Let’s use our imaginations, shall we? You’re dancing at the hottest nightclub in town. The room is vast and you’d never know by that matte black paint hiding the nasty sticky stains. Neon lights flutter over the sea of drunkards, making them look like faceless yet seductive sirens. The puppet-master DJ commands the crowd as they swish into the next track smoothly, and you hear, “I stood on the corner and shook my shit. Now I'm finna give y'all another hit.” High-pitched girly screams pierce the room; the floor rumbles as everyone prepares to throw some ass. It's kind of like an IUD insertion, there's long buildup before it snaps into place.

We're gonna spread that puss, yeah, spread that puss
We're gonna spread that puss, baby, spread the puss
We're gonna spread that puss, yeah, spread that puss
We're gonna spread that puss, baby, spread the puss
We're gonna spread that puss, yeah, spread that puss
We're gonna spread that puss, baby, spread the puss
We're gonna spread that puss, yeah, spread that puss

– Ayesha Erotica(2022)

That, my friends, is the power of Ayesha Erotica. Ms. Erotica is an iconic enigma, but if you need some facts, she’s a transwoman adorned in a velvety pink juicy couture tracksuit and an “underground” rapper, producer, and singer. As most eighteen-year-olds do, she released her first set of self-produced singles, “Can I Get a Bump?” on SoundCloud in 2015. Jumpstarting her independent career, her work is available almost exclusively on free-use platforms, the aforementioned SoundCloud, Spotify, and Youtube.

Coincidentally, this is the time when social media apps like Musical.ly and TikTok began to brew. The popularity of lip-syncing or dancing to a popular audio clip is a huge phenomenon. Maybe inside Ayesha’s creative womb, she asexually reproduced her golden album on April 20th, 2016, Big Juicy, which featured some of her most iconic songs. Songs like "Make U Cum," "Emo Boy," "Sixteen," and three songs with titles referring to some type of cocaine use. The album cemented her aesthetic as a Y2K slut, as she is always adorned with a jet-black scene emo haircut along with some beautiful, wonderful, classic knee-high converse. Her sound establishes itself as highly vulgar and hyper-computerized; she awakens our inner cuntiness, including you, too, boys, with her siren voice.

Between 2016 and 2018, Ayesha released her second album, Barely Legal, and her EP Cumshot. As her fans grew, she got what all wild artists in our culture get: doxed! The Puritan crusade came after her true identity, killing her artist-constructed persona. Though she never explicitly alluded to her transness; it was clear in the songs. The leaking doxers released her deadname and personal information, including her address. Part of her allure was the mystery, which allowed you to participate purely in the aesthetic effect of the music. Then, in what can only be described as “dog-piling,” large numbers of her demos and unreleased tracks circulated without her consent.

The charges were numerous: offensive lyrics, racial slurs, rumors of blackface, and the general crime of cultural insensitivity. It’s important to note that a lot of these accusations weren’t true and that opens up a much larger, more nuanced conversation. Many of her fans don’t know her ethnicity or her gender; all they see is a white-passing woman. So when that woman drops plenty of songs using queer slurs and hispanic cultural references—shoutouts to the cochinos—it’s real easy to snowball the accusations. As a dedicated fan, I did an archival research through many reddit threads and the goal seemed to be to destroy the woman rather than any serious concerns of accountability.

Facing this combination of harassment, exploitation, and backlash, she chose to remove her music from major platforms and stepped away from being Ayesha Erotica. And yet starting in October of 2021, it seemed as if one of Erotica’s songs would blow up every month on TikTok. While Erotica deleted her official accounts, fans were unofficially uploading and streaming millions of her songs on Spotify and Youtube. You couldn’t think of a better type of cancelling.

Part of what made Ayesha Ayesha was her lack of identity. She was nothing more than an icon, a cunt, a coke whore. So, sprinkle in borderline black market exclusive music and you're cooking with gas. Users started uploading her music—I'm talking about a full-on mp3 as a podcast episode on Spotify—so that it wouldn’t be flagged. Youtube videos are trickier, and so people chose to upload full albums as one huge video. Of course, Youtube took all these files down—and then the Eroticas reuploaded them—and then Youtube took them down again. Like I said before, there's nothing like censorship to launch a career.

For the initiated, "Yummy" is close to sacred scripture and it’s been used in so many cunty Instagram stories that it’s impossible to censor. I’m going to try to break down the most quoted section in social media.

Tummy full of edible gummies, I'm feeling yummy
Juicy tracksuit whenever I'm feeling bummy
Big heels, got the Pleasers, I'm pleasing 'em, something funny
Baby Phat jizz rag whenever he's feeling cummy – Ayesha Erotica (2018)

Imagine about twenty thousand girls in juicy velvet tracksuits lip-syncing in a TikTok. And suddenly, jizz, cum, and edible gummies slip away — we only engage in the one line, "Juicy tracksuit whenever I'm feeling bummy” as the other words are mimed.

Yeah, he love me, but he fucks me like he hates my guts
He hit the spot to make me squirt and let me paint his nuts
He paid me right then, right there when he bust
I'm a fake bitch, so I'm paying him dust
I do it for the girls and the gays, that's it
The queens and the queers, yeah, they loving my shit
Yeah, shout the fuck out to the girls with thebig-ass lips
girls with the big-ass dicks, stay up. – Ayesha Erotica (2018)

When these beautiful words flow into your ears as you’re walking down the street, you suddenly start to swish your hips and plant your feet into the ground as if you were wearing 6-inch red-bottom stilettos. The music under the lyrics is punching the words out to you and just you, especially as she puts more grime into her emphasis on the triplet coupling "guts," "nuts," and "bust." But more importantly, she’s expressing what she stands for. While never explicitly taking on a trans identity, you can’t miss it. There are references to Amanda Lepore and, obviously, the girls with the big-ass dicks. This is a United Nations of sexual outlaws. And not just the common alliance between the girls and the gays, but the whole LGBTQIA+! United by Cuntiness. But then again it’s just a song, and yet Erotica’s so appealing that her messages raced past her. Of course, that’s always a worry and the many controversies surrounding her, and especially the racial allegations, we don’t see a lady with much class. But then did she ever? Have class, I mean, and then, more radically, who exactly is she? Mysteries abound when a young woman puts on sheild shades and lights a cigarette at a gas stove, washing the smoke down with a Modelo and wearing the shortest skirt you can imagine, so short that when she bends down, her pink-pantied "puss" bulges out.

In recent years, Erotica has made a full return to music and online life, solidifying her comeback in 2024 and 2025. After years of near-total silence, she reappeared on social media, began posting her face again, and confirmed her return during livestreams with creators like Chase Icon—another trans slut pop artist. Her comeback included the release of new singles and collaborations—most notably the track "Condom" in February 2025 and her album Precum on August 11, 2025, which marked her first major body of work since 2021. Fans have noted that her sound has evolved—still provocative and tongue-in-cheek, but with sharper production and hints of rock and experimental pop. Alongside her music revival, Erotica has reestablished her public persona, engaging with fans through posts, teasers, and livestreams that mix humor, self-awareness, and her trademark attitude—her 2025 reappearance was a banner moment for internet pop culture and the real diva soldiers working the real grunt jobs. Finally, finally, we can serve again!

And I don’t know what we, the human species, would have done without the second coming of Erotica, cause as of 2025, the world is shit. There is no concern or care for the fellow human, the wild animals, or the precious Earth. There is no care for poor people, for people of color, for disabled people, for gay people, for trans people, for people with uteruses, or for women or men. We are miserable. We can’t date without all the toxicity and the ghosting; if you date men, you’re probably aware of the new misogyny coming out of their sassy-ass minds. Though the patriarchy affects them too, I guess. We can’t live in comfort; we are forced to choose between something to eat or a place to live—because, you know, you can only afford one, truly.

Let’s imagine you’re a 20-something. One night, after your eight-hour minimum-wage shift, you make your way home by bus. You can finally sit for a short while; you can finally rest your weary feet. You put your earbuds on one by one, the world tuning out, and the bass blasts in your ears and cues the inner Victoria Secret model inside all our hearts to strut that shit:

When I'm in the club (yeah)
They'd be tryna fuck (ooh)
They all know what's up (what's up?
I'm Miss Superpuss (superpuss, baby)
They know my name (ha-ha-ha)
Put you up on game (yeah, baby)
And she's off cocaine I'm Miss Superpuss.—Ayesha Erotica (2024)

And your feet begin to swing as the bus powers on. The rhythm of the song engages your hips, making them rotate and grind on the seat in a subtle manner so as not to disturb the other passengers. And in the music-induced trance, you’re recreating the scene from Silence of the Lambs when Buffalo Bill tucks it inbetween his legs and says to his reflection, "Would you fuck me? I'd fuck myself. I'd fuck myself so hard." And suddenly, I’m not thinking about my body. I’m not thinking about my uterus and how the US infringes upon it. I’m not thinking about my fat cladding me, preparing me for famine; I’m ignoring the man shouting from the car; he could call me a fat bitch, a bad bitch, or just a bitch--hey, it's all okay, fella. I’m ignoring the flaws or shortcomings of my life and the world turns off for five fucking minutes.

Erotica and the Erotic

The erotic has no identity; it has no construct of gender or social rules to abide by. The physical act of sex doesn’t have to be realized, but it should be alluded to. That’s how you escape, how Erotica did and still does—whether in a sensual, soft manner or in a vulgar, hold-no-punches kind of way. The act of sexuality allows us to be free, to be open, to be more than our identity categories, and that lets us transcend both our shared and individual realities.

Ayesha Erotica is this concept; she has no identity, no depth for the public to pick apart and consume. She only pushes that one feeling into the world, and it's our choice to accept it or not. As much as it might make your skin crawl, loosen your tie, mess up you hair and do a little sexy dance. Sexuality and eroticism are a part of human nature—the same as dancing, art, food, alcohol, and music. These things are full of complex yet such simple emotions that we all should participate. The United States is falling into puritanical conservatism even though all those bitches are sexual deviants. If we continue to do these things in secret…like on a private island…our world will only be more corrupt, and sex will continue to be weaponized. Ayesha Erotica chooses to be outspoken about her sexuality, her body, and her art. Even with her canceling or her doxxing, she still refuses to be silent, moving full force into a new studio album.

From her newest song, "WHORE IDOL," the chorus repeats:

Have you ever seen a star drop? (Star drop)
On the bed, you've dreamed about me every night
Now I'm here, and I'm begging you for hard cock (uh)
Cause I read online you’d kill to turn your idol to a whore.

— Ayesha Erotica (2025)

Categories

MUSIC

AYESHA EROTICA CITY

coming to a town near you

By Gabrielle Kedziora

Erotica and the Erotic

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