Is Ice Spice a Demon?

On Ice Spice, Cleotrapa, and the Online Politics of Faith

Rap has always been a breeding ground for beef, and the female rap scene is no exception. Perhaps the biggest contemporary rivalry in the industry is that between Cardi B and Nicki Minaj–at this point, most fans can’t even remember its origins, but between the thrown shoe and the repeated verbal attacks on family members, including children, it’s clear that it’s here to stay. Since Cardi’s meteoric rise to the top of the charts in 2017, dozens of young women have entered the game–a few of which have also had their negative run-ins with Minaj–and while many have become good friends and advocated for the empowerment of other successful women, the tradition of contention lives on.

If you frequent TikTok like I do, there’s a good chance you’ve heard about the newest dramatic fallout, but in case you haven’t, a little recap: Ice Spice, rapper of viral hits like “Munch” and “Boy’s a liar Pt. 2”, invited fellow New York artist Cleotrapa to open for her on a tour that started the next day, and allegedly mistreated, ostracized, and refused to feed her. Cleotrapa went on to make a six part, hour long TikTok exposé (that I, of course, watched in its entirety) during which she shared her story. Throughout her videos–which are the newest installment of long-form TikTok series inspired by ReesaTeesa’s viral “Who TF Did I Marry” saga–Cleotrapa tells viewers that not only is Ice Spice not a girl’s girl, but she’s not even human. Instead, she’s a demon, equipped with a dark aura and completely soulless eyes. Cleo is open about her Christian faith, and says that while she wanted to leave the tour many times due to her treatment, she trusted that God wouldn’t put her anywhere she wasn’t meant to be and that as long as she had Him, Ice’s transgressions would pass. She visibly shudders every time she mentions Ice’s cold stare, stressing the fact that evil, supernatural forces were at play. This subtle but intentional messaging caused fans to go crazy–they flocked to the comments, rushing to share their previous spiritual speculations about the young rapper that were now confirmed. They made videos panicking about the hand symbols she sometimes makes and cited a video in which she couldn’t sit still during a prayer. Suddenly, the conversation had shifted from being about a bad friend to one of the Devil’s societal infiltration.

While this is not a new phenomenon by any means–I remember seeing YouTube videos of reversed and slowed Beyoncé songs during which she pledged allegiance to hell and all its inhabitants in the 2010s–we are living through its Renaissance. After the pandemic especially, there has been a sort of widespread faith-based psychosis that has permeated every corner of the internet. There are few modern online discourses that don’t quickly devolve into strict, paranoid sermons. The far-right is very famously convinced that Satan lives in the history books and pride flags in classrooms, and emphasizes the importance of keeping children as close to the chest as possible so as to save them from the inevitable brainwashing of the woke left. Meanwhile, Christian Americans all throughout the political spectrum looked in horror as their version of evil invaded the opening ceremony of the Paris 2024 Olympics through scenes of a risky menage-a-trois, a metallic horse that they claimed alluded to the Horsemen of the Apocalypse, and most controversial of them all, an alleged mockery of the Last Supper. We’ve gotten to a point where mean is no longer mean and taboo is no longer just weird–it’s all demons. The beliefs themselves, while disconcerting, are not even the biggest issue; it’s the fact that those who share these sentiments online cannot take no for an answer. Every explanation they are given is a cover up, and anyone who offers a different perspective is a vessel through which the Devil speaks. It leads to a never-ending spiral that no one can pull them out of. It would be funny if it wasn’t deeply sad; I know from experience the fear that comes from long Sundays spent in church hearing about hellfire and raptures.

This attitude has contributed to a scary form of online vigilantism that has made social media unsafe for many of its users. Suddenly, to be traditionally religious is to be persecuted by a world with crumbling morals, and anyone who strays from these traditions is the enemy–not only of the people, but of the Lord–and needs to be attacked (It is no coincidence that their victims are overwhelmingly women, queer people, or any other permutation of marginalized identities). Creators like Andrew Tate, along with his many incel copycats, have taken complete advantage of this mindset. They make content that caters to young boys and convinces them that the world has abandoned God-fearing men and maleness itself, and explicitly encourage them to take it upon themselves to punish those who disagree. In an odd way, this behavior is a mirror of the culture of parasocialism that primarily finds its footing on “Stan Twitter”. In God’s place is the Celebrity; through their persistence and devotion, stans become disciples. Anyone who dares speak out against Taylor Swift’s carbon footprint or Nicki Minaj’s many moral failings is Judas, and instead of being kindly questioned and corrected, they should immediately be doxxed and harassed until they delete their accounts. Dedicated stans, who are overwhelmingly queer, and trad Christians probably agree on very few things, but in this way, they employ many of the same tactics. In both cases, I see people scared by what they don’t know scrambling to find explanations. 

As I look back at Cleotrapa’s videos, all I can do is laugh. Her start online was that of a comedian, and it shows. Her heavy New York accent, paired with the absurdity of Ice Spice’s actions–like secretly going to a steakhouse as Cleo starved–makes for an amazing hour of pure bewilderment. Given Ice’s 10 million follower advantage on Cleo, however, I wonder if the latter’s story would have been as quickly received if not for the spiritual angle of attack. I’m not yet convinced that the internet would have thrown Ice Spice to the wolves as fast as they did, especially for an upcoming dark skinned artist, if they didn’t first believe that she needed to be taken down on account of Christ. While I’m happy Cleo was heard and validated, I wish it was because people cared enough about each other and not about reaching an end that is, and will forever remain, unpromised.

So no, Ice Spice is not a demon. Famous 24 year olds are probably the meanest demographic on Earth, and that’s okay. Sometimes things are just bad and people are just mean and tableaus at tables are just tableaus at tables. There’s no shame in not liking these things–in fact, we need to bring back not liking things for no reason. As much as I wish all of humankind’s flaws were caused by underwordly possession, sometimes things, and people, just suck.