When I met Trina for the first time last year, I played it cool. I was meeting her in a semi-professional capacity and wanted to leave a good impression. But on the inside, I was bubbling with so much admiration and gratitude that I could have burst into tears at any moment. I was only 10 years old when she made her debut on Trick Daddy’s 1998 single “Nann N*gga.” It wasn’t long after — thanks to constant radio play and the older cousins and friends of friends who played me the unedited version — that I knew every word of her now-iconic verse. It was a defining moment for me. Even as a pre-teen Black girl without the internet to give me an early introduction to the workings of misogyny, I knew that there was liberation in Trina’s unapologetic approach. During a time in my life where the only messages I got about female pleasure were stigmatizing, shaming, or attempts at erasure, Trina offered an alternative as she explicitly embraced her own sexuality. Her combative tone with Trick on the track affirmed that I could speak my mind, even if someone didn’t like it. As I continued to listen to her music — and other female rappers during the ‘90s and ‘00s such as Lil Kim, Foxy Brown, Jackie O, and Khia — I realized that there really are two kinds of women in this world: The women who do what is expected of them and the women who do what they want. Falling in love with the work of female rappers through my teens and into adulthood have helped me choose to be the latter, over and over again.