In the high-stakes arena of hip-hop, where alliances shift like beats in a remix, few rivalries burn as bright as the one brewing between Nicki Minaj and the Carter empire. What started as a financial grievance over the music streaming service Tidal has snowballed into a full-blown saga of accusations, shady social media posts, and whispers of supernatural retaliation. At the heart of it all: Minaj’s claim that Jay-Z owes her a staggering $200 million from her stake in the platform, a dispute that’s pulled in Beyoncé’s family and sparked wild theories about African voodoo. As fans dissect every tweet and Instagram story, this drama isn’t just entertainment—it’s a raw look at power, loyalty, and the cost of speaking out in an industry built on secrets.

The roots of this conflict trace back to 2015, when Jay-Z launched Tidal as a artist-owned alternative to mainstream streamers like Spotify. He rallied heavy hitters—Minaj, Rihanna, Alicia Keys, and more—to invest, promising higher royalties and equity stakes to empower creators. Minaj, then at the peak of her Pinkprint era, jumped in, promoting the service and believing in its mission. But fast-forward to 2021, when Jay-Z sold Tidal to Block (formerly Square) for $300 million. According to Minaj’s recent outpouring, that windfall never trickled down to her. She alleges her promised 3% stake should have netted her between $100 million and $200 million, but instead, she got zilch.

In a fiery July 2025 Twitter storm, Minaj laid it bare: “Y’all can talk about Tidal until you’re blue in the face. Chi, y’all massa know Tidal is the least of his worries.” She accused Jay-Z and Roc Nation of using “scared tactics and manipulation” to withhold her earnings, offering a paltry $1 million tied to an NDA she refused. “I’m so glad I said nope,” she wrote, calling out the “snake” behavior of exploiting her work without fair compensation. Minaj didn’t stop at finances; she tied it to broader grievances, suggesting Roc Nation’s hand in pushing rivals like Megan Thee Stallion against her, turning personal beefs into professional sabotage.

The response from Jay-Z’s camp? Crickets, mostly. But Steve Stoute, a music exec linked to the Tidal era, chimed in during a podcast, claiming Minaj never signed the necessary paperwork, leaving “millions on the table.” Minaj fired back, questioning the ethics: “While I was working for the company, they let me work with nothing signed… So now you’ve admitted to fraudulent tactics?” Her fans, the Barbz, rallied, flooding social media with demands for justice and memes roasting the billionaire’s alleged penny-pinching.

Enter the Knowles clan, Beyoncé’s fierce protectors, who seemed to interpret Minaj’s jabs as indirect shots at the queen herself. Tina Knowles, the matriarch known for her unfiltered wisdom, posted an Instagram photo with Beyoncé in July 2025, captioned: “Good morning. It feels good to wake up knowing my faves didn’t lose their minds like some people. Y’all have a great day. Remember to ignore the ignorance.” The timing—hot on the heels of Minaj’s Tidal tirade—set the internet ablaze. Fans saw it as shade, with one commenting, “Mama Tina entering the chat!” The Barbz unleashed, accusing Tina of gaslighting. Within hours, she edited the caption multiple times, finally settling on: “Wow, I reposted this because it was talking about our relationship. It had nothing to do with anyone other than me and Beyoncé. Please stop being messy… You guys should be ashamed.”

But it was Solange Knowles, Beyoncé’s younger sister and a force in her own right, who took the drama to mystical heights. Amid the feud, Solange shared Instagram photos of her altar—candles, crystals, idols—evoking African spirituality. She turned off comments, a move that screamed intentionality. Online sleuths connected the dots: Minaj’s disses, Solange’s history of defending Bey (remember the 2014 elevator brawl with Jay-Z?), and now this “voodoo” setup. “Solange summoning the ancestors after Nicki came for Bey and Jay,” one viral tweet joked, while others speculated it was a ritual to “wreck” Minaj’s life. Solange, known for her deep dives into Black heritage and spirituality, didn’t address the rumors directly, but the post’s timing fueled the fire.

Minaj didn’t let it slide. During a July 2025 Stationhead livestream, she played “Feeling Myself,” her 2015 collab with Beyoncé, while dropping a disclaimer: “Just because I play a song that I happen to be featured on don’t mean… see kick right in my throat.” Fans heard shade loud and clear—Minaj distancing herself from Beyoncé amid the chaos. It wasn’t her first subtle jab; earlier tweets called out “fake queens and soulless idols,” interpreted as digs at Bey’s pristine image.

The public? Divided and obsessed. Barbz hailed Minaj as a truth-teller, exposing industry snakes: “Nicki fighting for what’s hers while they hide behind NDAs.” Beyhive countered, defending the Carters as philanthropists wronged by bitterness. One commenter quipped, “If Solange’s voodoo is real, Nicki better grab her rosary.” Others dismissed the spiritual angle as cultural insensitivity, noting Solange’s posts reflect her artistic exploration of ancestry, not curses.

This feud taps into deeper themes: Black women’s voices in music, where Minaj’s unapologetic fire clashes with Beyoncé’s polished empire. Minaj’s accusations highlight inequities—artists exploited by moguls they trusted. Roc Nation’s silence only amplifies the drama, leaving room for speculation. As Minaj teases more revelations—”Meet me back at this post a year from now”—the saga feels far from over.

In an industry where loyalty is currency, this clash reminds us fame’s price. Minaj, queen of clapbacks, stands her ground; the Knowles, guardians of legacy, protect fiercely. Whether voodoo vibes or verbal volleys, it’s a reminder: mess with one, face the family. As fans watch, one thing’s clear—hip-hop’s throne room just got messier.