Nav is surprisingly candid: When his 2018 album Reckless comes up, he tells me “it quickly settled in that I didn’t release that good of an album.” “One hater comment is cool, but they were piling up from my fans,” Nav says, taking a long drag of his blunt. “I had to take a couple of steps back and humble myself.”

He considers his recently released sophomore album Bad Habits to be a second chance. He returned to his producer roots, trying to recapture the lonely and drugged-out mood that lead Drake to grant him an OVO Sound Radio cosign years ago. “I booked a house in Vancouver, I had a chalkboard, and I told all the guys we need to get this shit right or the lifestyle, shopping, and big dinners are fucking done.”

Pitchfork: You can come off bitter and combative online. Like when you had beef with XXL for not including you on their Freshman List and you responded by naming both your single and tour after the list.

Nav: It’s not on purpose. I think sometimes I’m just not good at this shit. It’s why I’m trying to put my face out there more. But honestly that feels like so long ago. I cringe at the person I was two months ago; I’m always changing and growing. And with that let’s just say I had drugs in my system and people in my ear. It was bad timing and I came off bitter because of that.

Do you think that immaturity contributed to Reckless being underwhelming?

Yeah, I wasn’t ready. I handed in that last album like homework. I was caught up in the lifestyle, having new money. Some of the songs on that album I didn’t even touch like I normally would, no beats, no arranging the mixes. On Reckless I was just a rapper, but really I’m a producer, engineer, a musician, and needed to put that all into the music. I thought the fans would just like whatever I put out because it was me. When I saw the reviews from fans and on websites, I realized I could really lose everything.

What would you lose? The fame?

Honestly, I feel like I’m just now starting to get famous. But fame is something I want, it’s a good problem to have. I’m still not there, because when I walk out of fucking Delilah in L.A. and TMZ will be standing out there with cameras and not even take a picture of me, I get sick. I get in my fucking Lambo truck right in front of them. All my jewelry on and they don’t even take one picture. But God willing this album will change that because, if they’re taking pics it must mean my album went number one and I’m getting more money.

So those critiques are what changed your mindset when making Bad Habits?

I was paranoid. I couldn’t fall off and I kept telling myself it could happen. I was feeling the pressure, so I just started putting in more work, got three young producers to take under my wing, and started to track everything.

Do you think you care too much about outside validation?

Not even, I just really care about my music. I would never want to be known as a shitty artist.

What happens if the response you’re looking for doesn’t come? Does that make you nervous?

Normal nerves. I’m more excited than nervous. Look, I’m just so happy to be here and that people actually listen to my music. Lowkey, I can’t believe this is real life. I’m here smoking a blunt and eating good food: that’s fire. I sometimes look at my ring and be like, “Damn do you know who the fuck I am?” I remember being high as hell backstage at Coachella with Abel and I asked him, “Bro, are you ever like I’m The Weeknd—the hell!?” And he was like “Yeah, all the time.” And that made me feel normal and grounded too. Because all these guys I’m around are so cool, magical, and not human, but they are. And I get to be around them too, so I guess, really, I fucking made it already.