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In the back room of an industrial art space in Brooklyn’s Bushwick neighborhood, A$AP Rocky is venting. Not about the muddled reaction his first official AWGE clothing collection garnered at Paris Fashion Week. Not about the devoted fans who keep asking what’s going on with A$AP Mob, the long-dormant hip-hop collective he co-founded nearly two decades ago. And, surprisingly, not even about the potshots Drake sent his way during the Rap Civil War that took place earlier this year.
Nah, tonight Rocky is venting about children’s TV shows — Cocomelon, to be specific. “That s–t is driving me nuts! Don’t tell my girl I said that,” he says before flashing his million-dollar smile, tonight speckled with platinum and diamonds, and letting out a laugh. “I’m totally joking, I don’t give a s–t. She’s tired of it, too, probably.”

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His girl, of course, is Billboard chart-­topping, Grammy Award-winning, billionaire business mogul Rihanna. The two first met over a decade ago when they were rehearsing for their joint performance of her “Cockiness” remix at the 2012 MTV Video Music Awards. The following year, Rocky joined the North American leg of her Diamonds World Tour as the opening act; a few public appearances together later — 2018’s Louis Vuitton show at Paris Fashion Week, Rihanna’s 2018 Diamond Ball and the 2019 London Fashion Awards — speculation began swirling that the two were more than just friends. By 2021, after a series of high-profile outings including a Bajan vacation, the two stylish superstars made their relationship official when, in a GQ interview, Rocky called Rihanna “my lady” and the “love of my life.”

Tonight, however, Rihanna is simply a “great mother” — to their two children, 2-year-old RZA Athelston Mayers and 1-year-old Riot Rose Mayers — and an inspiring partner. “It’s crazy how we find balance with our chaotic schedules,” says Rocky (born Rakim Mayers). He’s wearing a custom black AWGE suit that he designed himself, complete with the multiwaist pants that he’s popularized recently. “[The relationship] is going great. I don’t think there’s a more perfect person because when the schedules are hectic, she’s very understanding of that. And when the schedule’s freed up, that’s when you get to spend [the] most time together. It’s all understanding and compatibility.”

AWGE suit, shirt and tie.

Ruven Afanador

That may seem a bit rich coming from one half of the couple who seems to relish keeping their fans endlessly waiting for their next project to drop. But despite not releasing an album since 2018’s TESTING, Rocky’s schedule has been surprisingly hectic — and music has kept him surprisingly busy in recent years. He went on his Injured Generation Tour and headlined major festivals (multiple Rolling Louds both in the United States and abroad; Montréal’s Osheaga in 2022) — much to the chagrin of the pundits and haters who wondered how a guy with little to no new music (and fewer plaques and Billboard chart-toppers than many of his contemporaries) was getting all these looks.

To be fair, it’s not as if Rocky hasn’t tried — if he had it his way, the streets would be flooded with his product. For one thing, there was the small matter of his July 2019 arrest in Stockholm, where a jury found him guilty of assault. (In a bizarre turn of events, then-President Donald Trump called for his immediate release but, according to Rocky, was unable to make anything happen.) And over the past six years, every time he’s gotten into a good creative groove and amassed a worthwhile collection of songs, they’ve been prematurely leaked to the public. “At this point I’ve been working on music for six years, but they leak my music and I get over it and say, ‘F–k it,’ ” he says. “They leak a lot of the music and it ruins it. Like my ‘Taylor Swift’ video. I was pissed off about it, so I never released it.”

In case you haven’t been keeping up, he’s not referencing a video featuring The Eras Queen — he’s talking about the trippy visual for a song named for her that found its way onto the internet last year. Directed by Vania Heymann and Gal Muggia, it would have felt right at home on The Eric Andre Show, while the music was Rocky’s usual brand of experimental, location-­agnostic, luxury rap.

Today, Rocky seems confident that he’s in full control of his creative output and says he’s finally ready to drop his long-awaited fourth album, Don’t Be Dumb. He’s only been working on it for the past year but he believes, like most artists discussing their new work, that it’s the best album he’s ever made. (During the course of reporting this story, he does push its release date from Aug. 30 to the fall.)

Don’t Be Dumb skews slightly heavier topically and goes deeper than Rocky’s usual vainglorious works. The 35-year-old jack-of-all-that’s-fly chalks this up to him getting older (“I’m an OG now”) and wiser and the world being bats–t crazy at the moment; one of the first songs he recorded for the album is a grim, experimental track called “Shroom Cloud” that deals with “current affairs and world wars and, you know, the world dying and whatnot.”

“At times like this, only two types of people strive and survive,” Rocky theorizes. “I’m not trying to sound like I’m glorifying wars, [but] I think artists and druggies, they make it through. I mean, what was the hippies doing? They was getting high at Woodstock and f–king and having a great time and having these hippie babies who subsequently had us.”

AWGE suit, shirt and tie; Ray-Ban sunglasses.

Ruven Afanador

Tough times have been occupying Rocky’s thoughts for at least the past year or so. German expressionism — the popular art movement born in 1919 that focused on the artist’s innermost fears, desires and turmoil — has been a major influence on not just this album, but all his recent artistic endeavors. When asked to describe who he is at this moment, he says, “Grim.”

“In this very moment, it’s very grim. That’s an abbreviation,” he explains. “It’s infusing German expressionism with ghetto futurism.” When making Don’t Be Dumb, Rocky tried to get one of its most famous American practitioners, director Tim Burton, to lend a hand and create the cover art. The two couldn’t align their schedules to make it happen, but Rocky was able to play him the album. “I sat and I played the album for Tim Burton, and he was f–king with it heavy,” he says. According to Rocky, when the Beetlejuice director heard it, “he was rocking his head and he’s like, ‘Wow! I didn’t know you made that kind of music!’ ” And though he couldn’t get Burton himself involved, Rocky did succeed in nabbing the director’s longtime collaborator, composer Danny Elfman, to contribute musical snippets throughout the album, including on a song produced by The Alchemist.

Don’t Be Dumb will still feature the kinds of collaborators Rocky’s fans expect, like rapper and friend Tyler, The Creator, and an all-star roster of producers including Pharrell Williams, Mike Dean, Hitkidd, Madlib and Metro Boomin, as well as some they most definitely won’t, like Morrissey. But getting such a crew on your album when you’re as famous and renowned as Rocky isn’t a feat; the hard part is making all of those disparate sounds work together to make something cohesive and accessible.

“You got to know yourself,” Rocky says when explaining how he connects everything. “You got to know, ‘OK, this is too much. This is too far. This is overkill. This is not enough.’ That’s what I think makes you a unique artist: when you could determine what’s needed. And what’s unnecessary.”

A$AP Rocky knows himself very well. The painter Jackson Pollock once said that “every great artist paints what he is” — and the joy of discovering new artists is watching them figure out the best version of what they are. But A$AP Rocky entered the game seemingly fully formed, with a well-hewn aesthetic, image and point of view. Sure, some of his outfits and songs from 2012 may make him cringe today, but that’s the price you pay when you’re on the cutting edge of culture.

Few rappers have the innate self-confidence that Rocky has had since he first burst onto the scene in 2011 with “Purple Swag” from his debut mixtape, Live. Love. A$AP. Along with his Harlem-based crew, A$AP Mob, Rocky reenergized New York rap by melding the promethazine-drenched sounds of Three 6 Mafia with the swag and styles of his Harlem hood. New York rappers before him had hopped on tracks with Southern rappers — Jay-Z and Ma$e come to mind — but they all did so either on their own terms or those of the guest MC. Rocky, aided by his late collaborator and mentor Steven “A$AP Yams” Rodriguez, utilized the internet to break down geographical walls and make some of the first post-regional rap. Their style literally changed the game: No longer did rappers have to sound like the city in which they were born. Influence could come from anywhere your Wi-Fi could take you.

AWGE jacket, shirt, belt and pants; Puma sneakers.

Ruven Afanador

Even as his star grew brighter, Rocky never rested on his laurels, using his albums as laboratories to cook up what he felt the game was missing. His heavily anticipated studio debut, Long. Live. A$AP, expanded on the NYC-meets-Memphis amalgamation of his 2011 mixtape by bringing in a slew of collaborators from across the musical world including Skrillex, Santigold, Drake and Kendrick Lamar. The album cemented Rocky and A$AP Mob as the ones to push NYC hip-hop into a new era — and also proved, for better or worse, that Rocky knew how to swing for the fences for a pop hit. At. Long. Last. A$AP, released in 2015, five months after Yams’ untimely death at 26 from an accidental overdose, was another departure, with Danger Mouse and Juicy J joining Yams as executive producers. The album slinked from track to track, mixing psychedelic rock with modern trap and acoustic folk, the lattermost courtesy of a guitarist named Joe Fox whom Rocky met on the street while traveling in Europe.

It was a critical and commercial success, topping the Billboard 200 — Rocky’s second straight No. 1 album — and proving that he had a clear and unique creative vision. And he was concurrently demonstrating that vision wasn’t limited to his music. At a time when Ye (the artist formerly known as Kanye West) was revolutionizing sartorial horizons for Black men everywhere, Rocky was working to push the style game even further. He partnered with up-and-coming brands like Hood by Air that sold the kind of garments most fans never imagined they’d see a rapper wear. Before Rocky, it wasn’t common to see a rapper rock a kilt, or tight leather pants or a handbag (or a satchel, quite distinct from a simple “purse,” as he taught listeners on his and Tyler, The Creator’s “Potato Salad”). He helped make all of that not just cool, but normal.

“I grab inspiration from so many different places, genres and cultures, and I make it original. Originality is a skill set. I think I have a talent in finding and recognizing that in people,” Rocky says. That skill set helped him launch AWGE in 2016. A collective that’s part record label, part clothing brand and part creative agency, AWGE has allowed him to explore each of his diverse passions.

But it took until earlier this year for Rocky to produce an entire collection worthy of a runway show at Paris Fashion Week. Titled “American Sabotage,” the collection featured pieces that looked as if they came straight out of an ’80s sci-fi flick. Rocky calls it “ghetto futurism” and, much like everything else he does, he believes that despite the mixed reviews the show received, it’ll be the norm sooner than later. (On the latest tease for the new album — the song “Highjack,” which takes Rocky back to the block with a woozy but airy beat that melts into a folk-rock ditty, assisted by indie artist Jessica Pratt — he reminds listeners that he was the one who started most of the trends they enjoy today: “Before we dropped ‘Peso’ on you n—as, you ain’t like Raf,” he raps in his usual laid-back lilt, referencing Belgian fashion designer Raf Simons.)

To hear him tell it, it took him these many years just to learn how to really make clothes. “You learn the game before you play it. Crawl before you walk. I wanted to do what was right,” Rocky says. “I’m from New York. I’m a Black man. The fact that we premiered my first show in Paris, France, with some of the biggest people in fashion? It was just surreal.” At that moment, he says — even amid a crowd that included some of the biggest names in art and culture — he was just Rakim.

“I’m not cocky in the sense where I’m like, ‘I got the president’s number in my phone right now!’ Until you sit back and say, ‘Oh, s–t. Pharrell and Pusha T and Malice is [at my show], man.’ That’s support,” Rocky says. “[Designer] Tremaine Emory is here to show his brother some support. Kris Van Assche, he gave me my start [as a face of Dior when he was artistic director of Dior Homme] and they signed me in 2015. [Tiffany & Co. executive] Alex Arnault was here. My girl was here! There were so many people, and I’m so appreciative of them coming to see me do my thing because I wasn’t about to fall flat on my face. We made sure of that. It’s like I said: Any critique, save it, ’cause my mindset is already like, ‘This is what it is. This how everyone should look. This is what it’s going to be for the next couple seasons. So get with it or get left.’ ”

AWGE suit, shirt and tie.

Ruven Afanador

AWGE’s most successful division so far, however, is its record label — and a lot of that success is due to the imprint’s first signing, Atlanta’s Playboi Carti. Rocky first met Carti when Carti was crashing at a friend’s house in New York. Carti’s 2017 debut mixtape became an internet sensation, spawning the hits “Magnolia” and “Wokeuplikethis,” and his debut studio album, 2018’s Die Lit, debuted at No. 3 on the Billboard 200, solidifying both his burgeoning star power and Rocky’s prowess as a music executive.

The success of Carti’s debut made him a sort of cultural folk hero, the inspiration for memes and entire subreddits dedicated to deciphering his coded language and Dracula-meets-­suburban Hot Topic fashion sense. But more importantly, he became rap’s new vanguard, with his next album, 2020’s Whole Lotta Red, spiritually picking up where Rocky’s third, TESTING, left off. Both albums eschewed popular rap tropes, sounds and themes for something wholly original; both got mixed reactions, but Carti’s transformed him into a cult hero.

When I ask if Carti is the future of rap, Rocky gets serious. “That’s where rap is. I knew that’s what it was going to be. What do people expect? We not just signing people to be signing people. We want to be the best of the best and that’s all it is, and his s–t speaks for itself.

“Statistically, what I’m saying is right. Sonically, theoretically, what I’m saying is right,” he continues. “Because there’s a Pharrell that comes with [each] generation. There’s a Jay-Z that comes with [each] generation. There’s a Kanye West that comes with [each] generation. There’s a 50 Cent that comes with [each] generation. The people that’s been most influential in the past 10 years, nine times out of 10 comes out of our camp. If not, we rubbed off on them or they picked up some type of influence. That sounds cocky, and I didn’t want to go there with it, but I swear it’s true. Behind the scenes. On the scene. I promise you.”

AWGE jacket, shirt, belt and pants; Puma sneakers.

Not content with leaving his mark on music and fashion, Rocky looked to Hollywood early in his career. After landing a bit role in the 2015 coming-of-age indie film DOPE executive-produced by Williams, in which he basically played a fictionalized version of himself — a young, fly, street-smart dope dealer — Rocky began looking for newer and better opportunities. “I’m tired of being a gangster,” he says. “I guess because I’m so removed from being a gangster in real life. They always want to cast me on some gangster s–t.” He pauses for a moment, reconsidering. “I ain’t tired of being a gangster, I’m lying. But I need to play a doctor or a lawyer or some s–t. A therapist. Something.”

Outside of fashion, film is the art form he’s most serious about now. “When I do movies, I show up on time. I’m rehearsing. I’m practicing, I’m reciting. I literally take it as a real job. Nothing else matters,” he says. “I’m a Method actor, so I embody whatever character I’m playing at the moment.” His upcoming projects include Spike Lee’s much-anticipated High and Low, a remake of Akira Kurosawa’s 1963 opus starring Denzel Washington. It’s damn near impossible to not pick up anything when working alongside two legends like Denzel and Spike, right?

“Denzel is still a heartbreak kid,” Rocky says with a smile, clearly comforted by this discovery. “That man going to be 101 years old and he still going to have girls fainting and s–t. So I learned how to keep my pizzazz even when I’m his age. I’m like, ‘Oh, I’m going to be aight. I’m Young Denzel. I’m Himzel, you heard?’ ”

On Sundays during the summer, Melba’s, a locally beloved soul food restaurant on 114th Street that’s been a Harlem staple for close to 20 years, partners with neighboring businesses along Frederick Douglas Boulevard to host big outdoor parties. Go at the right time, and you might catch some Harlem royalty partaking in the live music, food and drink and general good times.

On this particular Sunday, around 3:30 p.m., A$AP Rocky is strolling through the crowd, his hair in tight cornrows, his ensemble of a button-down shirt and jeans unusually unassuming. (His teeth, on the other hand, are adorned with enough diamonds to fund an indie film.) He slinks into Melba’s trying to go unnoticed, but even in his everyman outfit that’s a fool’s errand. He’s Harlem’s hometown hero, and as soon as he steps inside, people jump up to ask for a photo. A police officer approaches him and tries to convince him to attend a local event. Another Harlem legend, fashion designer Dapper Dan, just happens to be stopping by to grab a bite and embraces Rocky.

When we step back outside Melba’s, true chaos erupts. A throng of Harlemites encircles Rocky, clamoring for a moment with the local superstar. Despite it all, Rocky remains calm and courteous. He poses for what seems like 100 photos, even helping some elderly women with their phone cameras. Some people walk up just to tell him that they remember him and his mother, who grew up around this corner; one man sees us and crosses the street to tell Rakim that he’s proud of him. Rocky says the man once babysat him. “People calling me by my first name; he said ‘Rakim.’ That’s how I knew he knew me,” Rocky explains, still basking in the tumult of the crowd. “If it would’ve been A$AP or Rocky… But that man said Rakim. So you turn around and respect your elders and show love and grace, and I think that’s what’s most important. This is somewhere I would consider raising my family. You know what I’m saying? Seriously. If I found a brownstone nice enough to, you know what I mean?”

AWGE suit, shirt and tie; Ray-Ban sunglasses.

Ruven Afanador

Rocky says he comes back here often, though the response from the public makes it seem like he’s an exotic whip you would only see in magazines or YouTube influencer videos. People lean out of windows screaming, “Harlem!” or “I love you, Rocky!” Cars zoom by and screech to halt; as we walk to Morningside Park, one slowly pulls up next to us — worrying, at first, though it turns out to be a group of women so nervous that they simply yell, “I love you! You’re so fine!”

It’s clear that Rocky revels in this. Being in Harlem brings him back to his childhood: to the days long before he became known as the Pretty Motherf–ker, before he became involved with one of the most famous women on the planet.

We walk to his first childhood home, an apartment building on 118th Street and Morningside Avenue. He says he would like his children to have a Harlem upbringing even if they’re not raised here. “I think being in Harlem allows you the freedom of walking to the store, walking to the park, getting clear in your mind, going to the swings, being more present and active,” he says. “I think if you live in a suburb somewhere, you’re probably more inclined to just go to work, go to the mall, driving and s–t. Here is just present. You are more in the thick of it.”

But surely Rocky and Rihanna’s kids won’t be able to live the same kind of childhood he did here in Harlem, right?

“Yes, they do,” Rocky snaps back. “Man, let me show you little RZA last night, bro. Look, this is my little man right here.” He pulls up a video of Rihanna and RZA walking and playing along a cobblestone street in SoHo, as if that indicates the type of life the child of a billionaire creative couple can live. “They still human. They human beings,” he tells me.

AWGE shirts, tie and pants; Ray-Ban sunglasses; Bottega Veneta shoes.

He doesn’t have a Range Rover (he drives a Hummer EV), but, to paraphrase Cam’ron, Rocky is a changed man. He’s no longer the rambunctious kid from Harlem who was trying to prove to the world how much iller than everyone he was. For a guy who already had a supreme sense of self, he’s even more comfortable in his own skin. For example: Instead of launching into a full-on rap beef when it was reported that Drake sent a few disses not only his way but Rihanna’s as well, Rocky simply hopped on “Show of Hands,” a bonus track on Future and Metro Boomin’s We Still Don’t Trust You, and threw a few light jabs his way.

“You got to realize, certain n—as was throwing shots for years. I ain’t in the middle of that s–t,” he says, looking off into the distance. “That’s not how I retaliate right now. I got bigger fish to fry than some p—y boys. It is real beef outside. It is real. N—as getting really clipped and blitzed every day. N—as sniping n—as every day. That little kitty s–t ain’t about nothing.” His voice trails off as he looks at the photos of his kids on his phone.

This story will appear in the Aug. 24, 2024, issue of Billboard.

Aht, aht, you not finna embarrass me!” Latto jokingly warns her pet shih-poo, Coca. The fluffy little pup — the first of several in her brood, soon, if Latto has her way — is deciding whether to use a grassy area outside a North Hollywood rehearsal studio as the bathroom. Fresh off a delayed flight and clad in a cheetah-print bonnet, matching maroon sweatsuit set and her trademark cheetah-print thong, Latto is living up to her latest alter ego’s name: Big Mama has arrived.
After a two-hour-long, energy-boosting IV drip treatment and a few vitamin C shots directly in her posterior (“It’s OK because I got a lot of cushion back there!”), the Atlanta rap superstar will head straight into hours of rehearsal for her upcoming performances at BET Experience Fan Fest on June 29 and the 2024 BET Awards the following evening, where she’s nominated for best female hip-hop artist — an honor she won last year — and best collaboration (“Don’t Play With It,” her Billboard Hot 100 hit with Lola Brooke and Yung Miami).

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The 25-year-old rapper moves through the rehearsal space with a seasoned professional’s composure and a Gen Zer’s sardonic humor. At the BET Awards, she’s set to perform a medley of “Sunday Service,” “Big Mama” and “Shoutout to Me” — the latter two for the first time on TV. All appear on her upcoming album, Sugar Honey Iced Tea, due in August. Today, not a single detail gets past the artist born Alyssa Michelle Stephens — from the volume levels in her in-ears to the drums on her different live mixes to every last hair flip in her high-octane choreography.

“I’m not going to be rolling around on that stage forever. I even told them I don’t want to twerk onstage no more!” Latto says with a laugh. “I said, ‘I’m too grown for that now!’ ” Still, she’s hell-bent on flawlessly presenting her new material. You can almost see the gears turning in her head as she runs through her set, keeping track of her volume, breath control and overall stamina as she transitions from the soul-baring vulnerability of “Shoutout to Me” to the seductive purr of the first half of “Big Mama,” which dropped just days earlier.

Latto may be nearly a decade into her rap career, but she’s still hungry — and better positioned than ever to realize her dream of bringing authentic, female Southern rap to the top of the charts on her own terms. Throughout our time together during her whirlwind weekend in Los Angeles, she keeps returning to three words: “I want more.”

Dolce & Gabbana bodysuit from UmaLu Vintage, The Vault by The Ivy Showroom coat.

Christian Cody

That same hunger helped fuel her crossover into the pop world following the release of her second album, 777, in spring 2022. A month after 777 dropped, its lead single, “Big Energy,” climbed to No. 3 on the Hot 100 and No. 1 on Pop Airplay, bolstered by a remix featuring Mariah Carey and DJ Khaled. Its success — as well as that of follow-up singles “Wheelie” (with 21 Savage) and “Sunshine” (with Lil Wayne and Childish Gambino) — led to a pair of 2023 Grammy Award nominations, including for best new artist. Then, in July 2023, Latto joined forces with BTS’ Jungkook for his single “Seven,” which became the first Hot 100 chart-topper for both artists.

But amid her newfound pop success, Latto has doubled down on her hip-hop bona fides, making culture-shifting records like her ­Cardi B-assisted “Put It on Da Floor Again.” She says it was that track, made with producers Pooh Beatz and Go Grizzly, that “sparked a whole new energy for me as an artist. It just felt Southern.” That new energy inspired Sugar Honey Iced Tea, where she seeks to champion her ATL roots — and, maybe, deliver a Southern hip-hop classic of her own.

Over a leisurely, rich dinner — complete with wagyu and caviar — a few days after the BET Awards, Latto reminisces frequently about her Clayton County upbringing, from American Deli runs to smashing trays of hot honey wings with friends and her younger sister, Brooklyn. And the love between Latto and Atlanta has long been reciprocal: She made history in 2024 as the first female headliner for the WHTA (Hot 107.9) Birthday Bash and unequivocally rocked the city’s State Farm Arena on June 22, bringing out special guests and hometown stars including Usher, 21 Savage and Summer Walker. “I done opened for T.I., 2 Chainz, Young Thug, 21 Savage,” Latto reflects. “These people know my story, and they really respect me.”

Now her city is watching as she eyes a new phase of stardom and aims to reiterate one thing above all else: that Latto is, in fact, the sh-t.

“The whole album is the single. It’s a story — it ain’t just hot records,” RCA Records president Mark Pitts stresses. “I haven’t loved a female rap album since Lil’ Kim. There’s songs I love, but an album? This album, from top to bottom, is that. She put in work and it’s curated.”

Though she’s keeping the album incredibly close to her chest — “Even my DJ, my brother, be like, ‘How you dropping an album and I ain’t heard it?’ ” she jokes — Latto’s confidence in the project is clear. When she speaks about Sugar Honey Iced Tea, her eyes light up, her shoulders roll back and her back straightens. She exudes pride — not quite cockiness, but a deep-seated reverence for how she has been able to translate her past few years of growth into a potentially career-shifting album.

Christian Cody

Latto kicked off 2024 collaborating with a pair of pop icons (Usher and Jennifer Lopez) while also remaining in conversation with her peers, tapping Megan Thee Stallion and Flo Milli for her “Sunday Service” remix — a preview of sorts for Sugar Honey Iced Tea, which will include guest appearances from both “respected” Southern hip-hop OGs (in the words of her manager, Kayla Jackson) and collaborations with peers that Latto arranged herself. That ability to find common ground with both veteran and new-school stars is also a reminder of Latto’s unique position among female rappers right now. The proverbial middle child (as J. Cole once described himself), she became known after winning a reality competition (the first season of Jermaine Dupri’s The Rap Game) but, by her own admission, has more in common with the pre-social media generation of women in hip-hop. She still butts heads with a few of her peers, namely Bronx rapper Ice Spice, with whom she has been trading subliminal shots for the past six months.

With 10 years — and, now, top 40 success — under her belt, Latto is ready to prove she can maintain her pop presence by injecting the mainstream with pure Southern hip-hop. Pitts notes that as RCA (a label historically known as an R&B powerhouse) works to fortify its hip-hop offering, Latto is “one of the leaders,” and he believes Sugar Honey Iced Tea is the album that will “bring [Latto’s] core sound to the pop world and educate them.”

“A true benchmark [of success] would be everyone talking about, ‘She has her Ready To Die,’ ” he continues. “Or comparing it to [any] classic album.”

Sugar Honey Iced Tea also represents a new personal era for Latto. Big Mama just closed on a house in Atlanta, and she has been wading further into acting. (She auditioned for the forthcoming sequel to horror hit Smile but was not cast.) Later this year, she will appear as a judge on season two of Netflix’s rap competition show, Rhythm + Flow, alongside Ludacris and Khaled, a full-circle moment, considering her own reality TV roots. And as her career continues to blossom, she says she’s focusing on meditation and prayer, using both practices to balance the energies of her different alter egos: Latto, the polished public figure; Alyssa, the private A-town girl who enjoys watching Nara Smith’s TikToks; and Big Mama, the boss.

At dinner post-BET Awards weekend, Latto basks in relative relaxation. She’s balancing celebrations — recently splurging on blue light glasses complete with factory diamonds, much to the chagrin of her mother and business manager — with nightly studio sessions wrapping up Sugar Honey Iced Tea.

“On my mama, this day has been a blur,” she confesses, nibbling a mini blini topped with smoked salmon mousse. “We was in the studio the day before yesterday, and I was like, ‘This sh-t fye, but it don’t fit this album.’ I’m already working on the next album. I’m ready to drop this off and keep going. I’m in a whole new bag right now. Promise you.”

Christian Cody

So, who is Latto versus Alyssa? Who is Big Mama?

I’m really trying to be [better with] making them all one person, but I think they’re just very different. Big Mama is probably like my more bossy version of myself. I’m Big Mama when I’m telling [Coca] to sit the f–k down or when I’m on the phone with my business manager like, “I need to bring at least 60% of my motherf–king profit home! I ain’t going on tour for that much money!” That’s when I got my business hat on and I’m making money decisions.

Latto is like the personality — that’s the politician who kisses babies and shakes hands. Alyssa is right now at the dinner table; I be my little quirky self.

Producer 9th Wonder was on X gassing the “Shoutout to Me” part of your BET Awards performance. It’s a very magnetic and vulnerable track. What inspired it?

I had this song that I dropped within the first few months of being signed [to RCA] called “No Hook.” I was very vulnerable on it, so I wanted a song like that on the new album, but a more grown-up version. I got way more to talk about now. I wanted that texture of vulnerability.

What new things do you have to talk about?

Sh-t, from 21 to 25, I feel like I became a woman. Everybody used to tell me, “Oh, when you turn 25, something is going to change in your brain.” I really feel like it did. I’ve had new relationships, I bought my first house, signed deals, fell out with people. Every year that I’ve been in the industry, I feel like I’ve reached more success, so there’s just more sh-t to talk about.

You really are a girl’s girl by nature. How do you balance that with treating rap as a competitive sport?

As a Capricorn, I’m naturally competitive already. I always want to be better and better. I’m competitive not just with other people, but with myself, too. I’m like, “Well, last year, I was streaming this amount, and this year, it’s not doubling?” Growing up with a sister as my only sibling, it’s me, my mom and [her]. That’s my family. I grew up around women. I just like working with women. I think it’s more protective — I feel like as a girl, you have to have girls around that understand. I got men that work for me, and I can’t be like, “Bro, I just started my period.” They don’t understand doing shows on my period or doing a red carpet on my period. There’s so much more emotional elements to a female artist that men can’t understand.

How have you been navigating your new pop stardom?

It’s so weird because that was never a goal of mine coming into this. For a little girl from Clayton County, I never really thought outside of Clayco. I was like, “Damn, OK. K-pop? What?” That sh-t just be falling in my lap. The opportunities, the production, the people that you have access to work with; it all grew as I grew. But I was never like, “Oh, I want to make a pop song.”

Latto photographed July 5, 2024 at Resonant Studios in Atlanta. Eastie LA tank, archive Dolce & Gabbana shorts, Dsquared2 belt.

Christian Cody

Speaking of K-pop, what was entering that world like?

Stepping into K-pop was very different for me. I was like, “Oh, these people running low-key cults! They do not play.” I’m posting regular pictures on Instagram, then I post the picture with JK — Jungkook — I’m seeing my comments, likes, everything tripling. They got a real cult following. That sh-t is crazy. And then performing with him in New York and seeing the fan base in person, that sh-t was different. I’m tryna get like that.

Did your recent cross-genre collaborations influence how you approached your new album?

I want to say yes because they broadened my horizons and made me start thinking outside the box. I’m trying new BPMs. Being from the South, I noticed I stay in certain slow bop, Southern BPMs, so [I’m] trying different sounds and experimenting.

When did you decide on Sugar Honey Iced Tea as the album title?

When I met Pooh and Grizz and locked in with them, everything just felt Southern. One day, shortly after we cut “Put It on Da Floor,” I just walked in the studio like, “Sugar Honey Iced Tea is the name of the album.” People be trying to be messy and thinking it’s a response to something. I promise you, this is before any of that sh-t. This is something that just felt Southern to me. Where I’m from, we be like, “I’m the sugar honey iced tea!”

Do you feel any pressure going into this new record?

I’ve proven myself. People like to hate, but I’d rather people be talking than not talking. People like to play with me a lot, but at the end of the day, baby, I turn 26 this year. Y’all met me when I was 16. I’ve been rapping since I was 8, but the whole country met me on TV on The Rap Game when I was 16. I paid my dues. I’m 10 years in. I got a whole wall of plaques at the crib. All the OGs love me. They show me love when I’m backstage at these awards shows, and I get my flowers [from] the motherf–kers that matter.

I love the music that I’m making right now. I’m not chasing achievements. I’m just doing me. This is the happiest I’ve been to the point where I even told the label [to] fall back. I’m in the studio — I don’t want y’all sending me no beats, no songs, nothing. I’m doing what I want to do. I really haven’t been this confident for a project yet.

Christian Cody

Who was on the mood board for Sugar Honey Iced Tea?

I feel like what I’m doing has not been done before, so let’s start there. [Aesthetically], I’ve been pulling from Mariah Carey, Beyoncé and Lil’ Kim. [Musically], I’ve been pulling from Kelis, but obviously with a Southern hip-hop twist. They have very feminine energy, but masculine in the sense of confidence. I feel like they was boss b–ches. It just gave “I’m that girl.” When you hear and see them in that prime era, it gave “I’m here to stay.” In a world where everybody do music, I’m looking up to the GOATs at this sh-t. Ain’t no microwave artists here. I’m tryna be here for a minute… I am going to be here for a minute. I’ve been here for a minute already.

What about Lil’ Kim? Any connection between “Big Mama” and “Big Momma Thang”?

I swear to God, no! (Laughs.) [My producers] reminded me of that and I was like, “Oh, sh-t. I hope [she] don’t take that as offensive, like I’m tryna run off with her swag.” But I spell mine different. And Kim love me down. Me and Kim like this. (Crosses fingers.) That’s my b–ch. I don’t even think it’s like a Kim or Latto thing. It’s just a female’s bossed-up version of herself.

How have you felt yourself mature over the past two years?

I really had to start paying attention to myself because in this sh-t, you are treated like a number [or] you work for the world. I’m still figuring it out. You have to please your fans, you have to please the label, manager calling me with these to-do lists, and then I have a personal house that I have to come home to and my personal [romantic] relationship I have to attend to. I was giving too much of myself away. I was running myself into the ground. I needed to start taking care of myself or I was going to take a break.

Shortly after I turned 25, I just started looking at life as more limitless. I’ve been cussing [my team] out every day, like, “I need some more business stuff!”

What parts of your stage show are you proudest of, and what do you think you still need to work on?

I’m most proud of my comfort onstage. When I watch footage back, I’m like, “Oh, my gosh. Who is she? That’s not the same girl from rehearsal.” I feel like I’m looking at a star.

I definitely want to get more into choreography. I started off with [none], and now I’m hitting a little one, two here and there. I be telling them I need my “Roll on the floor, get back up” dramatic moment. Being more comfortable in heels, too. I should be able to give a good show in heels. It just looks more elevated. Beyoncé not going to be up there onstage in Air Force Ones!

Do I need to start putting money aside for the Big Mama World Tour?

Yes, I am going on tour later this year. I’m taking a loss on my touring because I told them I don’t want my tickets no higher than $40. I was like, “If you really want to make me happy, make it $39.99.” I don’t want it to be this overpriced thing. I want it to be an experience, but also affordable. I don’t want people to be like, “Damn, this or buy my mom a birthday gift.”

You’ve called yourself “Queen of Da Souf,” and with that comes some influence to help dictate where the sound of hip-hop is headed. Are you interested in trying other new styles? Could we hear you on some Cash Cobain, sexy drill-type music?

I don’t like to venture too far out to where it gets confusing. I feel like drill is just too far from an Atlanta sound. So honestly, no. Unless it was like a feature or a remix. I don’t see me hopping on no drill beat. I just think it’s not authentic to an Atlanta girl.

Where do you want to see hip-hop go?

This whole female wave right now, we’re going to look back and be like, “2024, it was 10 female rappers performing!” The female rap category went from three names to like nine. I love that. Beat switches too, like the “Big Mama” beat switch. That’s the thing right now for hip-hop. I think a lot more storytelling and substance is going to start coming back because it’s been so much, “Pop your sh-t. What you wearing? What drugs you doing? What you sipping? How you looking? What you pulling up in?” I think it’s been so much of that for such a long time that storytelling is putting people’s antennas up now.

You’re deep in your storytelling bag with “Shoutout to Me.” How do you get into the right headspace to open up emotionally on a track like that?

I like to write those kinds of songs at home and then bring them to the studio to record. I cried writing that song. I have to go through my emotions and be in an “alone” type of space where I can be that vulnerable. I’m so tough. I be thinking I’m a whole-ass mafia n—a in the ’70s. In my past life, I had to be one of them Italian mob bosses. (Laughs.) But I’m really one of those little hard-shell chocolates that’s milk in the middle. I’m not going to sit in the studio and cry. Even some of those lyrics, I would not say that sh-t in front of nobody. I have to be at home, write that on my own and take it to the studio.

Christian Cody

As a rapper who respects bars, what did you think of the Kendrick Lamar-Drake battle?

I ain’t going to lie: I liked it! I liked the back-and-forth. I thought it was healthy for the culture. It just felt nostalgic. I don’t think our generation has even seen a rivalry like that. I f–ked with it. I also think people get too in it. I feel like it’s two n—as that’s killing this sh-t, and they both so talented and they both on they high horse flexing their talent and capabilities. They both still that n—a, they both still the GOAT. That shit fye for the culture, bruh.

What was your favorite track out of all of them?

Probably “Family Matters.” We was leaving from a Mariah the Scientist concert and they said Drake dropped another one. I played that sh-t the whole ride home, and then sitting in front of the house, I’m like, “Hold on, just play it again!” That was the one.

Would you battle like that with, say, Ice Spice?

I mean this in the most understanding [way]: I’m a fan of music. I’m not one of them “lyrical only, anything else is bullsh-t” people. There’s so many subgenres that I’m a fan of — like mosh pit-type music; when Drake is in his melodic bag, I like that type sh-t — and all of it is still hip-hop.

If I was to do [a battle], it would have to be with somebody I feel like Imma go tit for tat with. I really don’t mean it as shade. Would she even want to do that? I feel like she’s doing her in her lane. It’s two different types of vibes. I don’t even think she gives me like, “Oh, she wants to engage in an actual rap beef.” Everybody gon’ take their lil jabs in the music, and it’s not even that serious to me; I feel like you should do that. Continue to! But as far as actual whole dis records to each other, I don’t think she would even want to do that. I feel like… would it even make sense? It wouldn’t.

Outside of hip-hop, what’s been catching your ear recently?

Country music. My mom, her mom and dad listen to country, so it reminds me of being in Ohio as a kid. As I got older, I realized I really like country music, so I been playing Cowboy Carter. And this might not be technically country, but it reminds of it — that Sabrina Carpenter song “Please Please Please.”

You mentioned that you keep track of streams. Do you consider yourself a numbers watcher?

To a certain extent. When I first got signed, I didn’t give a f–k about none of that sh-t. I feel like fans and blogs have made me care more about it. Then, being a Capricorn, once I learned about it, now I’m like, “OK, what you said ‘Sunday Service’ was streaming the first day? OK, so this one doing better.” I try not to let it consume me because I don’t ever want that to interfere with the art of it. I came into this because I genuinely wanted to rap. At the end of the day, I make music for me. As long as I like it, I don’t give a f–k how much it streams.

This story will appear in the July 20, 2024, issue of Billboard.