Kendrick Lamar’s Super Bowl halftime performance wasn’t just entertainment or a diss at Drake; it was a powerful critique of race, identity and power in America. That said, this is just my interpretation, not the definitive or only way to see it. Art is always open to multiple perspectives, especially from someone as layered as Kendrick. After some reflection, here is my take on the performance and all of the details that might’ve flown over the heads of many—but I fully acknowledge that others may see it differently.
Symbolism in Sound: Defiance, Censorship and Authenticity
Lamar’s lowercase “A” chain carries layered meaning, referring to the infamous “A minor chord” lyric in “Not Like Us” and the logo of the label he founded, pgLang, symbolizing artistic independence and defiance. His hesitation before performing “Not Like Us” alluded to the legal tensions surrounding the song, reflecting broader censorship and struggles with artistic suppression. The “oh no” soundbite from “King Kunta” was a direct callback to his long-standing critique of ghostwriting, reinforcing his stance on authenticity—especially amid his feud with Drake, who has faced accusations of using ghostwriters. This moment underscored Lamar’s commitment to artistic integrity and his championing critique of inauthenticity in hip-hop.
Layers of Meaning: Serena Williams, SZA and “All the Stars”
Serena Williams’ performance of the crip walk, for which she was widely criticized during her tennis career, was more than just a dance — it was a reclamation of her agency. As someone who grew up in Compton, a city deeply tied to the struggles and resilience of Black culture, Williams’ expression on the court reflected where she came from. She faced relentless racism in the overwhelmingly white world of professional tennis, from unfair scrutiny of her emotions to policing of her body and celebrations. Her crip walk wasn’t just a moment of joy; it was a statement of pride, defiance and ownership of her identity. Lamar’s lyric, “You better not speak on Serena,” addressed Drake’s past comments about her husband, Alexis Ohanian. Drake, who previously dated Williams, took shots at Ohanian in his song “Middle of the Ocean,” dismissively referring to him as a “groupie.” Lamar’s line can be seen as a defense of Williams, asserting that her name — and, by extension, her family — should not be disrespected.
Just as Lamar’s lyric about Williams defended her agency against outside scrutiny, his song “All the Stars” took a relevant stance on his own personhood. Highlighting entitlement and ownership in the industry, the song seemed to allude to those who believe they have a stake in an artist’s success or feel owed recognition for their influence. Through its placement and delivery, the song seemed to allude to those who believe they have a stake in an artist’s success or feel owed recognition for their influence. SZA’s ethereal vocals underscored this theme, emphasizing the tension between artistic independence and the expectations placed on creators by the industry and the public alike.
“This is the Great American Game”
Lamar’s opening line carried a double meaning. On the surface, it referenced football, America’s most popular sport. Still, beneath that, it introduced a story about the more profound “game” of American society, comprising systemic oppression, capitalism, racial inequality, and power struggles.
Lamar’s freestyle lyrics, “no hugs, no handshakes,” set the tone, rejecting performative niceties and emphasizing that he wasn’t here to play by the rules of the industry or society. His line, “You wouldn’t get the picture if I sat you for hours at the Louvre,” underscored the complexity of his message. If you don’t understand the injustices he addresses, no explanation will make it clearer.
This sentiment echoed Gil Scott-Heron’s “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised,” a 1970s critique of how mainstream media dilutes change or obscures evidence of a need for change in favor of entertainment and consumerism. By directly sampling Scott-Heron’s iconic spoken word piece, Lamar reinforced the connection between past and present struggles, emphasizing that the fight for justice has been ongoing for decades. His performance underscored the continued resistance against commercialization and the need for authentic representation, reminding us that true revolution happens beyond what is packaged for public consumption.
The American Flag and Uncle Sam: A Nation Divided
Black dancers formed a fractured American flag, their backs constructing the emblem—a powerful symbol of how the country was built on Black labor yet remains deeply divided, referencing America’s foundation of exploitation. The visual starkly contrasted patriotic ideals with the reality of oppression.
In the likeness of Samuel L. Jackson’s character in “Django Unchained,” Uncle Sam embodied the enduring Uncle Tom archetype — how Black figures in positions of power can be weaponized to uphold systemic oppression. Just as Jackson’s character ruthlessly enforced the master’s rule over other enslaved people, modern institutions often elevate select Black individuals as gatekeepers, using them to police their own and preserve the status quo rather than dismantle the system designed to oppress.
Gaming Metaphors: “Mass Incarceration is Modern-Day Slavery”
Lamar incorporated gaming imagery to expose the systemic exploitation of Black lives. A prison yard was shown inside the depiction of a PlayStation controller’s buttons, visually linking mass incarceration to a rigged game where Black people are treated as disposable commodities.
The phrase “Scorekeeper, deduct one life” reinforced this theme, highlighting how Black men are often criminalized and targeted by systemic structures that devalue their existence. The imagery also paralleled real-life statistics, where mass incarceration disproportionately affects Black communities. As the lights displayed “GAME OVER,” Lamar delivered a stark reminder that the rules of this game are designed for Black individuals to lose.
His line, “40 acres and a mule, this is bigger than the music,” referenced the unfulfilled post-Civil War promise of reparations, connecting past injustices to present-day economic and social disparities.
The Final Statement: “They Tried to Rig the Game, But You Can’t Fake Influence”
Lamar left an unshakable message as the performance neared its end: “They tried to rig the game, but you can’t fake influence.” The dancers, who initially emerged from the same car, ended up divided, symbolizing how society fractures Black unity through systemic barriers, internal conflict and external manipulation. The patriotic color scheme nodded to the American flag and gang culture, highlighting divisions within communities often fueled by larger societal forces.
One dancer hung from a lamppost in the pose of The Hanged Man — a tarot card symbolizing sacrifice and enlightenment — evoking the unmistakable image of a lynching. Beneath them, Uncle Sam coldly deducted another life, a chilling reminder that the brutal history of Black bodies hanging from trees has merely evolved into a system that continues to extract Black life and labor without remorse. This haunting visual underscored the enduring reality that Black individuals are still forced to sacrifice themselves within a structure that was never built for their survival or success.
Beyond Entertainment
Lamar’s halftime show wasn’t just a performance—it was a bold statement on racial and social struggles in America. While many just wanted to dance, those who truly listened recognized the profound message. The game is over, but the fight for real change is far from finished—and it’s a reminder that music can be a powerful force for awareness and action.