Hip-Hop

It’s the first night of July’s ­Broccoli City Festival in Washington, D.C., and actor-writer-producer Issa Rae has some exciting news to share with the 30,000 fans in attendance: She’s releasing her first rap album. Although moments later she clarifies that it was a joke, the Hollywood polymath reveals what might deter her if she was really angling to become music’s top female rapper. “Megan Thee Stallion has bars and body,” Rae says as she introduces Megan’s headlining set. “She’s actually intimidating. I can’t look into her eyes for too long.”

It’s easy to see why Megan Thee Stallion would give anyone pause. Standing at 5 foot 10 inches, she’s bold, bright and bodacious — an awe-inspiring trifecta. When I meet Megan at D.C.’s Four Seasons Hotel the next morning, her larger-than-life persona is in full force: Clutching a Louis Vuitton Murakami bag, she walks into the plush hotel suite with model-like precision as if it were her personal runway. But her imposing aura quickly melts away to reveal her signature wit. When we last spoke two years ago, Megan gave me a hard time when she learned I’d never had Flamin’ Hot Cheetos — and neither of us has forgotten it. “So, you really never tried Hot Cheetos?” she asks before giving me a quizzical look. “What kind of childhood did you have?”

Trending on Billboard

In 2020, Megan’s two Billboard Hot 100 No. 1s — her “Savage (Remix),” featuring Beyoncé, and her Cardi B collaboration, “WAP” — helped her become one of pop culture’s biggest names, and her three Grammy Award wins in early 2021 cemented her critical bona fides. Since then, she’s been omnipresent, becoming one of just 40 artists to pull double duty as both host and musical guest on Saturday Night Live (and on Sept. 11 she will host the MTV Video Music Awards), guest-starring in the Disney+ Marvel series She-Hulk and later appearing in 2022’s campy Dicks: The Musical as well as 2024’s big-budget musical remake of Mean Girls. She expanded beyond entertainment through savvy brand partnerships with Nike (her sneaker collection The Hot Girl Systems) and Popeyes (her signature Hottie sauce), and she even has her own tequila coming, Chicas Divertidas, which was inspired by a conversation with Beyoncé. “ ‘You better have your own s–t,’ ” Megan quips, imitating her fellow Houstonian. “You better know the next time she saw me, I said, ‘Hey, Beyoncé. Look what I got.’

“I’m proud of all my business deals because everything I do is personal to me,” she continues. “I put 100% into my partnerships, and I’m always so grateful when people want to step into my world. When I see a brand I f–k with and they want to come into the Hot Girl World, I’m like, ‘Thank you, this makes sense. I love that you’re recognizing me as much as I was already recognizing you.’ ” She’s stepping into worlds outside her immediate orbit, too: In July, Megan performed at Vice President Kamala Harris’ presidential campaign rally in Atlanta, using her Hot 100 top 20 hit “Body” as a vehicle to speak up for reproductive rights.

But while the 29-year-old enjoys wearing multiple hats — college graduate, philanthropist, actress, mogul — she’s always happiest when she’s rapping, and her extra-musical pursuits have made her a wiser businesswoman as she pursues her passion. Following a yearslong legal dispute, Megan and her label, 1501 Certified Entertainment, amicably parted ways in 2023, making her an independent artist. In February, she partnered with Warner Music Group for distribution, gaining complete ownership of her masters and publishing — an unprecedented move for a female rapper. Her third album, Megan, is her first under this new arrangement.

Released in June, Megan debuted at No. 3 on the Billboard 200 with 64,000 equivalent album units in the United States, according to Luminate, making it the biggest debut for any rap album released by a woman in 2024. Megan also topped Billboard’s Top R&B/Hip-Hop Albums chart for the second time in her career — the sixth female rapper to do so.

On Megan, the Houston MC’s world of bruising Southern rap and rump-shaking anthems is alive and well, as is her deep and abiding love for Japanese culture. “Otaku Hot Girl” samples the popular anime series Jujutsu Kaisen, while she performs alongside Japanese rapper Yuki Chiba on “Mamushi.” After the latter track broke out on TikTok — bolstered by Megan creating and demonstrating the song’s dance in a Sailor Moon-inspired outfit — she shot its video in her second home: Japan.

“When I’m out there, I always feel happy,” she says with a smile. “The air is clear, the people are polite, the food is good. The culture is so interesting to me. I learn something every time I go out there. I learn a little bit of Japanese every time I go. The shopping is good. It just feels super positive every time I’m there. I really like being there because I’m big on energy. As soon as I touch down, I always feel like I can take a breath. Everybody good.”

House of JMC dress, Anabela Chan earrings.

Ramona Rosales

On Megan, the Houston Hottie lives up to her nickname, returning to her hometown roots — including her pairing with hip-hop duo UGK on album standout “Paper Together.” Megan grew up a fan of UGK’s Chad “Pimp C” Butler and received a gift from his widow, Chinara Butler, during the recording process: unreleased vocals by the late legend that she sent Megan to use. “From the first time I met Meg, I knew she was meant to work with Chad,” Butler tells Billboard. “She’s an extremely talented MC, and I’ve always appreciated her genuine love for my husband’s music. She’s helped introduce Chad to a new generation of hip-hop fans.”

Though Megan can be an aggressive rhymer, she knows how to calm things down and keep it sexy, too — like on the Magic City-ready anthem “Spin,” featuring Victoria Monét. “She’s a very confident and strong woman,” Monét says. “Megan knows exactly who she is. She doesn’t let people push her off her dot. There’s a lot of respect there. Also, she makes great music that brings people together and makes them dance. You want to watch her shake something and learn to shake something because of her. She’s inspiring.”

But at her core, Megan is still an MC — and like a coiled snake, this fierce iteration of her strikes on album opener “Hiss,” released in January. Aimed at collaborator-turned-­detractor Nicki Minaj, “Hiss” ignited the year of competitive rap — in which Kendrick Lamar and Drake have also feuded, as well as Latto and Ice Spice — as Megan delivered a searing diatribe at Minaj, following the Pink Friday star’s slights against her on 2023’s “FTCU,” when Minaj rapped: “Stay in your Tory Lanez, bitch, I’m not Iggy,” referencing the rapper found guilty of shooting Megan in 2020 who was sentenced to 10 years in 2023. A year later, Megan lashed back: “These hoes don’t be mad at Megan, these hoes mad at Megan’s Law,” she raps on “Hiss,” referring to the federal law mandating that law enforcement make information about registered sex offenders public. (Minaj’s husband, Kenneth Petty, is a registered sex offender who was convicted of rape in 1995 for assaulting a 16-year-old.) The song debuted at No. 1 on the Hot 100 — Megan’s third chart-topper on the list.

“I’m going to keep doing what I’m doing,” Megan says. “If people feel like I’m somebody to aim at, then I must be pretty high up if you’re reaching up at me. I must be some kind of competition. That makes me feel good. That makes me feel like I could rap because if I wasn’t the s–t, y’all wouldn’t be worried about me.”

Though Megan relishes competitive battles, she prefers championing her peers. Following the success of her first-ever headlining tour, this year’s Hot Girl Summer, she reconnected with the run’s opener and her new bestie, GloRilla, on “Accent.” Earlier this year, she’d scored a top 15 Hot 100 song with Glo’s “Wanna Be,” and the sold-out arena tour created a rock-solid bond between the female MCs that sharpened their studio chemistry; now, they want to release a joint project together.

“Megan is a real rapper, and I’m also a real rapper,” GloRilla says. “We actually be talking and coming with bars on some down South gangsta s–t. [It would be] some down South, real turnt, real rap [s–t].” (“I think that would be very fire,” Megan says. “I ain’t gon’ say too much, but it feels like it’s going to get done.”)

While being the face of female rap may sound enticing, it doesn’t move Megan, who, during her three-month tour, happily shared the spotlight with not only GloRilla but also Cardi B and Latto, who made guest appearances at the tour’s New York and Atlanta stops, respectively.

“I got a lot of people trying to critique me and tell me what I am and what I’m not. I feel like I’ve proved myself over and over again,” she says. “If there’s a question if Megan Thee Stallion can’t rap, you need to go ahead and quit asking that question. We know I could rap.”

Ramona Rosales

You began your career playing the Texas circuit and now you’re an arena-caliber superstar. How did your beginnings prepare you for this?

It definitely taught me how to be the performer that I am. It made me understand, “OK, all you got to do is get out here and have fun.” So every time I get onstage, I’m not thinking too hard. I’m thinking like, “I’m partying with my people.” Going around my home state definitely set me up to be prepared to be comfortable with people everywhere else.

Because of the pandemic, Hot Girl Summer was the first time you hit the road since 2019. Was the extended layoff a blessing in disguise?

It wasn’t a blessing in disguise — it was a blessing outright. I was so happy to see that so many people came out and sold out a bunch of these dates. People were genuinely excited to see me, genuinely excited to see [GloRilla]. You had people like, “Oh, we don’t know if she can [sell out arenas].” Bitch, it ain’t no question about it now.

Take me back to your concert at Madison Square Garden, where you, Cardi B and GloRilla shared that stage. It was a powerful moment.

It was a little East Coast-Southern sandwich we had going on. I was very happy. I genuinely love Cardi. I genuinely love Glo. In the industry, you really don’t meet a lot of girls who want to see you be successful. You meet people, and I’m not just going to say girls, but you don’t meet a lot of artists that want you to have success because they’re scared sometimes it’s going to take away from their success. Music is competition, rap is a competition, but those two ladies, I feel like we all like to see each other do good things. We like to see each other win. Sharing the stage with people that want to see you do good and you want to see them do good, it felt very uplifting. I felt like we were feeding off each other. I felt like we helped each other. Being onstage with them made me feel good because I knew we were proud of each other.

In 2022, I spoke to Q-Tip about you, and he said, “People still haven’t even seen her full artistry yet.” Is Megan the peak of that artistry?

I still feel like I have more to give. With this album, I wanted to show people my personal interests and thoughts. I wanted to touch on my love for all things anime, all things Southern, how much I like to have fun, and I wanted to be myself. I feel like I did that. A lot of people were expecting me to come on this album talking one way and I wanted to introduce myself — this version of myself that I am right now. Sometimes, people listen to me with ears of “I don’t like her, so I don’t want to like it.” The more people sit with the album, the more and more they’re like, “OK, you know what? This s–t is banging.”

Ramona Rosales

On “BOA,” there’s a bar where you say: “Y’all do this s–t for TikTok/Bitch I’m really ­hip-hop.”

Nothing wrong with TikTok. TikTok is fun. It’s for people to get on there and have fun. Show me what you’re eating, show me how you’re dancing, show me what you’re doing. I feel like TikTok is happy.

I say that because you’re one of the biggest stars in the world. How do you still maintain that hip-hop essence?

Because I really like to rap. Where I come from, people are really freestyling. What I come from is hardcore rap, Southern rap. The one thing in my life that I knew I was really good at was rapping. I don’t ever want to get away from that. I don’t ever want to play with it. I don’t ever want people to think I don’t take it seriously. I’ll be the rapper that is good for a bunch of verses and freestyles because that’s what I like to do.

Your mother, Holly-Wood, was a rapper. What did you learn from her, skillwise?

Just that attitude. My mama was so feisty. She had a lot of aggression in her rap voice, and because in her nature she was naturally an aggressive woman, she sold it. I feel like the main thing for me is always selling it. Making sure who I am comes through in my voice when I’m rapping. You’re not going to believe what I’m saying if I don’t deliver it strong. My delivery lets people know that I’m strong.

What was it like when you received Pimp C’s verse, which you used on “Paper Together,” while in the studio with your producer, ­LilJuMadeDaBeat?

We both cried. Like, “Oh, my God. I can’t believe we got this verse.” I love Pimp and Ju love Pimp, and we share that same love of Southern rap. Pimp C made me feel so gangster, he made me feel so cool. To have my voice on a song with my favorite rapper ever, an unreleased verse? Motherf–kers ain’t walking around with Pimp C verses. And I got blessed with one.

I heard you’re sitting on more unreleased Pimp C verses.

I mean, we might [have] some more stuff. It’s more stuff in the chamber, but I want to keep Pimp C alive. Not saying it’s not alive; [his wife] Chinara keeping it alive, his children keeping it alive, people in Texas keeping it alive. I really want people to know who the f–k Pimp C is. As much as I get to put his voice on wax, I will.

House of JMC corset, Jimmy Choo shoes, Anabela Chan earrings.

Ramona Rosales

You’ve said that your relationship with Warner Music Group is based on trust. How has the label proved its trustworthiness?

They ain’t told me “no” yet. They did exactly what they said they was gon’ do. Everybody that I work with there, we’re on calls together all the time talking about how we feel like we could make the partnership better. Everybody’s been so cool, and they’re so easy to work with. Everybody’s been super nice, and I like nice people. They’re just nice at Warner.

Very few artists can say they got their masters before they turned 30. Why was that a priority for you?

I’ve been fighting for my freedom my whole rap career. I just couldn’t take no for an answer. I don’t ever want to be in a situation where somebody got their foot on my neck ever again. You got to do things to make yourself be your own boss.

How has it been navigating that road as an independent artist?

Being independent is hard. When you got a label that does everything for you, all you got to do is wake up and be the celebrity. That’s a very easy life. I have to do s–t other people aren’t doing. I do work as my own label. I do fund a lot of my own things. There’s a lot of things I’m still learning as I go. The s–t is not just handed to me in my lap — I really got to go figure out, “OK, now I’m doing it by myself.” Not that I’m doing it only by myself, but I’m in a position to be my own boss, so I got to figure out how to be the boss and how to be the employee. It’s tough, but I like figuring it out. I like doing things on my own. I like working. I’m not going to stop. The more I know, the better I’ll get.

You’ve been so open about your love for Japanese culture, especially anime. As a Black creative, how influential has it been on you?

I really like the storytelling in anime. The thing that resonates with me while watching a lot of the anime I like is watching the character development — seeing the character go from nothing to everything. When I feel like I’m getting beat up in life, I remember some of my favorite characters. I see that they had to go from literally zero and getting their ass whooped in their training. Even when they start popping and getting their muscles — because you know they be skinny as hell, then they start getting a little ripped — even when you start seeing the character getting a little swole, you like, “All right, he’s going to defeat all you motherf–kers. It’s over with.” Then he still getting his ass whooped and it’s like, “Man, I feel bad for my boy.”

Even after getting his ass whooped, because you got to fall down a few times, the character doesn’t ever get discouraged. They always like, “All right, I may have got my ass whooped but Imma get back up, and watch how I come back 20 times stronger.” I resonate with that. No matter how many times I get knocked down, I never feel like, “F–k it, Imma quit.” I just need to get better. I need to get back, try again, train harder and go harder so I can keep evolving into my best self.

When you did “Pressurelicious” with Future in 2022, you paid him $250,000 for a verse and said you treat your features like a business. Why, and how?

When you cool with somebody, you should support their business. You shouldn’t ask them to do nothing for free because you cool with them. I feel like that’s a lot of people’s problem with their homies. Just because your homie got a clothing line, that don’t mean he got to give you clothes for free — like, support your friend. Don’t expect anyone to give you something just because we cool. That’s how I treat my artist friends. I’m not asking you to do nothing for free. I wouldn’t come in your house and take all your food out your house and I invite you to my house and it’s like, “Oh, what?” Just as much as I give, I can receive. I just feel like it’s a back-and-forth thing. I just want them to know I really respect what they do. I go all out for myself. I splurge on myself, I love myself, I love what I do, and I want everything to look right. I want everything to be right. I feel like you’re going to take me seriously once I let you know: This is not a favor; I’m asking for this.

Natalia Fedner dress, Alexis Bittar earrings, XIV Karats rings.

Ramona Rosales

I think you started this competitive rap energy we’ve seen in 2024 when you released “Hiss.” Do you feel you’re the reason MCs are rapping competitively again?

I would like to think that I start things. I don’t know; I just knew what I had to do and what I had to say. If it opened up the door for everyone else to get s–t off their chest, well, I’m glad.

You took shots at Nicki Minaj. Is there a chance for a reconciliation or even another collaboration one day?

I still to this day don’t know what the problem is. I don’t even know what could be reconciled because I, to this day, don’t know what the problem is.

Does being the face of female rap for the next 10 years drive you? Is that something that you want?

I just want to rap. I want to be Megan Thee Stallion. I want to rap for as long as I can.

After he made some inappropriate comments about you last November, Shannon Sharpe apologized. Do you feel you’ve been getting more support from Black men over the last few years, or is that something you’re still looking for more of?

At this point in life, I really don’t care. Maybe if you would’ve asked me this last year or two years ago, I would’ve wished I had more Black people in general in my corner. It would’ve felt nice to be protected by some Black men in this instance, but the more I wasn’t getting it, the more and more I realized I wasn’t going to get it. Who should feel safe and important at the end of the day is me, and I was going to have to make myself feel that way. I wasn’t going to find it in people I don’t know at all. Now I don’t care. As long as I make myself feel happy, then that’s what matters to me.

I’ve seen a lot of Black men rapping your lyrics at your shows. That must be a dope feeling.

Because we actually are going the hardest right now. The women are killing it right now. We are the hardest MCs right now. We going harder than the boys, for sure.

Ramona Rosales

How do you maintain personal peace while living a good chunk of your life as Megan Thee Stallion?

I feel like Megan and Megan Thee Stallion are the same person. When I’m Megan Thee Stallion, I’m having to wear armor. I definitely got to go onstage and get in that mode, but I’m still the same person. Just when I’m not in public, I can really decompress and slouch, and I could watch anime all I want. I can play with my puppies, I can talk on the phone with my cousin, I could be with my best friends in peace. I don’t have to worry about being too strong. I could just be me.

You’ve been extremely vulnerable on songs like “Cobra” and “Moody Girl.” How therapeutic were those to make?

It felt really good to make them because it used to be hard for me to be vulnerable on songs. I could be upset and make a song like “Freak Nasty.” [I’ll be] pissed and I’ll go make that. I’ll be sad and make something like “Body.” I’ve always wanted to open up and not make it too preachy or too sad. I still want to ride the beat. Now I’m getting in a space where I can figure out how to express myself over beats that still allow me to be hard. It’s tough, but I use it like a diary now. I really do it because I know there are other Hotties that like to listen to those songs, and they resonate with the lyrics. I feel like it makes them understand, “OK, this my girl and she might appear to be Superwoman, but she going through it just like me.” I don’t want everyone to think I’m a goddamn robot, because I’m not a robot. I want them to know it’s OK to be human, to feel anxiety, depression and to feel low. You’re not going to feel like that all the time.

How inspiring is it for you to see Kamala Harris running for president, especially as a young Black woman?

To be alive in a lifetime where a Black woman or a woman at all could be the president, I feel so blessed. This is what the future is about. We really about to get a strong, Black female in there. I feel like America needed a woman to come in here and put a woman’s touch on it. It’s been going a little crazy lately, and we need somebody to put their foot down. I feel like Kamala, she gon’ do that.

I never thought we’d be in a situation where we could have two Black presidents…

Yeah, in the same lifetime. We are really doing the damn thing. I’m proud of us. Now we just got to get out there and go vote. I don’t like it when I see people saying, “I’m not voting. F–k it.” What the f–k are you talking about? You’re going to complain about what you don’t like but you’re not going to help the cause? I think that’s very irresponsible because if you don’t like what Trump has going on, why even aid in him being the president again?

You’ve said this is your “selfish era.” Do you feel like you’ve been able to reclaim some of your power?

Yeah. I used to really care how I made a lot of people feel before how I made myself feel, before how they made me feel. Somebody could make me feel like complete s–t, but I still never wanted to do anything to make anybody else feel like s–t. I still don’t want to make people feel like s–t. At least now I know, “Let me put up my boundary.” As soon as you make me feel a way that I don’t like, I just don’t want to deal with you anymore. You don’t got to fight evil with evil, but I don’t have to deal with this at all. I don’t have to do things to make other people smile. What am I going to do to make me smile? What you going to do to make me smile? Everything was about making other people smile and other people happy. Now I’m in a space where I want to be happy. I’m not going to take away [from] being happy so I can put other people’s life and happiness as a priority over mine.

This story appears in the Aug. 31, 2024, issue of Billboard.

With 90 minutes to go before he takes the stage at Lyrical Lemonade’s Summer Smash festival, Playboi Carti is already involved in a performance — just outside of his trailer.
Sprayed on the trailer’s side in red graffiti art is the word “OPIUM,” the name of Carti’s creative agency and partnership with Interscope Records, along with an eye that looks like something an eighth grader might say is an Illuminati symbol; the trailer’s window, in a massive font, bears the number “666.” Carti’s trailer is stuck between several others, plus the big SUV that transported the 28-year-old rapper from his hotel to the Chicago-area festival. An entourage of about a dozen people — including rising artists and Opium signees Ken Carson and Destroy Lonely — swarms around him. Marijuana smoke hangs over the area, a smell so perfectly foul that it reminds you why one of the drug’s nicknames is “loud.” At one point, members of the entourage light something on fire with what looks to be a butane torch, cackling like hyenas.

Jagger Harvey custom leather sling and Pelle Pelle pants, in collaboration with Rose Marie Johansen; Arena Embroidery custom hat, in collaboration with Rose Marie Johansen and Dawid Dinh; VAIN tank top and leather gloves.

Matthew Salacuse

If you’re going to get to know Carti, you might as well start here, as he prepares to do the thing he currently does better than any rapper on earth: perform. Though his albums are rapturously jolting — and wildly popular — Carti is most in his element onstage, and right now, the vibe is something like a pregame warmup meets secret society gathering. His entourage embodies the punk attitude that Carti celebrates in his aesthetics, music and concerts. It’s a diverse crew, from heavily pierced Nyree Morrison, a skater and artist known for reworking shoes and clothing with spikes, jewels and all manner of scribblings; to Carti’s barber, wearing a chain with a barbershop pole on it that Carti gifted him; to a white kid with hair fashioned into giant black-and-white spikes who looks like a Degrassi extra (and is actually skater-model Burberry Erry); to Carti’s manager and Opium COO, Erin ­Larsen, a white woman whom the rapper affectionately calls “Mom.” Soon, Lyrical Lemonade founder Cole Bennett shows up with the rapper BabyTron. The gang’s all here to watch hip-hop’s most innovative artist of the 2020s headline Summer Smash for the third straight year. “Every year, he is the one person that people really look forward to,” Bennett says. “It’s tradition at this point.”

Trending on Billboard

In the seven years since Carti burst into the public eye with his self-titled 2017 mixtape — now platinum-certified — his music has developed from the trembling trap that he took from Atlanta forebears like Future into the peerless rage he debuted on his most recent album, 2020’s Whole Lotta Red. Behind the leaks, the album delays and the general secrecy surrounding his existence is an undeniable talent — someone whose voice could make a retirement community resident perk up in an instant. Performing live is a key part of his artistic package and how he delights fans — he and Larsen, a former CAA agent, first paired up after she saw him pop out at a Brooklyn show around 2015 and sought to meet him backstage — not to mention how he winks at his biggest skeptics as they realize they can’t deny his volcanic presence.

His talent has also propelled him on the charts, where Carti has been a force for nearly a decade. Since his first Billboard Hot 100 top 40 hit, 2017’s breakout single “Magnolia,” he has scored four top 10s on the chart (all as a featured artist), including this year on Ye and Ty Dolla $ign’s “Carnival” and Future and Metro Boomin’s “Type S–t,” which peaked at Nos. 1 and 2, respectively. Whole Lotta Red, released on Christmas Day in 2020, debuted and peaked at No. 1 on the Billboard 200 in January 2021 and has spent 147 total weeks on the chart. Carti isn’t just culturally significant — he’s one of the most commercially successful hip-hop artists of the last decade.

VAIN full outfit, custom embroidered durag.

Matthew Salacuse

In person today, without the prosthetics or startling makeup he often wears on his face, he’s surprisingly good-looking — classically handsome and tall, with a jawline that would make a TikTok girlie swoon. Wearing the ensemble he has chosen for his Summer Smash set, he could pass for a runway-bound Rick Owens model. Several chains wrap around his neck, some seemingly crosses — startling for a man who, at times, calls himself a vampire. He’s draped in a Pelle Pelle leather jacket with a strap attached that hangs so far down his body it’s almost like a kilt. This is fashion as war paint — one way Carti makes himself seem larger than life.

If success was merely about an artist’s ability to perform, Carti would be as famous as Axl Rose or Jimmy Page. Lights — and sometimes, actual fire — blaze around him onstage. His sets disseminate an entire worldview through sound and atmosphere: Carti knows that fans see him as a hero, as someone who can help them exorcise their demons simply by moving around the stage with gusto, screaming lyrics that could function as cryptic Instagram DMs with his serrated vocals. “We want to continue championing him as a festival headliner,” says Ryan Thomson, his booking agent at CAA. “If we can achieve that success, and also do arena tour shows, we are in a good position in perpetuity.”

Outside of his guest performance with Travis Scott on the 2024 Grammy Awards stage in February, Summer Smash marks the first time Carti has performed all year, but if he’s nervous, he’s not showing it. For Carti, who started truly focusing on hip-hop when his high school basketball coach kicked him off the team, this never gets old. “I want to make the people feel like they don’t know what is about to happen,” Carti tells me after the show once he has come down from his intense set. “I get ready for a show like a boxer gets ready for a match.”

Matthew Salacuse

Like many rap superstars of the recent past, Playboi Carti — born Jordan Terrell Carter, his last name inspired his stage name — hails from Atlanta. Though he moved to New York shortly before making his first commercial mixtape, 2017’s Playboi Carti (following a few he had made under the name Sir Cartier), it’s still home to him, and he wears his pride for the city of fearless creativity — the place with a hip-hop lineage including OutKast, Gucci Mane, Young Thug and, now, Carti himself — like a badge of honor.

Just nine years ago, the king of rage rap was working at H&M. But when Carti moved to New York in 2015, it catapulted his career. After meeting A$AP Bari, Carti began rolling with the Harlem rap collective A$AP Mob — and especially its leader, A$AP Rocky. In Carti, A$AP Mob saw an ambitious, talented kid, and it helped him navigate the city and make connections; through Rocky, Carti met rapper Maxo Kream, producer Harry Fraud and more. For fashion guys who could rap at the time, Rocky was the biggest blueprint, and he mentored Carti, signing him by 2016 to his AWGE creative collective.

Even then, Carti’s music was distinctive. He took a more minimal approach than peers like Lil Uzi Vert and Young Thug, relaxing listeners with cloudy, euphoric production. Take “Location,” which opens his 2017 mixtape: Produced by Fraud, the song revolves around a beat that sounds like a lost Lil B file, with Carti’s spacey vocals drifting above it. “He had told me that he was a big fan of Curren$y,” Fraud says. “We were messing around and we started to knock them [songs] out.”

VAIN full outfit, custom embroidered durag.

Matthew Salacuse

Having recorded on his own for a few years, Carti was remarkably confident in the studio from the jump. He knew how to create soundscapes for songs, and as he spent more time with the A$AP crew, his intuitiveness and discipline in the studio made his records highly cohesive. But Carti’s also a perfectionist, and his frequent collaborator Cardo — who produced the December 2023 loosie ­“H00DBYAIR” — says he gets threats from impatient fans because the rapper’s releases can take a while. “It’s cool, but they got to stop threatening me,” Cardo jokes. “He’s putting it together! He isn’t rushing it.” That ability to take his time creatively and keep new music under wraps — even Fritz Owens, Carti’s mixing engineer, purposefully stays mysterious, Cardo says — is another way Carti cultivates his mythos and ensures it grows as big as the crowds he performs for.

Fraud says that when he started working with Carti, he knew that the young artist was on the cusp of greatness. “I could feel it,” Fraud recalls. “This kid is going to turn the corner; he has the personality. He is not the loudest guy in the room but he has a certain energy about him.” Carti knows what he wants to do when recording, and his catalog is proof. Released in 2018, his debut album, Die Lit, largely produced by Pi’erre Bourne, turned up the volume from his self-titled mixtape a few notches and became a smash, debuting and peaking at No. 2 on the Billboard 200. According to Carti, they spent time in Miami while recording it, performing throughout the city, and the energy of those shows bled into the album. “I’m always thinking about performing, even when I am making the music,” he says.

It all built toward Whole Lotta Red — the album Carti had been waiting to make his entire career and, so far at least, his masterpiece. He still has more boundaries to push, more biting vocals to spit, but that swaggering, urgent album — some of the crudest, most raging rap music since Yeezus — forced Carti’s peers back into the laboratory, like any real masterpiece does. Production played a huge role in that: The guttural beats from F1lthy (who has also worked with Lil Yachty and Yeat) were engrossing. “It’s all based on confidence. I believe in myself,” Carti tells me. “The moment I started recording, someone came to me and said that they like my songs. I stay in the studio every day.”

Friends love to tell stories about Carti’s infamous nightly sessions — and by the time he was crafting Whole Lotta Red, Carti had fully bloomed into a studio madman with a rigorous process, somewhere between George Martin and Ye. Cardo remembers one time they pulled a recording all-nighter; he finally crashed around 6 a.m. — and only got two hours of sleep before Carti woke him up and exclaimed, “You ready, twin?” “I was up for a whole damn near 48 hours with Carti — straight up working,” Cardo gleefully recalls today. Carti sometimes calls himself a vampire and plays with the aesthetics of being one, and the description isn’t entirely off base. “Vamp Anthem” might be a song on Whole Lotta Red, but it’s also a way of life — music has consumed Carti.

Matthew Salacuse

That’s why the leaks of Whole Lotta Red bothered him so much. When music from the project prematurely hit SoundCloud and YouTube, Carti tinkered with the album, delaying its official release. (Leaked tracks from the sessions still litter YouTube.) Sure, Carti loses money when his music leaks, but the creative loss bothers him more: Fans hear something that’s not the exact product he wanted to put out, and he has to come up with new songs. “He’s giving people his absolute best, things that he wants to put his stamp on,” Larsen says. “It delays the process. You don’t want to see the Mona Lisa in an art museum before it is a finished piece of work.” Carti seems exhausted by this, and the broader rabidness of his fan base that it demonstrates. Last year, fans managed to send flowers directly to his mother’s house (presumably to thank her for birthing him); when they found out where his own place was, he had to move. “I’m very blessed,” Carti says. “But it is frustrating because [that’s where] we have to lay our heads.”

Now in the midst of making his third studio album, I Am Music (planned for release by year’s end), Carti is still the workaholic who made Whole Lotta Red, and the sessions for the project, at Carti’s Means Street studio in Atlanta, have been predictably long and meticulous. Carti’s style is in constant evolution, and he and Cardo already have a name for the sound they’ve been workshopping for the project: “burnt music.” “We’ll be in the studio, like, ‘This music is burnt,’ ” explains Cardo, describing the sonics of DJ Toomp, DJ Paul, Juicy J, The Legendary Traxster and even the aesthetic of John Carpenter’s movies as influences. When they first started working together four years ago, Cardo wasn’t sure what style of beats Carti would want — whether he would be on the disorienting F1lthy wave or his pugnacious trap Pi’erre Bourne wave. They ended up building their creative relationship off “H00DBYAIR,” which was originally intended for release on the 2021 Candyman soundtrack. (Carti ended up releasing it as a single in late 2023.)

But even as he has earned praise — and become a genre figurehead — for his work in the studio and onstage, Carti has made headlines for other, less admirable reasons. In 2017, he was arrested for domestic battery after grabbing a woman’s backpack and forcing her into an Uber. In December 2022, his then-pregnant girlfriend, Brandi Marion, told police that, amid an argument about a paternity test, Carti had physically attacked and choked her; when police arrived at the scene, they found her with visible injuries on her neck, back and chest. And that’s to say nothing of the nonviolent charges he has faced. In April 2020, he was caught driving with 12 bags of marijuana, three guns, Xanax pills, oxycodone and codeine. Rapper Iggy Azalea, the mother of Carti’s son Onyx, has publicly accused him of being a neglectful father.

When asked about his various legal issues, Carti declines to say much: “I don’t want to answer that, you know? Jail ain’t no fun.” But that’s not entirely out of character for him: Throughout our interview, Carti dodges questions about relatively benign topics, too, including his relationships with Lil Uzi Vert and Lil Yachty, two artists who have been involved in his career since his self-titled mixtape.

Matthew Salacuse

In the moments before Carti takes the stage, the thousands of fans assembled feverishly chant his name in unison at the top of their lungs. A full five minutes before he goes on, their phones are out, ready to capture him on video the moment he appears. When he does, it’s on a mount with windows, a stage over the original stage, and he’s screaming and athletic — the supreme commander of this sea of acolytes.

“He’s always wanted to produce his own concerts, and he has wanted to cultivate a fan base that has become what it has become in terms of its rowdiness,” CAA’s Thomson says. “He’s brought in the guitar element, the heavy rock aspect. It was night and day in terms of performance style once we got out of the pandemic.” Carti has even expanded the conceptual ambition of his shows: Tonight, fire roars above him as if he is Al Pacino in The Devil’s Advocate. Though they’re not performing, the Opium artists who huddled around Carti before the show have accompanied him onstage for the ride; between flame blasts, they emerge from the smoke that billows out of an onstage cannon.

Matthew Salacuse

It’s every bit as electrifying as punk rock, though even that might be an understatement. Over the next hour, Carti cycles through an eclectic range of features, album tracks and unreleased songs, from his collaborations with Future (“Type S–t”) and Travis Scott (“FE!N”) to “Stop Breathing,” a fan favorite from his own catalog. He also tests some unreleased songs on the audience, and while it’s hard to imagine anything he does getting a less-than crazed response, they all absolutely play.

After the concert ends, he’s clearly pumped about how it went. He thanks everyone, then enters a car that will drive him to a club in downtown Chicago. But once inside the vehicle, removed from the high of performing, Carti becomes distant — the vampire retreating into his coffin for the night. As I ask him questions, he seems disengaged, asking me to repeat them often. He’s back to real life, but for Carti, real life is onstage, where he experiences an electricity that will never be matched by normalcy. As we drive steadily on the freeway, his once-burning intensity peters out. But then another car pulls up and a group of white teenagers shout, sure that the dark-tinted windows of his SUV conceal their hero: “That’s Carti! Is that Carti? I know you have Carti in there! That must be Carti!” He hears them and slowly rolls down the window, greeted by their now even-more crazed exclamations: “Carti! Holy s–t, Carti! Carti! F–king Carti!” Their lives are made. “Love y’all!” Carti shouts back. “That’s what we do it for.”

This story appears in the Aug. 31, 2024, issue of Billboard.