Introduction
In the summer of 2025, Japan’s hip-hop scene was rattled when rapper NENE released a diss track titled “OWARI.” The target? Chanmina, one of Japan’s most commercially successful female artists, and her label BMSG. What started as a lyrical battle quickly evolved into a national conversation about authenticity, artistry, and the blurred line between pop and hip-hop. This nene beef revealed more than just personal rivalry—it exposed a long-standing tension in Japanese music.
A Shot Fired: NENE’s “OWARI”
NENE is known for raw lyricism and unfiltered energy. In “OWARI,” she accuses Chanmina of copying her visual style, mocking her lyrics, and relying on commercial backing to maintain relevance. The nene beef didn’t stop with just Chanmina—it extended to BMSG and its newly launched girl group HANA. NENE’s track contains pointed references to style theft, artificial imagery, and exploitation of hip-hop culture for pop gain.
The accompanying video shows scenes that mirror visuals from HANA’s recent music videos, implying that the group borrowed heavily from NENE’s fire-heavy aesthetic. The clearest nod comes when NENE reenacts a music video scene while standing in front of dozens of photos of herself—making it clear the nene beef wasn’t just about music, but identity.
Chanmina’s Silence
Chanmina, a Korean-Japanese artist known for her multilingual lyrics and genre-blending music, chose not to respond immediately. In a short Instagram Live, she downplayed the drama, saying she didn’t write the song in question and had only met NENE once. This calm response frustrated fans hoping for a lyrical comeback but aligned with Chanmina’s polished public image.
Her silence, however, didn’t end the nene beef. Instead, it sparked more debates across social media about what it means to “own” style or represent a culture—especially one as rooted in struggle and self-expression as hip-hop.
SKY-HI and the “0623 FreeStyle”
SKY-HI, the head of BMSG, stepped in to defend his artist and label with a freestyle of his own titled “0623 FreeStyle.” In it, he mocks NENE’s claims, flips the accusation of style theft, and turns her critique back on her. He questions her artistic consistency and even her political participation, with lines about voting and responsibility. His freestyle was less about bars and more about protecting his brand.
This only added fuel to the nene beef and brought more attention to the underlying issues—especially the difference in how the mainstream music industry and underground rap scene define success and authenticity.
The Old Question: Pop vs. Hip-Hop
The nene beef is just the latest in a long history of conflict between Japanese pop music and hip-hop. In 1994, EAST END x YURI’s “DA.YO.NE” became a massive hit. But for Japan’s underground rappers, the song represented a watered-down, commercialized version of rap. One of Japan’s most respected rappers, ECD, criticized the track, arguing it ignored the deeper meaning and culture of hip-hop.
Similar tensions flared in the late 2000s when Seeda and OKI called out the TERIYAKI BOYZ for selling out. More recently, BAD HOP and Namedaruma exchanged words over authenticity. Now, the nene beef continues this legacy—especially as Chanmina represents a hybrid pop-rap aesthetic while NENE defends hip-hop as a cultural movement, not just a sound.
Visual Style or Cultural Theft?
A huge part of this nene beef centers on visuals. NENE accuses Chanmina and HANA of copying her iconic style—particularly the use of flames and dark, cinematic backdrops. While it’s common for artists to borrow imagery, the question becomes murky when one artist claims ownership over a look that’s rooted in personal experience and subculture.
NENE’s fans argue that Chanmina’s styling choices feel disingenuous, especially when used to market a group like HANA, created from a reality show with a pop production model. Chanmina’s supporters, meanwhile, see the imagery as part of a broader trend and not something anyone can claim exclusive rights to.
A Larger Cultural Debate
Underneath the nene beef is a serious question: Is Japan’s pop music industry appropriating hip-hop culture without respecting its roots? Hip-hop, born in struggle and resistance, isn’t just music—it’s a way of life. When major labels use its aesthetics and sound to sell pop acts, critics like NENE argue it dilutes the meaning.
At the same time, Japan’s music scene is becoming more hybrid. Artists like Creepy Nuts, JP THE WAVY, and even YOASOBI incorporate hip-hop rhythms or visuals into their mainstream work. Chanmina herself once explained that she doesn’t belong to just one genre. “This is J-pop, this is J-hip-hop…this is me,” she said in a past interview, highlighting the gray area she occupies.
The nene beef doesn’t have a simple answer—but it forces listeners to consider how culture, image, and commerce collide in modern music.
The Fans and the Fallout
Fans of both artists have taken sides, dissecting lyrics, visuals, and social media posts. Some claim NENE is overreacting, while others praise her for defending cultural integrity. On TikTok and YouTube, creators post side-by-side comparisons of outfits, video concepts, and bars, trying to prove who’s right.
This digital war zone illustrates how nene beef has gone beyond music—it’s become a full-blown cultural flashpoint.
What This Means for Japanese Music
The nene beef might influence how record labels and artists approach hip-hop aesthetics. We could see:
- More transparency around songwriting and visual direction
- Stronger crediting of creative collaborators
- An industry-wide reevaluation of what counts as hip-hop in Japan
As hip-hop continues to influence J-pop, more artists will be forced to decide: are they respecting the culture, or just wearing it like a costume?

Final Thoughts
The nene beef between NENE and Chanmina is about more than just two artists—it’s about the future of Japanese music. It asks who gets to define what hip-hop is, and whether commercial success should come at the cost of cultural authenticity.
As the scene evolves, beefs like this will likely continue—but they also serve as reminders. Hip-hop isn’t just a beat or a trend. It’s a voice, a history, and a community. And whether you’re on NENE’s side or Chanmina’s, one thing is clear: Japan’s hip-hop scene is alive, complex, and ready to be heard.