Avoiding the trap
Rapper T.I. sheds light on the real Atlanta
Unlike fellow Atlanta rappers Bone Crusher and Killer Mike, with whom he shares track-space on the crunked-out megahit, “Never Scared,” T.I. is no major-label rookie. His just-released album, Trap Muzik (Atlantic), follows the Bankhead native’s 2001 debut, I’m Serious (Arista). Two years ago, however, the New York-centric hip-hop industry hadn’t yet hipped itself to the grassroots demand for Southern rappers in general, especially not ones with T.I.’s gritty flow. With the sound of “crunk” gone national this year, things have changed. And T.I. — who’s already scored a hit with “24’s,” while a second single, “Be Easy,” rises — now gets grouped in with the latest crop of Atlanta rappers to break out of the South.
But even among peers such as Bone Crusher and Killer Mike, T.I. stands out. His rhyming skills have more to do with old-school New York than the South’s current crunk glory. His lyrical content goes against the grain. With the ATL so often hyped as a new black promise land, local hip-hop tends to concern itself more with partying and prosperity. The reality of the streets can get overlooked. But T.I. has really been there.
“It’s nothing to brag on, be proud of, I’m not trying to glorify that,” says the former drug dealer, who’s intimate with the justice system. With Trap Muzik, T.I. isn’t content with the typical “I sold drugs” spiel that has become a hip-hop cliche.
“I’m getting into trying to tell people why the dope boys and the trap niggas are [that way], why we do the things we do,” he says. For him, the trap refers to the areas where the dope game — the street hustle — flourish. On “Be Better Than Me,” he warns a young boy, “Shawty them streets ain’t the place to be/I’m telling you/Because it’s too late for me/Shawty, be better than me.”
Indeed, what comes across most, in much of his music, is the struggle of everyday people — and not so everyday — trying to make it. On “I Can’t Quit,” he references the bumps and bruises he has experienced in hip-hop. “Ten years, an album and two deals, for real/We all know I should have sold 2 mil, at least,” he rhymes.
Originally T.I. went by the name T.I.P. (coincidentally, there is a song on the album titled “T.I. vs. T.I.P.”), but he changed his moniker because rapper Q-Tip (of A Tribe Called Quest) was also signed to Arista at the time his debut album dropped. While he was willing to bend on that, ultimately, the label just wasn’t the right fit. (When Arista finally did embrace Southern street rap this year, it broke Bone Crusher nationally).
“There was just an understanding of what I expected and what they had to offer. And the two just didn’t match,” T.I. says of his original label. “They didn’t come from where I came from, so they didn’t understand it at the time. Sometimes people get to catch on to things at the beginning and sometimes it takes for everybody else to see and understand it, and hip them to it, before they really understand what’s going on.”
The false start with Arista, however, didn’t stop T.I. It just fueled him. In addition to doing shows throughout the Southeast, he also released two independent albums, In da Streets Pt. 1 and In da Streets Pt. 2, both of which sold well on a grassroots level. By the time his relationship with Arista officially ended, everybody was trying to cash in on the Southern rap boom. And T.I. was one of the artists at the center of the frenzy.
Being wanted and having people accept your music, however, is still challenging for the former hustler. “I’m used to making fast money. And everybody knows that legit money doesn’t come as fast as other kinds of money,” says T.I., who co-owns his label Grand Hustle as well as a company that rehabs houses in Bankhead. Because illegal pursuits have obvious drawbacks, he remains committed to going it straight.
“You have to look at what really benefits you and your family,” he says. “If I’m not here living and breathing, I can’t support my mom, my daughters, my sons, my loved ones the way I like to.”
music@creativeloafing.com
But even among peers such as Bone Crusher and Killer Mike, T.I. stands out. His rhyming skills have more to do with old-school New York than the South’s current crunk glory. His lyrical content goes against the grain. With the ATL so often hyped as a new black promise land, local hip-hop tends to concern itself more with partying and prosperity. The reality of the streets can get overlooked. But T.I. has really been there.
“It’s nothing to brag on, be proud of, I’m not trying to glorify that,” says the former drug dealer, who’s intimate with the justice system. With Trap Muzik, T.I. isn’t content with the typical “I sold drugs” spiel that has become a hip-hop cliche.
“I’m getting into trying to tell people why the dope boys and the trap niggas are [that way], why we do the things we do,” he says. For him, the trap refers to the areas where the dope game — the street hustle — flourish. On “Be Better Than Me,” he warns a young boy, “Shawty them streets ain’t the place to be/I’m telling you/Because it’s too late for me/Shawty, be better than me.”
Indeed, what comes across most, in much of his music, is the struggle of everyday people — and not so everyday — trying to make it. On “I Can’t Quit,” he references the bumps and bruises he has experienced in hip-hop. “Ten years, an album and two deals, for real/We all know I should have sold 2 mil, at least,” he rhymes.
Originally T.I. went by the name T.I.P. (coincidentally, there is a song on the album titled “T.I. vs. T.I.P.”), but he changed his moniker because rapper Q-Tip (of A Tribe Called Quest) was also signed to Arista at the time his debut album dropped. While he was willing to bend on that, ultimately, the label just wasn’t the right fit. (When Arista finally did embrace Southern street rap this year, it broke Bone Crusher nationally).
“There was just an understanding of what I expected and what they had to offer. And the two just didn’t match,” T.I. says of his original label. “They didn’t come from where I came from, so they didn’t understand it at the time. Sometimes people get to catch on to things at the beginning and sometimes it takes for everybody else to see and understand it, and hip them to it, before they really understand what’s going on.”
The false start with Arista, however, didn’t stop T.I. It just fueled him. In addition to doing shows throughout the Southeast, he also released two independent albums, In da Streets Pt. 1 and In da Streets Pt. 2, both of which sold well on a grassroots level. By the time his relationship with Arista officially ended, everybody was trying to cash in on the Southern rap boom. And T.I. was one of the artists at the center of the frenzy.
Being wanted and having people accept your music, however, is still challenging for the former hustler. “I’m used to making fast money. And everybody knows that legit money doesn’t come as fast as other kinds of money,” says T.I., who co-owns his label Grand Hustle as well as a company that rehabs houses in Bankhead. Because illegal pursuits have obvious drawbacks, he remains committed to going it straight.
“You have to look at what really benefits you and your family,” he says. “If I’m not here living and breathing, I can’t support my mom, my daughters, my sons, my loved ones the way I like to.”
music@creativeloafing.com