Cardi B dropped exactly one song this year, but after "WAP," any more might have been overkill. Raunchy, fun and infinitely quotable, she joins Megan Thee Stallion for a shameless ode to, well, wet-ass p****, that flies in the face of those who might suggest these women's sexuality is a shortcoming. At every turn, the two dare listeners to look away with a perfect storm of irresistible qualities: the familiar, through a prominent sample of Frank Ski's Baltimore club classic "Whores in This House," the taboo in subject and attitude, the spectacle of unity between two of music's brightest talents. Meg is a more traditional stylist, whose voice oozes unassailable confidence, while Cardi is all theatrics and humor, effortlessly selling every last line, no matter how ridiculous (or anatomically incorrect) — a synergy that refracts the best qualities of one through the prism of the other. Together, they are magic.To no one's surprise, a pair of women honoring their own ladyparts and the pleasures they dish out and expect returned in spades drew the ire of the insecure, of zealots and moral grandstanders. The backlash, however inseparable from the song's cultural narrative, only bolsters the argument for its politics of pleasure. At its core, "WAP" is Cardi and Meg's assertion that their expression, both artistic and sexual, belongs to them and them alone. Such a filthy bit of joy may be born of entertainment, but it persists as necessity — fake prudishness be damned.
Meanwhile, NPR named Cardi B's "WAP" as song of the year in 2020, and couldn't even type out what the actual acronym means without censoring it.
u/#Clownworld
https://www.npr.org/2020/12/03/934634998/the-100-best-songs-of-2020-page-5