Dissect - S13E12 - Why is Baby Keem on Mr. Morale? Dissecting "Savior - Interlude"

Episode Date: June 3, 2025

Our season-long dissection of Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers continues with "Savior - Interlude" performed by Baby Keem. We explore how Keem's feature mirrors Kodak Black's, why Kendrick Lamar made this symbolic pairing, and how it all sets up the next song "Savior." Shop ⁠Dissect S13 Merch⁠. Follow Dissect on⁠ Instagram⁠,⁠ Twitter⁠, or⁠ TikTok⁠. Host/Writer/EP: Cole Cuchna Video/Audio Production: Kevin Pooler Additional Production: Justin Sayles Theme Music: Birocratic Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

From the Ringer Podcast Network, this is Dysect, long-form musical analysis broken into short digestible episodes. This is episode 12 of our season-long analysis of Kendrick Lamar's Mr. Morrell and The Big Stepers. I'm your host, Cole Kushner. Last time on Dissect, we examined both Crown and Silent Hill, tracks two and three on Mr. Morow's second disc. It was there we found Kendrick expressing the overwhelming weight of responsibility he feels as a voice of his community.

After recognizing his agency and setting boundaries for himself, we heard Kendrick retreat to a Hill of Silence, continuing his album-long quest to decipher what's real in his life and eliminate the fakes who are just around to exploit him. At the end of Silent Hill, Kodak Black makes his third appearance on the album, rapping a verse that in many ways reflected his initial feature on Rich Interlude. He talks about his struggles growing up poor and without a father, and expresses amazement at the success he's had given the odds stacked against him. Kodak's presence on Silent Hill also sets up one of the album's central reflection points, as Kodak is directly juxtaposed with the voice of Eckart Tolley, the album's therapist who begins the next track,

the subject of our episode today, Savior Interlude. If you derive your sense of identity from being a victim, let's say, bad things were done to you when you were a child, and you develop a sense of self that is based on the bad things that happened to you. Now, before getting into Tolle's insight here, I want to acknowledge what we hear behind his voice during this introduction. Here it is isolated. Blue, blue red, blue, red, blue, red, blue and blue and blue and blue and blue and blue. We hear two children saying blue red over and over. If this sounds vaguely familiar to you, it's because these voices also appeared briefly

during the intro of Father Time. As you listen, notice that the voices appear in the background exactly when Whitney says to reach out to Eckhart and that the instrumental is elegant strings, the same kind of strings that will score save your interlude. Clearly, these children's voices are an intentional reflection point between the two discs. The question is, why? Well, it's no coincidence that they first appeared when Whitney attempting to get Kendrick to go to therapy. This would seem to imply that the voices have something to do with Kendrick's past,

perhaps the root of his trauma. But Kendrick rejects Whitney's request on Father Time. The children's voices are silence. They are avoided and left unaddressed. But now in Act 2, Kendrick has finally reached out to Eckhart. Thus, the voices returned during Tolley's first insight into Kendrick's life, and specifically about his childhood. With this context, we could attempt to decipher the intended meaning behind the repeating

blue, red spoken by the children. Fans of Kendrick know blue and red to be a pretty consistent motif throughout his discography, perhaps used most potently on the song Good Kid from Good Kid Mad City, where Kendrick presents a dual meaning to blue and red in the song's two verses. In verse one, it describes the colors of the crips and bloods that contributed to the dangerous environment of his childhood in Compton. On verse two, Kendrick uses red and blue to describe flashing police lights, representing another source of danger in his childhood environment. Understanding, understanding you just want to kill all my heinouss while ignoring my purpose to persevere as a better person.

I know you heard this and probably inferior. But what am I supposed to do when the bleak and a red and blue flash from the top of your roof and your dog has to say proof and you ask. Understanding this motific use of blue and red to describe various sources of violence during his youth. It seems likely that the children ominously repeating blue-red symbolizes the trauma of his childhood. The perpetual violence he experienced, witnessed, and feared throughout his youths. upbringing in Compton. Of course, confronting childhood trauma is a common practice and therapy, so pairing the voices of children with the first words from the album's therapist Eckart Tolley points to Kendrick finally starting to address his deep-seated issues. This is further supported

by what Tolly says to Kendrick, if you derive your sense of identity from being a victim, let's say bad things were done to you when you were a child, and you develop a sense of self that is based on the bad things that happened to you. This excerpt begins to capture Tolly's teachings about the ego and its proclivity to identify or build a sense of self around concepts or ideas. He teaches that the ego searches for anything to validate its existence, which is not exclusive to just positive things like wealth or beauty. The ego will also use negative things when there aren't positive things to identify with. And it very often happens that the memory of having been abused is used by the ego that is added to the ego's

sense of self. So that means you not only remember what happened to you, the memory of what happened to you, which is a bundle of thoughts and emotion that go with it, the memory of what happened to you is more than just a memory. There is self-identification with the memory. In other words, it's not perceived, it's just something that happened to you, but it becomes part of who you perceive to be. So I am a victim of that, it's not that this was done to me, but I am a victim of, so it's the transition from memory to self. After making the bad things that happen to you a part of your sense of self, Tully goes on to explain how the ego then twists your victim identity into a form of moral superiority, because that's always the ego's end goal to validate your existence by being more important than the next person. And so the superiority is a moral one, I could say, because if unjust things were done to you, then by being a victim of unjust deeds perpetrated by other humans,

you automatically become morally superior, not only to those humans who inflicted that on you, but also to other humans who are not victims or cannot claim, has not as much claim on victimhood as you have. So you are morally superior to them. It's a delusion. Every ego identity is a form of delusion. So ultimately, it's a delusion that the stronger the ego is, the more deluded you become about who you are.

When viewed through Tolle's lens, we can see how the ego doesn't necessarily care about what it identifies with. It can twist anything into a way. a form of superiority. That's its superpower. And just like identifying with being wealthy or privileged, Toli goes on to explain how a victim identity is severely limiting and takes away personal agency to transcend your individual circumstances. You're obviously morally superior to everybody who is less of a victim than you, but you condemn yourself almost to powerlessness. When you any kind of victim identity, you really want to remain powerless because to say that

You can transcend what was done to you. You can overcome the effect of it. You can go beyond it. You have the power to go beyond the abuse that was done to you, whichever human has that power. You can never discover that power if you are trapped in a victim identity. Of course, this complete understanding of Tolle's view on the ego and victimhood is not provided in the introduction of Savior Interlude.

However, Kendrick transcending his childhood trauma and the things that were done to him is ultimately what the entire album is working toward. And Tole's teachings illuminate how doing this will require Kendrick to dissolve his ego, which he described as the Lord of All Lords back on KaoMeal. Now, another key to fully understanding Tolay's first insight is to recognize its placement, as it strategically sits just after Kodak and Kendrick on Silent Hill and just before Baby Kemp's first appearance on the album. Tolly's insight is the communal mirror shared by Kendrick, Kodak, and Keeam.

The insight applies to all three men, three men who are the album's representative big stepers, the representatives of their community and this morality play. And as we talked about last episode, the reflective relationship between Kodak and Keem is reinforced by the album's strategic track list. When looking at the mirrored version of the two discs, where each song on disc one has a corresponding reflection on disc two, Save Your Interlude is the direct reflection point of Rich Interlude. Like Rich Interlude and its piano-only production, Save Your Interlude.

interlude features a strings-only production. Both tracks have the same title structure, and both are the only two songs that do not feature Kendrick himself. And so it's very clear that Kendrick wanted us to consider Kodak and Keem as a pair. Thematically, the two are presented as mere images of each other, who are themselves reflections of Kendrick himself. And with Tolay's insight being the clue to what they might all share in common, Keem's opening lines start to make the reason for this pairing very clear. Your uncle ever stole from me day after Christmas Seeing both of those in them county jail visits The first and the 15th, the only religion Loodles in the microwave, shark tank tied away Grandma's shooting niggins blood on the highway Crosses on the dashboard You just want a platform

I want to take everything that I ask for Keem opens his extended feature masterfully You ever seen your mama strung out while you study division Your uncle ever stole from you day after Christmas Seeing both of those and them county jail visits The first and the 15th, the only religion It's hard to overstate just how well-written this opening quatrain is, as Keem paints a succinct portrait of his childhood in just four bars. Younger cousin of Kendrick Amar, Hakeem Carter Jr. was born

in Carson, California, a neighboring city to Compton, but was raised in Las Vegas. His dad was never in his life, and his mother struggled with addiction. He told ID Magazine, quote, I grew up mainly with my grandma. It was just me and her. My family doesn't have a filter, and he'd grow up quick. You know shit you're not supposed to know. seeing shit you're never supposed to see. I grew up with her and I was kind of her best friend. I was a little kid so all the stress that she had financially was laid on me, even if it was unintentional." With Keem's opening bar, we peek into a window of his childhood experience. He begins by pairing his mother's addiction with his learning division, which is typically done in third

grade. It's a striking juxtaposition presented as a genuine question. As we imagine Keem's standing on the theater stage in this play, scored by cinematic strings, he's asked, the audience, asking you directly, do you know what that's like? Like, really think about those circumstances. Actually try to imagine processing that when you're eight or nine years old. The dichotomy continues in the next question, as Keem asks if our uncle ever stole our Christmas presents when we are kids. Really imagine being a child in poverty on Christmas Day, finally opening presents you've been looking forward to all year, only to have them stolen from you by your own family member, presumably for drug money. It's a potent, tragic image of innocence.

lost, the magic of Christmas stolen from a child coupled with the disappointment and confusion that your own uncle, your blood relative, would steal from you. Keem then implies that his family members were in and out of custody by citing his visits to the county jail to see them, and then cites his only religion was the first and the 15th, the days of the month in which government assistant checks are distributed, and not only conveys the poverty of his childhood, but also the lack of any spiritual guidance or faith that might help offset his circumstances. While Keem's questions here at the start of his verse are rhetorical, there's two people we know for sure that could answer those questions with a resounding yes, Kendrick Lamar and Kodak Black. They know

exactly what that's like. For Kendrick, the question hits close to home, literally, as Kendrick also had the experience of an older relative stealing from him for drug money. Kim continues his verse with a mosaic. Kim continues his verse with a mosaic. of images from his childhood. Noodles in the microwave, Shark Tank Tidal Wave, Grandma Shoot in N-Words, Blood on the Highway. Each image lends an impression, almost like how memories work. Microwave noodles implies poverty,

while Shark Tank seems like a reference to growing up in front of the television, but also to real threats of violence. This gives way to an image of witnessing his grandmother shooting a gun. Blood on the highway is a horror movie from 2008, so Keem seems to be continuing his blend of TV violence and real-life violence that pervaded his complex child. childhood. Most kids only see violence in TV and movies. Yet for Keem, Kodak, and Kendrick, it was part of their everyday reality.

One nigga right in front of my eyes. Rap and kill time. The ears flew by, till I got old enough to run up on you with a nine. I want to take everything that I asked for. Catch me a body. I put that on anybody but my mama. She's showing a pattern for certain.

I think it's white panties and men and more condoms. My uncle would tell me the shit in the movies could only be magic. This year I did 43 shows and took it all home to buy him a casket. One of the more striking sequences of Keem's verse begins when he wraps. I want to take everything that I ask for. Catch me a body. I'll put that on anybody by my mama. Directly after describing seeing his grandmother shoot someone,

Keem expresses his intuition to take or steal what he wants and is willing to catch a body or take a life to do so. It directly reflects the bars we just heard from Kodak, who witnessed an armed robbery at 9 years old and then mirrored that behavior when he was older. Kiem then plays off catching a body by saying he'd put that on any body but his mother, then continues by saying she's showing a pattern for search. I think it's white panties and minimal condoms. It's more body wordplay, alluding to his mother's

sexual body count. It's not exactly clear what Keem's implying here. It could be he saw a lot of men coming in and out of the house or that she was involved in sex work. In any case, it's another less than ideal image of his childhood, the tragic irony of so many men around, yet not having a male role model. Then, just like the verses opening sequence of lines, Keem follows the mention of his mother with a mention of his uncle, rapping, my uncle would tell me the shit in the movies could only be magic. This year, I did 43 shows and took it all home to buy him a casket. Keem calls back to the TV and movie motif here, relaying how a male figure in his life didn't tell him to follow his dreams, but rather the opposite, that the better life he sees in

movies isn't obtainable for people like him. Like Kodak did on both Rich Interlude and Silent Hill, Keem juxtaposes this with his current success touring the country and making money from his music. conveying how he beat the odds and obtained some of that movie magic. However, the tragic irony is that his uncle died when he was living out that dream, and that magic money paid for his funeral. While we can't know for certain, given Keem's young age, it would seem this uncle died in early death, and if it's the same uncle from the intro, substance abuse might have been the cause. Jack of all trades, got money at the way, put my heart in the faith, I'm good, love. Cousin in the courts heard he jumped off the porch, turned a brick to a porch, I'm good, love.

Catch us, you know, I'm going wreck up. I need the event. Man sent an equity to match up. The engineer dead if the drive don't back up. These words come of God, you can never outwrap us. Keem mentions yet another family member as he raps, Cousin in the Courts, heard he jumped off the porch, turn a brick to a Porsche, I'm good love. This seems to refer not to his cousin Kendrick Amar,

but another successful cousin of his, former NBA player Nick Young, who is also cousins with Kendrick. With this in mind, we understand the extended entendre Kemp executes here, blending basketball and selling drugs. cousin in the courts refers to cul-de-sacs and basketball courts. He jumped off the porch is slang for someone who decides to hustle in the streets,

but also alludes to physical jumping. The athletic ability required in the NBA. Finally, turned a brick to a Porsche, plays with money made from bricks of drugs, but also to bricks as in missed basketball shots, which almost certainly alludes to the famous Nick Young meme, where he prematurely celebrates a shot that he misses, that bricks. The mention of a Porsche gives way to some vehicle wordplay, as Keem wraps, Catch Us, you know I'm going to rack up.

Catch us plays off the fast sports car, while rack up can mean anything from racking up points in the NBA, wins on a racetrack, and or racking up piles of money. This gives way to I Need the Advance and the Equity to Matchup. The multi-layer wordplay sustains here as matchup is a term often used in competitive sports, be it the NBA or race cars. However, Keem is also saying he needs the advance money and equity or ownership of his music, not one or the other, but both. This direct nod to his music gets us to the next line,

The Engineer dead if the drive don't back up. On the surface, Keem is threatening his studio engineer if they fail to back up the hard drive containing his music, the thing that supports him, the thing that allowed him to transcend his childhood circumstances. But Engineer is also a play on a car's engine, while drive is again what a car does, but also plays on a drive to the hoop and basketball.

This exquisite mastery of words is so good it could only be sourced from the divine. Thus, Keem proclaims, These words come of God, you can never outwrap us. This line reflects the same proclamations Kendrick made on both rich spirit and worldwide steppers. We dress up the score, give me that brother, spirit medium on rap brother. As God to speak through me, that's what you hear now, the voice of yours truly,

teleport out. We also heard Kodak reflect a similar sentiment back on Rich Interloop. Understanding the circumstances they were born into and the odds stacked against them, Keem, Kendrick, and Kodak can't help but feel their musical talents are direct gifts from God. However, these gifts and the money and the influence they carry also brings about moral and ethical challenges, a central theme of Mr. Moral. And as Kim continues, we hear him address one of the issues we've heard Kendrick's struggle with all album long, a lust for women. Nowadays got a war cautious, hey, nowadays I'm a new prophet, hey, game dead on our tops, hey, city girl with a new hobby, hey, catch a body put the prodder in a tauta. Nigger about to get some pussy, give me five.

Gun dirty, got the dirty in a purse, purse. Tight bitch, put a perky in a cellar. I got to pray for the basic. I never seen my niggas bust down faces. The niggas not tasteless. I only had one chance. I ain't even wasted. Keem details his experience with a woman,

which we might assume he's with because he's wealthy and famous. He wraps City Girl with a new hobby, catch a body, put the Prada and the Tata, and we're about to get some pussy, give me five. Keem flips his previous use of catching a body. this time referring to picking up a woman and putting her in his car, presumably to go have sex with her, adding to his body count. He brags to his friends about the encounter, looking for a high high five or approval. It's yet another expression of astonishment, as we get the sense

Keem can't believe the kind of women he's now able to pull with his money and fame. He continues with more clever wordplay. Gun dirty got the 30 in the purse, tight bitch put a perky in her salad. The 30 here is the double entendre, referring to both the compact Glock 30 gun in her purse, as well as the M30 or Percocet pill she puts in her salad. This makes the tight and tight bitch and entendre as well, referring to her tight body she maintains by eating salad, but also denoting that she's uptight and thus takes a percassette to mellow her out. This might be what Keem was referring to when he said,

The City Girl, had a new hobby. This scene with the woman gives us an impression of the influences Keem is up against. Like Kodak and Kendrick, drugs, sex, and violence are available to Keem now in abundance. He's still incredibly young and his upbringing didn't seem to offer much in the way of role models or spiritual guidance. How will he handle himself with so many vices at his disposal? Been down on my luck. Been down on my luck when I fall. I got to get up. I got to get back up and ball. R. I p. under my people. I'm proud of my people. I'm proud of my dogs. My ex got a beam and she want me to see it. I still ain't go see it. Like, okay. I love when it wretched. I don't

do her paddock. I still do the watches. O way. She think I'm conceited. I'm thinking about cheating. I do the flowers a rope, hey. Now how can I fall looking at 20 million this money don't come with a probate? Mama, I said it'd be okay. King breaks into a more melodic section of his extended feature singing, Been down on my luck, been down on my luck when I fall. I gotta get up. I got to get back up and ball. This is a direct reflection of Act 2's opener Count Me Out, a song that features the choral refrain and I'm tripping and falling. It's an acknowledgement of life's ups and downs, and the importance of getting back on your feet when you inevitably fall. One of the reasons for Keem's low moments may be implied in the following lines,

RIP under my people, I'm proud of my people, I'm proud of my dogs. Like Kendrick and Kodak, Keem has experienced his fair share of loss, of grief, making him even prouder of the winds of his community, those who survived their rough environment and thrive despite their circumstances. He then continues sharing how his ex-girlfriend got a BMW and wants him to see it, but he won't, likely because he recognizes she's trying to lure him back because he's famous or that he's genuinely not interested in a real relationship. Because as he says next, I love when they ratchet. I don't do her protect. I still do the watches

the old way. She think I'm conceited. I'm thinking about cheating. I don't do the flowers or role play. Here we get a sense of Keem's intuition to womanize, to cheat, just like Kendrick. There's word play in the word ratchet, referring to both a quote-unquote trashy woman, but also to the mechanical ratchet used in watch construction. This gives away to his line about not buying her her a patech, an expensive luxury watch that wouldn't suit a ratchet girl, but also nods to the fact that he isn't here to wine and dine women. He doesn't do the flowers or role play. He just wants sex. He then continues, now how can I fold looking at 20 million? This money don't come with a probate. Keem sees a net worth of $20 million in his future, and that money is self-earned. It wasn't an

inheritance. It didn't come through a probate court. While there is technically a literal meaning here, we also understand Keem is talking broadly about his life. How his current success, success as a young man in the enormous opportunity to build on that success in his future was not something that was handed to him, and surely his childhood circumstances only made his path more difficult. This gives way to the line, Mama, I said I'd be okay. It's an endearing way to end this passage, calling back to the opening lines about his mother struggling with addiction. Despite his circumstantial inheritance being less than ideal, he assures his mother that he made it out okay. I got this shit bragging in four days, four hours, four hours, two eyes, switch

Snigga be fresh out, suicide doors are suicide, suicide, Lambo body, who gonna stop me, baby, Kim is too wild. Function at the temple, Jesus pieces, send a luw out. Mr. Moral. The instrumental transitions from strings to piano, closing the interlude on a more intimate note. Keem raps, I got this shit bracken in four days, a nod to just how rapid his rise to fame has been. Keem started making music in high school, and by the time he was just 18, he had production credits for Beyonce, J-Rock, and Schoolboy Q. At 18, he also released his first solo project, Die for My Bitch, which gained him considerable buzz before Kendrick's public cosign. While the specifics are different, this journey essentially mirrors Kodak Blacks, who was also just 18 when he found national success with music. Kodak is just three years older than Keem, a similarity in age that adds to the mirrored aspect of their pairing.

Importantly, Keem contrasts overnight success with potent wordplay, wrapping Switch sides, N-Word be fresh out suicide doors, I suicide, suicide, suicide. The service meaning is that Baby Keem has spent some of his newfound money on a car with suicide doors, which are hinged at the rear, not the front, hence switch sides. It's most likely referring to a Rolls Royce Coop, one of the more popular modern luxury cars with suicide doors. Uncoincidentally, this is a direct reflection point with Kodak's verse on Silent Hill, where he raps about a Rolls Royce that he describes as a suicide coop. Like Kodak's suicide coop was a funeral,

Keeme's over here we good, the AP room and numerous, Y, go I need for a pharmaceuticals, I ran my whole Cronommery, I was just map for shit out in the kubica, Suicide Koeuvre is a funeral. Like Kodak's suicide coup was a funeral, Keem plays with the idea of suicide door's proximity to actual suicide or death. He repeats, I Suicide, Suicide, to describe the danger that comes with young adults like Keem and Kodak, being handed so much money and influence at such a young age, especially considering their upbringing.

Thus we get the lines, Lambo body, Who Goon Stop Me, Baby Keem, is too wild. Lambo or Lamborghini continues the car motif, and he's asking, who's going to stop me from spending my money so recklessly? Who's going to stop me from driving these sports cars, these toys, so recklessly? At the same time, Keem could also be talking about a woman's body, and in this sense, he's asking, who's going to stop me from sleeping with a bunch of women? because, as he said, he's too wild. This gives way to the final lines which present two back-to-back dichotomies, function at the temple, Jesus' pieces, and the luau.

This creates a full-circle moment. Recall Keem's feature began with back-to-back dichotomies, where he described how the innocence of his childhood was tainted by the sin of the adults around him. Keeme began the mummer strung out while you studied division. Keem began the verse describing the disjunction of his childhood and now ends the verse describing the disjunction of his current day. A party or function at a temple or place of spiritual worship, and a diamond Jesus piece or pendant worn at a luau, another word for party or function.

It's also likely that the peace doubles for a gun, similar to the 30 kept in the purse from earlier in the verse. This closing couplet is Baby Keem's two wild lifestyle. He's prioritizing parties over spiritual guidance, Jesus pieces or material possessions over Jesus himself. Alternatively, we can also interpret it as describing Keem's own dichotomous nature, someone who is both spiritual and ratchet, reflecting exactly the dual meaning of rich spirit. Like both Kodak and Kendrick, Keem is experiencing the tension between being rich financially and spiritually. He's also experiencing the way his new lifestyle has the ability to devour his spirit if he's not careful, if he's unable to navigate it correctly. Indeed, over the course of Savior Interlude, we've heard Baby Keem's intuition

to spend his money recklessly and exploit his fame to womanize, the very vices Kendrick described falling victim to throughout Mr. Moral, vices that were also reflected in Kodak Black's features. At the same time, just like Kodak and Kendrick, Keem also shared the traumatic circumstances of his childhood, and as totally suggested at the beginning of the track, this baggage is carried into adulthood and has made all three men predisposed to the same vulnerabilities. These vulnerabilities become magnified when suddenly they have money, power, and influence at an incredibly young age without any role models to help them. Kodak and Keem had no father figures, nor were they raised with any spiritual or religious guidance. As Kodak said on Rich

Interlude, a bunch of lost souls and survival mode. It wasn't no way for us unless we found our own. Thus, Baby Keme's final words on Savior Interlude are essentially a plea, a cry for help, as he calls out into the void for Mr. Moral. Keem and Kodak are looking for moral and spiritual direction. They're looking for a father and the father. They are looking for his savior. Kendrick made you think about it, but he is not your savior. Cole made you feel in power, but he is not your savior.

Of course, this is Mr. Moral on the Big Stepper's next track, Savior. A song will examine note by note, line by line, next time on Dissect. If you enjoyed today's episode, please leave a comment, share with a friend, or post about Dysect on social media. It all really helps. You can also support the show by purchasing limited season 13 merchandise at Dysectpodcast.com. All right, thanks, everyone. Talk to you next week.