About
Just an American man soundtracking the struggle and the soul from the red clay up. I don't make music for the radio; I make it for the subwoofers and the ones who’ve lived through the fire. From the grit of Flint-style funk to the deep, cinematic soul of the South, my tracks are a map of where I’ve been and the people who stood by me when the world got loud. I’m the one you’ll find on a dirt back road with the windows down, the bass rattling the frame, and the "Funky Worm" screaming over the pines. I’m writing for my brother Warren, my sister Kandy, and for every Black dude holding it down in a town that tries to look right past him. No labels, no hyphens, no fronting—just raw American hip-hop fueled by heavy smoke and honest scars. Turn the volume up 'til the mirrors shake. If it don't hit you in the chest, it ain't mine.