T.I. — Microphone Fiend 2005
As predicted, T.I.’s third album is exploding. He is more than the South’s newest champion; he looks ready to shoulder the next era of hip-hop. This is his first one-on-one interview for Japan.
Interview by: Miyuki Watanabe Myrthil
Hip-hop heads can’t take their eyes off T.I. right now, so we were determined to lock him in. Since 2003, he has quietly stretched his name from Atlanta into every corner of the country; that momentum is now impossible to ignore. Even Jay-Z—the man who decides who is “next”—pointed at him and said, “You’re up.”
He is slight of build and his eyes cut like a hustler’s, yet he can turn up in a crisp suit and soft-brim hat, looking every inch a suave mafia don. Visually striking, with a charisma that hits both the hardest street cats and the ladies, he transmits an appeal so natural it is almost scary: the kind of magnetism that lets him do everything effortlessly. Believe the hype—this guy is the real thing.
This conversation is translated, lightly edited for content and clarity, follows below.
Where were you born and what were those early years like?
“Born and raised in Atlanta. I grew up right in the inner city, a totally typical hood childhood—got in trouble a lot, even did a little time in juvie. Straight-up street life.”
Did you do anything special to sharpen your skills?
“I rapped every single day.”
What does being good actually mean to you?
“Passion, man—pure passion.”
Where does that passion come from?
“I can’t explain it. It’s just inside me. It’s natural.”
How were you living before your debut?
“Hustling in the street. I rapped too, but hustling was how I ate.”
Were you always solo?
“I wrote with my partners sometimes, but on stage it was just me. The crew is P$C. Two of ’em are gone, one’s doing life.”
Did you mix with other Atlanta MCs—Dungeon Family, Lil Jon, those guys?
“Yeah, we’re cool. See each other in clubs and studios, got mutual friends. But before rap nobody in the industry knew me. I was locked into back-alley street life. I’d be in the hood every night, not the fancy clubs where cats like Jermaine Dupri hung out. I met Too Short, Big Gipp, Cee-Lo, Kujo while hustling.”
Did you shop demos around yourself?
“I tried whatever I could, but at fifteen, sixteen I was too street. Even the way I talked was raw as hell.”
Where did that fearlessness come from?
“I had a few father figures, all street dudes, one did ten years upstate. They taught me not to be scared. But really, none of it was calculated—I never sat around thinking about image.”
When did you form your production company, Grand Hustle?
“Grand Hustle is the label me and my partner Jason run. We left our first deal because the label wasn’t working. We pulled everything in-house and then did the joint venture with Atlantic.”
What’s your relationship with DJ Toomp, the producer behind so many of your records?
“Toomp’s my man. He’s got his own production company too—we build together.”
You started as T.I.P. but switched to T.I.
“When I signed to Arista they already had Q-Tip, so they said it’d just confuse everyone. Had to change it.”
How did you land at Arista in the first place?
“I knew KP, a VP at LaFace under Arista.”
Why move to Atlantic later?
“After I dropped I’m Serious I realized I could do way more myself. Arista didn’t share my vision; Atlantic had already been checking for us.”
Was “24’s” the breakthrough?
“Not just that—every song, every feature counts. ‘Dope Boyz’ on my first album, Bone Crusher’s ‘Never Scared’—all of it. 24’s and then Rubber Band Man hit, ‘Let’s Get Away’ too, and now it’s ‘Bring ’Em Out.’”
When did mainstream attention feel real?
“When ‘Rubber Band Man’ took off.”
What does Rubber Band Man actually mean?
“It ain’t that deep—just a cat who likes to keep rubber bands round his cash. If you live the way we do, you get it. It’s also a badge of struggle—you can’t teach the meaning, you have to live it.”
(The interviewer notes that T.I.’s definition lines up with the street reading: a man who always snaps back like a rubber band, no matter the pressure.)
Jay-Z’s prophecy
“Jay says when he looks at me he sees his own image layered over mine—‘You’re next.’”
That’s the ultimate compliment for an MC.
“More frightening than flattering. It means everything I’ve kept inside has to be raised a level. When somebody like Jay says that, no matter how many records you move, you feel small and know you’ve got to climb higher.”
What do you learn from Jay-Z artist-to-artist?
“That you can stay hood and hardcore without hollering all the time. You can carry the same character on a massive stage. If you’re true to what you believe, people follow.”
Your situation with Lil’ Flip became a big topic—where is that now?
“Who? Never heard of him.” (laughs)
Women around you say you’re already a sex symbol—were you aware of that?
(grins) “Seriously? I had no idea. Back on the street I wasn’t exactly a ladies’ man.”
Are you dodging the question?
“I’m just telling the truth.”
So what kind of woman do you like?
“A woman who knows what she wants and has the confidence to go get it—nothing to do with looks, though looks never hurt.”
What’s different between the rap game now and back then?
“More money now, that’s for sure. But back then everything was about rawness.”
A word on The Game.
“Dude’s got skills. I knew him back when he was dropping mixtapes. We went to L.A. together before Murder Was the Case came out. He’s levelled up, got a hot crew, and when he finally drops an album it’ll shake things.”
What kind of career do you picture for yourself?
“I just want success.”
How far do you want to go?
“I haven’t come this far to stop now. I want to see the ceiling—or whether there even is one. OutKast, Jay, Pac—talented cats go way past the place people expect. I want a chance to test myself the same way.”
Outside of music, any obsessions?
“I’m into bikes—ZX-750s and the like. I love cars too: Benzes, Jaguars, a Bentley GT’s about to be delivered, plus a designer golf cart.”
Still rolling on 24-inch rims?
“Not on everything, but yeah—gotta keep ’em somewhere.”