Few things in pop are more dangerous that invoking the ire of the Swifties. (Just ask Jack White.) Bruno Mars appears to know this so well, he had to step in to quell any potential furor sparked by a likely fake bait post that proclaimed to show him dissing his fellow pop superstar.
The brouhaha bubbled up in a far-flung corner of the stan internet last Friday, when an account called Pop Faction claimed to have evidence of Mars liking a post calling Taylor Swift “talentless.” The original post didn’t really gain that much traction, but over on X, where outrage reigns supreme, an aggregation by an account called PopFlop racked up over 11,000 likes.
It was here that Mars felt compelled to set the record straight, stating in the replies: “Taylor has always been supportive and kind to me. Only love over here. ❤️.”
Now, some might see this and decide, “That’s good enough for me, no need to look into this further or think about it ever again.” And this would be valid. Ignorance is bliss, after all. Others, however, might think to themselves, “Wait a minute, Mars didn’t actually deny liking such a post.”
And to those curious souls, we say: Let us now descend into the wilderness of mirrors that is the online pop-stan, rage-bait engagement economy — where what’s fake is real, what’s real is fake, where truth is fiction, and fiction may just contain an element of truth. It’s where the only thing that matters, at the end of the day, is riling up enough people so that someone can make a couple hundred bucks off this slop from clicks, views, and comments.
Upon initial closer inspection, the whole thing certainly seems like a haphazard hoax. The original “offending” post calling Swift “talentless” was credited to the official BTS X account. Obviously, the pop group shared no such thing. And if they did, that probably would have been way more inflammatory than Mars giving it a like. (As several extremely online heads pointed out, too, the “talentless” post was actually repurposed from a completely different pop stan account that was actually criticizing Swift.)
But the whole thing gets a little funky — and possibly verges on Pepe Silvia territory — thanks to a piece of evidence proffered by the fine folks at PopFlop. As they noted in the replies to their own aggregation, the post with the BTS branding was obviously bogus, but it was originally shared not by Pop Faction, but a third account called BopBase (self-described as “your best source for all parody culture related entertainment”).
It was a BopBase Instagram Reel, which contained the fake “talentless” post, which Mars allegedly liked. And a screen-recorded video shared by PopFlop does appear to lend some credence to this theory, enough for them to declare that Mars’ allegedly incriminating like is “real and verified.”
Rolling Stone, however, could not — alas — do the same. As of this morning, March 16, in the year of our Lord 2026, the Instagram account for BopBase has been mysteriously deactivated.
Obviously, it goes without saying that, what with everything else going on in the world, this is the definitive story of the day, if not week, or month, or perhaps even year. Only time will tell. Either way, we promise to stay on this beat until the case is cracked and all guilty parties are vanquished to the Khia Asylum. If you have any information that might help us solve “The Mystery of Did Bruno Mars Throw Shade at Taylor Swift?” please reach out to tips@rollingstone.com.












Ringo Starr reunited with producer T Bone Burnett for ‘Long Long Road.’ Photo: Scott Ritchie*
Mottola (shown here in 2020) and Epstein’s friendship lasted through the convicted sex offender’s final days.Jon Kopaloff/Getty Images
United States Department of Justice
Michael Jackson (in 2002) accused Mottola of exploitative business practices and once called him “a devil.”Evan Agostini/ImageDirect/Getty Images
Mottola with then-wife Mariah Carey in 1995. He admitted to being controlling and “obsessive” during their marriage.Rose Hartman/Archive Photos/Getty Images
United States Department of Justice

Tupac Shakur at the Club USA in New York City, New York, 1994.
Prosecutors Put Rap Lyrics on Trial. Maryland Is About to Shut It Down
“I’m Gucci. It’s a rap. F**k [can they do] about a rap?”
Those are the words of Lawrence Montague on a jail phone call, words that now sit at the center of a broader legal reckoning unfolding in Maryland over the use of rap lyrics as evidence in criminal proceedings.
Maryland prosecutors introduced Montague’s rap verse, recorded using a jailhouse telephone and later posted to Instagram as evidence of his guilt for the killing of George Forrester. In December 2020, Maryland’s highest Court ruled in Montague vs. Maryland that rap lyrics can be admitted in court as evidence of a defendant’s guilt. The Court’s treatment of the genre as inherently violent reflects a deeply flawed and biased assumption, and Montague was ultimately convicted and sentenced to fifty years.
On appeal, the state’s highest court affirmed Montague’s conviction, finding that Montague’s lyrics made it more probable that he shot and killed Forrester. In doing so, the Court embraced the very kind of bias the legal system is supposed to guard against.
That ruling set a dangerous precedent, particularly for rap and hip-hop artists in America, and prompted Variety to publish our January 2021 opinion piece. What we didn’t realize at the time was that the article would help spark a national movement — now a united front of influential academics, defense and civil rights attorneys, and prominent music industry advocacy organizations including Songwriters of North America, the Black Music Action Coalition, The Recording Academy, and more. Together, we’ve partnered under a coalition known as Free Our Art, led by high-profile music executive Kevin Liles and co-chaired by me and Prophet. Over the past few years, the coalition has built a diverse and bipartisan group of allies, urging lawmakers to act. This week, in a full circle moment, Maryland became only the third state to pass a bill reconsidering how creative works are used in criminal trials. The bill now heads to the desk of Maryland Governor Wes Moore, who is widely expected to sign it into law.
When signed, Maryland’s Protecting Artists’ Creative Expression (PACE) Act will join California and Louisiana, which enacted similar laws in 2022 and 2023 following advocacy by BMAC, SONA and later Free Our Art. Critically, the legislation establishes clear standards for when creative works may be admitted as evidence in criminal proceedings.
This law addresses a growing concern among the music industry, legal scholars, and civil rights advocates, as rap lyrics have almost exclusively been used against Black and Brown artists in more than 820 cases since the 1980s. The PACE Act seeks to limit bias in the courtroom, reinforcing First Amendment protections that are frequently overlooked today. When signed into law, the legislation would limit the use of artistic expression as evidence to narrowly defined legal circumstances. Any creative expressions the government is looking to present as evidence must be presented to the judge before a jury trial even begins. These include instances where a defendant clearly intended the work to be taken literally, where it contains specific factual details tied to an alleged offense, where it is directly relevant to a disputed issue, and where its probative value outweighs any unfair prejudice.
Race has long shaped how rap lyrics are interpreted in the legal system. Courts have often misunderstood the history, purpose, and cultural significance of rap music in America, which emerged in the 1970s in the South Bronx as a response to poverty, unemployment, gang violence, isolation from mainstream America, and unfair treatment by government institutions. Courts are starting to correct the problem — overturning convictions where rap lyrics were wrongly used — but that’s not justice, that’s damage control. We need real protection on the front end. That’s why the PACE Act matters.
And the momentum is building: New York, Georgia, and Missouri legislatures are in discussions to pass laws to defend artistic freedom and draw the line.
Black artistry deserves the same legal protection as any other form of creative expression. Yet past rulings, including the Montague case in Maryland, have left Black artists exposed to bias rooted in misunderstanding — and too often, a refusal to engage with the culture itself. Research shows that rap, a predominantly Black genre, is more likely to be seen by jurors as more threatening, more dangerous, and grounded in reality. The result: Black expression is treated as evidence of criminality, while white artists in other genres such as country music exploring similar themes are afforded creative freedom. In court, slang, generic references, and race can unfairly prejudice juries far beyond their actual probative value.
Artists such as Tupac Shakur, Public Enemy, N.W.A, and Kendrick Lamar have long used hip-hop to tell stories and challenge injustice. That tradition is central to the genre and should not be mistaken for confession. Black artists deserve the opportunity to express fear and anger and process trauma and lived experiences without that expression being used against them in court. That distinction is exactly what this legislation seeks to protect.
With the PACE Act now moving through the final stages of approval, Maryland has an opportunity to correct a longstanding imbalance in the legal system. If signed into law, it will set a clear standard — one that other states should follow.
Dina LaPolt is an entertainment attorney, activist, and co-founder of the Songwriters of North America; and Willie “Prophet” Stiggers is the chairman and CEO of the Black Music Action Coalition. Special thanks to Loyola Law School student Kayla Ruff.