What was it about Chief Keef that resonated with you?

Growing up in a household with your whole family, that shit was struggle. I knew there was kids out there living better than me, and I would go out and niggas would be talking shit about you and how you live in that struggle. As a kid, the only way to get through that is to get money by any means necessary. All you can think is, “Damn I want what he have.” And with Chief Keef you could tell he grew up in that same mindset.

Is Keef what made you want to rap?

Partially. But when I was like 16, in the gang, certain people were already rapping. It wasn’t popular or anything, mostly just freestyling to each other. It wasn’t until one day I found out about a studio—I had no idea what that was or how to get there. But when I found out I knew this was a way for people in the hood to know us, I wasn’t thinking about nothing else.

“No Suburban” was one of the first songs you made. What happened when that dropped?

I got my homie to shoot the video for me, right on the block, and I put the preview on Facebook and it was blowing up. Niggas was cutting my ass, joking about my deep voice, but there was also people saying it was heat. When I put it on YouTube I was just sitting there waiting for the views to go up, and every time I refreshed it, they was higher. In almost two weeks I was at half a million and I couldn’t believe it. All of a sudden I would go outside and people would ask for pictures and I didn’t know how to react. It got so big that when I was sleeping I would hear it playing out the window and eventually couldn’t even take the train no more. And I was tight because I needed the train and my normal routes to get to probation.

How did you end up on probation?

It’s always because of KP [King’s Plaza]. One day I went to KP, where everyone goes to fight, but I wasn’t tryna fight that day. So I’m chilling and a group of niggas walk past and say something to me. I say something back, but they walk away. Soon they come back deep, with like 12 or 13 niggas. I’m just standing there telling them I’m not fighting today and they’re not listening. They started following me to the back of KP while I was walking away, and I was tight so I just pulled out the grip and started aiming at these niggas. But what I didn’t know was the police was right across the street. They see me, I see them, and I’m like, “Oh shit.” I didn’t even run or nothing, just tossed the grip on the floor and walked over to them. I already knew I was going to do time, so it was whatever. I copped up to that, and they gave me probation.

You talk about a situation like that so nonchalantly. I feel that’s something you have in common with a lot of Chicago drill rappers.

Yeah, because it’s the life we’re used to. Some people say Brooklyn drill music is us copying Chicago, but really drill is an expression of this life and everything you’re living. It’s about how you grew up and how that life has made you, it’s what people connect to.

Do you think Brooklyn has carried on the spirit that made Chicago drill represent a generation?

I ask myself if we doing that every day because now there’s so much fraud shit going on. The hood ain’t the same no more. People talking about drilling who aren’t really drilling, and it not only ruins the credibility, but makes the music not hit the same way. Like how can you make drill music if that feeling is gone? Personally, I’m still making drill, it just look better, and sound cleaner.

After “No Suburban” did you have a plan?

Bro, we was just some teenagers and didn’t know shit. It also didn’t help that in 2018 I had a major setback. I was just with the wrong people at the wrong time. I’m not allowed to talk about that, but for six months no music, no social media, nothing. Fans was saying I fell off and it was killing me because I wanted to put music out. But when I did come back I had “Panic Part 2” ready to go. We shot a video and wanted to return with a bang. I noticed that the UK was my second biggest fanbase, so I hit [UK drill YouTube channel] Pressplay about uploading the video there. Suddenly I was as big in the UK as I was in Brooklyn.

The “Panic Part 2” video is notable because that’s the first time you appear without your signature pigtail style braids.

Yeah, it wasn’t my choice though. When I was in probation, I thought someone was a fan, and turns out they weren’t. We was fighting and they sliced me on my head. I went to the hospital, and they cut off my hair to sew it up. It was the first time in my life I had a haircut. When it was sewed up I figured I would just keep it short and went to Sir Cruse’s YouTube page and in a week I had waves.

A week?! That would take me months!

[laughs] I got that good Trini hair. And when I dropped the first video back I was like, “I’m going to make the best of it.” So I took the durag off with a big reveal like, “Nothing can stop me.” That’s the type of attitude niggas is on.

Now that you’re back, do you think that your music is finally ready to reach outside of Brooklyn and the UK?

Brooklyn don’t get enough love in the world. And it should. I never realized that because, in my mind, I thought that Brooklyn was the world for so long, but now I know it’s bigger. Two years ago none of that mattered to me. I just wanted the respect in the hood. Now I’m thinking bigger and ready to show niggas that drill feeling.