately, the tide is changing. In 2022, the governor of California, Gavin Newsomsanctioned the Decriminalization of Artistic Expression Law, the first law in the country to limit the use of rap lyrics and other creative works as evidence in courts. This historic legislation sent a message across the country: art is not a crime.
Now, Congress needs to extend this protection to the national level, approving the Artistic Protection Restoration Act (from English Restoring Artistic Protection Actor RAP) of 2025. This bipartisan bill would change the rules of evidence to prevent creative expression from being used as evidence except in specific circumstances. If prosecutors want to use a creative expression as evidence—whether it be a song lyric, a poem, a screenplay, or a novel—they will need to demonstrate, clearly and convincingly, that the artist intended his work to be interpreted literally and that it directly references the specific crime alleged.
Simply put, the RAP Act protects metaphor from being confused with motive.
This would encode what the opinion of Vargas already states: artistic discourse is essential for the functioning of a democracy, not an accomplice to crime. It would also ensure that artists do not have to rely on the luck of a culturally fluent judge to protect their rights. The RAP Act would create national consistency where bias currently reigns — preventing prosecutors from using art to inflame jurors’ fears rather than prove facts.
The process of Drake It was never about the veracity of the lyrics Lamar. It was about whether the law can still differentiate narrative from declaration, persona of personality. The court answered yes—decisively. But until Congress enshrines this distinction in federal law, artists will continue to run the risk of having their imaginations turn against them.
The decision Graham versus UMG Recordings is more than a legal victory. It’s a cultural reset — a reminder that art exists to provoke, question, exaggerate, and even offend. If we allow prosecutors, juries, or online mobs to turn metaphors into confessions, we will more effectively silence the voices that challenge power.
Protecting this freedom is not indulgence — it is the basis of creative democracy. RAP is how we ensure the law keeps pace.
About the writers: Dina LaPolt is a lawyer, activist and author of ‘Sensuality: Success in a Man’s World’; Willie “Prophet” Stiggers is president and CEO of the Black Music Action Coalition; Jack Lerner is a clinical professor of law at the University of California, Irvine School of Law and co-author of Rap on Trial: A Legal Guide for Attorneys (Second Edition, 2024). Special thanks to Chandler Lawn, a student at the University of Texas School of Law.
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Source: Rollingstone
Earl Johnson is a music writer at Gossipify, known for his in-depth analysis and unique perspective on the industry. A graduate of USC with a degree in Music, he brings years of experience and passion to his writing. He covers the latest releases and trends, always on the lookout for the next big thing in music.
