In the past few weeks, my social media timelines have been flooded with various Mount Rushmores. These chiseled four-headed mountains have listed everything from the GOATs of specific sports to the greatest Disney Channel actresses, to the top four male R&B singers of all time, to the greatest female R&B singers of all time; I’ve even seen a couple of Mount Rushmores for the Greatest Off-Key Female Singers. And, of course, there have been several hip-hop-based Mount Rushmores floating around. The Greatest Hip-Hop Producers, GOAT rappers (East Coast, West Coast, and South editions), and a few versions of the greatest female rappers. One of the GLOAT four-headed mountaintops that caught me off guard featured Lauryn Hill, Nicki Minaj, Lil’ Kim, and Missy Elliott.

I’ve often heard Nicki, Latifah, and Kim’s names thrown around in the greatest conversation, but seeing Missy’s name on the list left me a bit baffled. I’ve only watched Missy’s career from a distance and am only familiar with her biggest hits. But from the little I’ve gathered, she’s more of a vibe-type rapper than a lyrical emcee, which is normally the criteria for those who make these lists. But again, my opinion comes from a limited knowledge of her music. This brings me to today’s subject, Supa Dupa Fly.

Supa Dupa Fly is Missy Misdemeanor Elliott’s debut solo album. Previously, she was part of the R&B group Sista, which released an album in 1994 (4 All The Sistas Around Da World) before the group disbanded. The Sista project was produced by Devante Swing (of Jodeci fame) and Timothy “Timbaland” Mosley. Missy was obviously pleased with Timbo’s output on the Sista project, as she would call on him to produce the entirety of SDF. She would also get help in the form of cameos from a few established artists and introduce the world to a few new names. SDF received pounds of critical acclaim (Rolling Stone, which ironically gave SDF a 3.5-star rating upon its release, would list it at ninety-three on their 500 Greatest Albums of All-Time list in 2020) and earned Missy two Grammy Award nominations. It would also earn Missy a platinum plaque, starting her streak of six consecutive platinum-selling albums, a feat I don’t think any other female rapper can claim.

I’ve never listened to Supa Dupa Fly, but I’m confident that in the millions of albums recorded in the past hundred and forty years, more than ninety-two are superior to it. But I’ll play along.

Busta’s Intro – Busta Rhymes is arguably the biggest cameo whore in hip-hop history (I’ve never tabulated the numbers, but it’s surely between him and Lil Wayne). In ‘97, he was still in the early stages of his impressive cameo run. He kicks off SDF with a few energized words and an animated verse over a revised instrumental of SWV and Missy Elliott’s “Can We.”

Hit ‘Em Wit Da Hee – Lil Kim kicks this one off with a verse that has remnants of Biggie’s rhyming residue on it. Then Timbaland unleashes a mildly funky production for Missy to convince a guy who has her open that it’s not his material possessions that have her feeling him. She forces her “hee-ha” tagline into a hook that has nothing to do with the verses but still sounds catchy. The liner notes say the track features an artist named Mocha. Maybe she helps Missy sing the hook? I’m not sure.

Sock It 2 Me – Timbo’s intense instrumental sounds like it’s prepared for war, and Missy sounds ready to get laid. She sings and pleads with the object of her affection to give her some good lovin’, and Da Brat jumps in at the end of the track to add a verse declaring 1997 the beginning of “The bitch era.” Her words, not mine.

The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly) – This was the album’s lead single and biggest hit. Missy’s choppy stop-and-go flow sounds tailor-made for Timbaland’s hypnotic slow-rolling funk, infused with Ann Peebles’ soulful vocal tone. It’s a genius record backed by an incredibly original and entertaining video (by the way, Yo-Yo looks amazing in that video!).

Beep Me 911 – The female R&B trio 702 joins Missy as they play the victims of a sheep in wolf’s clothing’s hit and run/betrayal. Magoo plays the wolf and raps a verse that throws his manipulation in the ladies’ faces (Magoo gives a serviceable performance, but Twista would have completely slayed this slick groove). The hook is nonsensical (if you know the nigga is no good, why in the hell are you paging him to see what he’s going to tell you?), but the beeper reference is a clue to what era the record was made in if you forgot. Timbo’s beatbox-assisted instrumental is soulfully funky and feels good. Rest in peace, Magoo and Irish Grinstead from 702.

They Don’t Wanna Fuck Wit Me – Missy talks her shit over Timbo’s chunky funk, and Tim even jumps on the track to co-sign Missy’s not to be fucked with. Just in case you didn’t get her point during the first minute and forty-five seconds of the track, she harmonizes her shit talk for the last minute and twenty seconds. Dope record that should have ended around the two-minute mark.

Pass Da Blunt – Missy addresses all the producers making “fraud Timbaland beats,” calls out all the bitches that want to be her, brags about goldiggin’ on niggas (did she brag about rolling with Puffy? That line hasn’t aged well), and haphazardly tries to tie all these topics together by passing a blunt on the refrain. Like the content, the music takes on four or five different lives. This record was all over the place.

Bite Our Style (Interlude) – Over a chilled and breezy backdrop, Missy harmonizes about how appealing she and Timbaland’s style is.

Friendly Skies – Ginuwine joins Missy on this slow jam duet. Maybe I should call it a vocal trio, as the electronic voice from Ginuwine’s “Pony” joins the duo and sounds dope as hell in the background. This was pretty smooth.

Best Friends – Sticking with the duet theme, the beautiful Aaliyah joins Missy on this record as the two sing from the perspective of best friends, down for each other through thick or thin. It’s a heartwarming, upbeat R&B record that I enjoyed. Continue to rest in peace, Aaliyah, and hopefully, that’s the last rest in peace I have to give during this write-up.

Don’t Be Commin’ (In My Face) – Get your minds out of the gutter. The song is about Missy growing tired of her man and his cheating ways. Everything about this song was boring as shit. Maybe the record would have been more interesting if it were about Missy telling her man how much she doesn’t like his facials.

Izzy Izzy Ahh – Catchy hook, and I love the country blues funk in Timbo’s instrumental.

Why You Hurt Me – Missy airs the dirty laundry of her homegirl Cutey Tootie, known on the streets as Loosey Booty, for the way she’s (as Missy puts it) “going around humpin’ everybody.” Missy does a serviceable job laying out the storyline, and Timbo’s relaxed, bluesy backdrop accommodates her stop-and-go rhyming style well.

I’m Talkin’ – Our hostess talks more shit over Timbaland’s pensive production.

Gettaway – Missy turns this into an all-female cipher session as she’s joined by Space and Nicole Wray (whose name some of you might recognize for her solo R&B career). The ladies spit decent bars, but the beatbox embedded in the instrumental quickly gets annoying, and at this stage in the album, I didn’t need to hear Missy (for the umpteenth time) harmonize a whole verse about how fly her rhymes are.

Busta’s Outro – Busta shares a few parting words before we get the fuck out of here. Almost…

Missy’s Finale – Per the track title, Missy gives a few thank yous (apparently, it wasn’t enough to do it in the liner notes) before officially closing the album.

As I mentioned in the opening, I was only familiar with a few of Missy Elliott’s singles going into this review. “The Rain” and “Get Ur Freak On” were certified bangers no man or woman could deny or resist. Timbaland’s electrifying rhythms and pulsating bass lines were sure bets to get you out of your seat and move your body, or at the very least, nod your head passionately. Missy rapped on both of those records, but it was Timbo’s production that made more of an impact on me. That sentiment pretty much sums up Supa Dupa Fly.

On SDF, Missy presents as a hybrid artist, singing just as much as she raps. She’s not a powerhouse vocalist, but she knows her limited range and stays in that pocket. She’s not a super lyrical emcee with a great flow, but instead, spoon feeds the listener each word with her choppy, stop-and-go, conversational delivery. Without being a phenomenal singer or an exceptional rapper, Missy efficiently does her thing on the mic, heavily relying on catchy hooks and Timbo’s production, with most of the weight resting on Timbaland’s sonics. Timbaland shoulders the load without budging, stringing together an amalgam of VA funk, R&B/Soul vibes, and sprinklings of pop elements, with traditional hip-hop fundamentals as his sound foundation. There are one or two mediocre production moments on SDF, but most of it consists of solid to bangin’ instrumentals, leaving Missy with the easy assignment to not miss the lay-up.

I enjoyed SDF. It’s a solid debut from Missy Elliott, but its level of flyness isn’t supa dupa or one of the hundred greatest albums of all time. And since she has five more solo albums, the jury is still out on whether she deserves a spot on Mount Rushmore.

-Deedub
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