Often outrageous and always real, his music was a shield, a sanctuary, and a road map for outsiders.
We spoke to Garnette Cadogan, whose brilliant essay in 'The Fire This Time' shows how walking is yet another arena where a black person must tread carefully.
It's not just students taking the smart drug to help them power through their workload.
When I lost my home, I turned to the Department of Housing and Urban Development. But I slipped through the cracks of the bureaucracy.
I worked at a bar for five years. It was one of those bars that are there to preserve a moment, a state of being, nothing ever changing; crypts with golden sarcophagi, men who can exist as royalty for all eternity.
As a ghost tour guide in Savannah, Georgia, I recounted stories about women being raped, abused, and killed.
Every year, thousands of starry-eyed kids move to coastal metropolises in search of something they could find anywhere.
When I revealed my diagnosis to my mother, she told me to go to Cairo, convinced that I'd be healed there.
"Why wasn't anybody writing about the thrill of cancelling plans just so you could safely sit clothed in the shower for six hours?"
A series of essays about how the world is going to change in the next few years. Why? Because it's January and hopefully we're all ready to shrug off the calamitous mess that was 2014 and stride onward into the rising sun.
Love. Angel. Music. Baby. is simultaneously a racist mess, a lyrical car crash and a treasure chest containing champagne kisses.
Why "i" is the most punk rock song Kendrick Lamar has ever made.