Mike and Bassey take a winding, hilarious ride through hip hop memory and modern rap metrics. From Jay-Z verses that feel like short films to the Gen Z re-discovery wave, they debate what makes an MC “undeniable,” why Drake’s legacy feels fumbled, and why Kendrick’s greatness still sparks weird arguments (including a surprisingly intense debate about haircuts and “cool”). Bassey gets mad at Mike, and it's hilarious.

Then the convo pivots to the Diddy documentary fallout, 50 Cent’s role in shaping the narrative, and what happens when nuance gets labeled as “support.” They close on holiday life, family dynamics, book recs, party games, and the kind of real talk that only happens when culture, critique, and community collide.

See y'all in 2026!

In this episode of The Idea Of…, Bassey and Mike sit with the tension of being Gen X, being outside in the 90s, and watching the fall of one of the most powerful figures in hip hop culture. This is not a scene-by-scene breakdown of the documentary. It is a conversation about how Diddy became the blueprint for fame as reward, how Bad Boy shaped the way we dressed, partied, and saw black excellence, and how all of that now sits next to stories of violence, manipulation, and sociopathy.

They talk parenthood & distance, empty nests and loneliness, mobster energy in the music industry, and what it means when the people who built the soundtrack to your formative years also tainted the memories attached to those songs. From Wendy Williams and Mase to 50 Cent and Trump, Mike and Bassey trace the networks of protection, power, and silence, and ask what we do with nostalgia when we finally know the whole story.

In this deeply personal solo episode of The Idea Of…, Mike hits record with no notes and lets his mind and heart run. What starts as a reflection on being a verbal processor turns into a full exploration of belonging, isolation, and the complicated ways family, fatherhood, and hurt shape how we show up.

Grounded in his lived experience and his research on Black fathers, Mike wrestles with the fear of being “70 and alone,” while admitting he often feels okay being solo in the present. It’s honest, messy, and vulnerable—a mirror for men who are quietly carrying similar questions about love, family, and what it means to belong.