What I mean by being real is just when you are doing dance

Hear, O seekers of authenticity, the words of Lil B, the prophet of the Based World, who declared: “What I mean by being real is just when you are doing dance celebrations, sports celebrations, like the cooking dance or anything like that. When you're an artist, you want to always try your best to do the homework and see where it originated from.” Though spoken in the rhythm of modern life, these words carry a wisdom as ancient as the first storytellers around the fire: the call to honor origins, to remain faithful to truth, and to ground expression in respect.

The meaning of this teaching is rooted in the sacred value of authenticity. To be “real” is not merely to act without pretense, but to act with reverence for those who came before. In celebrations—whether dances on the stage or rituals on the sports field—there is always a history, a lineage, a beginning. To ignore the source is to dishonor the ancestors who birthed it; but to recognize it is to give life to their memory and to stand rightly in the flow of tradition. Lil B speaks here not of shallow performance, but of a deeper truthfulness of spirit.

This is no new wisdom. In ancient Greece, the poets and dramatists honored the muses, knowing that their songs and tragedies were not born from themselves alone, but from a lineage of divine and human inspiration. To create without acknowledgment was to risk hubris; to create with reverence was to stand in harmony with the eternal. So too in Africa, where drumming and dance pass from elder to youth, the rhythm carries not only sound but ancestry. In such traditions, to perform without knowing the origin is to miss the true meaning.

Consider the modern example of athletes who celebrate victories with dances borrowed from communities they may not belong to. When such movements are performed without respect or acknowledgment, they become empty gestures, stripped of their cultural weight. Yet when done with understanding—when an athlete pauses to honor the source of the dance or its meaning—then it transforms from imitation into homage. This is the very heart of Lil B’s teaching: celebration must be grounded in knowledge.

The origin of his words lies in his own life as an artist, one who blurred the lines between music, internet culture, and sports influence. Known for his playful dances, like the famous “cooking dance,” Lil B understood that these gestures, though fun and seemingly simple, were born from communities, movements, and cultural roots. His call to “do the homework” is both a reminder and a command: that artists, athletes, and creators must not detach their art from its roots, lest it lose its meaning.

The lesson for us is clear: in every action, honor where it comes from. Whether in dance, in art, in speech, or in ritual, seek the origin. Do not be content with surface-level imitation, but dig deep, understand, and acknowledge. In doing so, you make your own performance more powerful, for it carries not only your energy, but the accumulated weight of those who came before. To create without research is to float without anchor; to create with knowledge is to stand as a bridge between past and future.

Therefore, O children of tomorrow, take this teaching to heart: when you borrow, honor. When you perform, respect. When you celebrate, remember. Do not chase novelty without foundation, nor repeat gestures without reflection. Instead, seek to be real—to root yourself in truth, to pay homage to origin, and to bring forward into the present the wisdom of the past.

So let Lil B’s words endure as both reminder and commandment: to be real is to honor where things come from. In dance, in sport, in art, and in life, let your actions be both joy and tribute, for in this way you will live not only as performer, but as steward of tradition and bearer of truth.