Walking into the Rolling Loud festival, I was hoping to find 60,000 kids who spend their spare time uploading Playboi Carti leaks to YouTube. But as I entered Queens’ Citi Field on Saturday, I was met with the NYPD gripping their automatic weapons and five older men holding blown-up posters of Brooklyn rapper Sheff G’s debut mixtape cover art. “Sheff G should be here,” yelled one of the men, as a growing crowd of teenagers in Astroworld T-shirts and faux-vintage basketball jerseys shuffled past them.

The night before, the NYPD had sent the festival a request that the rappers Pop Smoke, 22Gz, Sheff G, Casanova, and Don Q be removed from the lineup. The reason delivered by cops was that the inclusion of the five New York City rappers would lead to a “higher risk of violence.” To some, it was surprising that these artists were being treated like terrorists, but in the wake of a 2016 shooting by rapper Troy Ave at Irving Plaza and the ongoing Tekashi 6ix9ine case, the NYPD has all the ammunition they need to once again make rap music a scapegoat for the city’s crime. Of course, Rolling Loud gave in to the requests; founder Tariq Cherif tweeted that they had no choice.

In spite of what felt like a capitulation to corporate concerns, I was excited about this year’s Rolling Loud. Typically, music festivals handle rap like it’s an afterthought, but for the New York stop of this touring rap fest the only criteria to be booked seems to involve reaching 100,000 SoundCloud plays and proving that you were once gifted a free Vlone T-shirt by an A$AP affiliate. Despite the Rocky clones, the lineup featured a string of rap’s best crooners like A Boogie, Gunna, and Lil Keed.

Outside the gates, I caught a whiff of Sour Apple Four Loko and followed that scent to the festival grounds. Once through security, I came across a group of kids jogging to the merch area. Scanning the line, everyone seemed to be in a uniform: T-shirts from Travis Scott’s Look Mom I Can Fly documentary, cargo and camo joggers, knockoff Balmain jeans, checkerboard Vans, Yeezy 350 boosts, fresh fades, and pigtails. I darted from that scene and headed toward the music.

I arrived at the the Dryp Stage in time to see Young Thug prodigy Lil Keed, who began with the JetsonMade-produced “It’s Up Freestyle.” Next to me, a girl in a neon jumpsuit and muddy white Air Force Ones was reciting every word. “Keed is so good,” I said to her, as the ATL rapper’s DJ delivered a monologue. “Oh, that’s his name?” she asked, taking a sip of Red Four Loko. “I just know that song from TikTok.”