Steve 'Flash' JuonTenina Stevens b/k/a Suga T was ahead of her time. Yes, there were hard female rappers in the early 1990’s — Yolanda “Yo-Yo” Whitaker, the late Bo$$ (Lichelle Laws), and Heather B just to name a few. Unfortunately female rappers were a minority of the rap game to begin with, and ones with the swagger and bravado of their male contemporaries were an even smaller subset. I heard it over and over again from my peers at the time. “I don’t like hearing girls rap.” “Their voices are too high pitched.” “Why are they rapping instead of dancing?” It was unapologetically misogynistic. Suga T was having NONE OF THAT BS on her debut album “It’s All Good.”
If you know her history songs like “I Ain’t to Be Fucked With” aren’t a surprise. She’s the sister of Earl “E-40” Stevens and one fourth of legendary rap group The Click. The success of their crew quickly blew up beyond California and started banging nationally, which led her big brother E to sign a distribution deal for their Sick Wid It label with Jive Records. Unfortunately said deal came too late for the release of “It’s All Good,” meaning this album has been largely overshadowed by the rest of her family’s catalogue. That was inevitable given that E-40 quickly became a SUPERSTAR thanks to his inventive flow, creative slang and oversized personality. Still when you hear the familiar samples of the Commodores and Ohio Players on “Check Ya Self” it’s clear that in ’93 they were on equal footing.
In fact the entire album is produced by Studio Ton, who also produced the entirety of E-40’s debut album “Federal.” You see what I’m saying? At least in Vallejo or the Bay Area they were on equal footing, not just as members of The Click but as rap stars of that scene. There’s good news and bad news about this scenario. The good news is we never had a Busta Rhymes style blowout like what happened with Leaders of the New School, where the rising star had an acrimonious breakup with his crew. The Click are a literal family where blood runs thicker than water. The bad news is that songs like “Billy Bad Ass” weren’t going to make her a bigger star than her brother.
It’s a strange choice for a single. The Studio Ton production is solid, and Suga T’s story of a poseur who “thought he had game but he was lame” is strong, but as I’m listening to it I can’t picture it getting either radio play or video rotation in its era. That’s why I say Suga T was ahead of her time. These days female rappers who spit hard bars are the norm and not the exception. She’d fit right in next to GloRilla, Megan Thee Stallion and JT without breaking a sweat. “Back Stabbers” sounds better in 2025 than it did in 1993. “When it comes to funk, you’re a punk.” Her sass is up to par and her rapid fire flow is well matched by her regional accent. Remember she’s the one who taught you to say MAYNE instead of “man” on songs like E-40’s “Sprinkle Me.”
That also brings up a curious issue about “It’s All Good,” one that I’m sure only matters to me and no one else — whether or not Suga T’s name is hyphenated. By the time of her appearance on “Sprinkle Me” it definitely is, but early in her career and on her solo debut, it is definitely NOT. You don’t have to take my word for it, you can just look at the cover art accompanying this review, and/or click on any link to the album’s title throughout. Frankly it doesn’t matter if you’re alphabetizing your collection because you’re going to ignore the hyphen but it’s as puzzling to me as when Jay-Z dropped it from his. I like consistency to the point I sometimes think I’m on the spectrum, but self-diagnosis is always a bad idea. This album isn’t a bad idea. It’s just that Tenina was too early to the bad bitch breakthrough.