R&B/Hip-Hop

It’s been 13 years since Xzibit dropped his last album Napalm, and a whole lot has changed since.

Not just with Xzibit, who has since ventured into the cannabis industry, acted in dozens of films and gone through divorce — but to the music industry as a whole. The way albums are marketed and rolled out now is completely different than it was when Napalm dropped, while Xzibit’s core fans are now well into their 30s and 40s.

I ask if the rap veteran is aware people may not be as quick to tune in to his music. “This’ll be the litmus test,” Xzibit says of his new album Kingmaker, which drops on Friday. “Let’s see what happens. It’s a nice science experiment.”

Regardless, the former Pimp My Ride host is not nervous or worried, he’s amped. The album has colossal features from big West Coast names like Dr. Dre, Ty Dolla $ign and Ice Cube, and Xzibit has steadily promoted the project for months, appearing on seemingly every podcast known to man.

Kingmaker is an ambitious return to form, with Xzibit fully embracing his veteran status in the hopes of spreading some knowledge. Songs like opener “Play This At My Funeral” aim to inspire the youth, and offer guidance to those in need of it.

“I’m not preaching, I don’t wanna preach,” the rapper clarifies. “The church and politics are way too violent, I’ll stick to gangster rap.”

Below, Billboard chats with the rapper about his new album, his reunion with Dre, his Pimp My Ride legacy, his thoughts on the state of rap media and more.

You haven’t put out a record since 2012. I’m curious as you started getting back into the studio if there was any imposter syndrome or insecurity creeping in during the album’s early days?

I think the benefit of being able to have had a career spanning from 1996 to now, the self-doubt kinda [goes] out the window. I’m coming into the energy of where music is right now — and not necessarily ignoring what’s happening in music, but just realizing I need to do what I need to do extremely well. I don’t need to chase a trend or follow a sound, I just need to do Xzibit music really well.

What was it like then putting the album together? How did your sound change after all those years away from the booth?

I started and stopped the album like four or five different times because I didn’t like what was coming out. There are three songs that made it from the first original Kingmaker sessions, only three. Everything clicked when we did “Play This at My Funeral.” Now, that song gave me a nod to what the messaging should have been about, and that messaging was speaking from a position of power. If this was my last project, what would I wanna leave the game? That was the voice that I needed to find.

Tell me more about “Play This at My Funeral.” At what point in the creative process did that song transform into more of an anthem for your entire career?

I didn’t name the song until after it was done, and when I listened back to it, there was no hook. Just one long verse. When I heard the statements that were being made in it, and how final and immovable [they were] — the song has nothing to do with me dying, but it has everything to do with the state of the union of how I feel about music. How I feel about the state of affairs in this world that we’re living in. I just thought it was very fitting to start the album off with that.

So at this moment, how are you feeling about the state of hip-hop right now?

I think it’s grown substantially — and, to be fair, the state of hip-hop is well. There is so much music that comes out, and it’s hard to kinda grasp the way it was. There are new ways of communicating, new ways to get through to the audience. I think because it’s grown so much hip-hop is experiencing some growing pains. The only way we can keep going is to tend to it and make adjustments accordingly.

For example, I think hip-hop has grown to the point now where it needs sub divisions. It needs adult contemporary, alternative hip-hop, and I think looking at it from an objective point of view: it’s too hard to lump everybody in and just call it hip-hop. If you look at the birth of what Travis Scott is doing and the energy he brings to it, that was birthed around the Anger Management time when we were going out with Linkin Park and Limp Bizkit. That kinda energy merged those audiences, so now it’s a hybrid. It’s something different and it needs to be addressed as such.

Is that difference inherently good for hip-hop?

Absolutely! Hip-hop was once just one piece of music, now it permeates through all things. That’s a double edged sword as well.

After being in the game for so long and watching the extinction of albums and physical media and the rise of streaming, does it worry you at all about how music is consumed?

The audience and the artists are great, what we’re experiencing are the gate keepers trying to keep control of the gate. It’s the middle men that are trying to keep the revenue going a certain way. Music has been here since the beginning of time and will continue to be here. As far as how it’s consumed, how we communicate, that’s the main thing I worry about. The tug of war of who’s in control.

On “Shut Yo Mouth,” you rap: “Here to address the nation like a congregation/ While you gossip like a b—h in your conversations.” Compton AV rapped a bar about Akademiks in the song too. What are your thoughts on hip-hop media after watching it evolve over the years?

I feel like hip-hop media is like the Basketball Housewives, and ain’t none of ’em married. It’s the drama of it, and I get it, but it reminds me of the tabloids from back in the day, the National Enquirer‘s. It’s about everything but the music. People are making livings off that media, I get it, but I think: Where’s the other side of it? The real hip-hop reporting that’s being drowned out? Now, the essentials of what hip-hop needs to be recognized for — the people behind the scenes and behind the music and networking of hip-hop — are being drowned out by the drama of hip-hop. There needs to be a balance.

“Shut Yo Mouth” is just the anthem for telling people to shut the f—k up. We’re in a world now where everybody has a soap box and a megaphone, but that doesn’t necessarily mean everyone needs to be heard.

You expressed some concern regarding Kendrick and Drake’s beef when it happened last year, but now that it’s been a little over a year, I’m wondering if you’re still worried about the precedent this sets for rap beefs moving forward?

I’m not worried it’s just that history repeats itself. That was a David and Goliath moment and it played out how it played out, but my worry is when people start being physically hurt. It happens so often, we loose so many good people that way. That doesn’t happen in any other genre of music. The spirit of competition is always welcome in hip-hop. It’s when it starts translating into other things.

What does it mean to be a Kingmaker?

I’m giving you the information you need to make yourself a king or queen in your own right. Some people, this is gonna go over their heads, some people, it’s gonna hit a bullseye. Everybody has a different understanding of life, but this is the best way I could communicate my journey and my experiences in this art form.

What was it like to link back up with Dr. Dre on “Leave Me Alone?”

We were supposed to come out on March 28, and then [“Leave Me Alone”] came in. I was like, “Oh s–t!” It was crazy. Swizz Beatz actually did the track and Dre did co-production, and just to have both of them together on a track, I don’t think that’s ever been done. It was really exciting. To have Dre on the album after all this time means the world to me. He’s my brother, he’s coach.

What was your most memorable studio sessions with Dre over the years?

The first one is always the best. When we did “B–ch Please” together. The insanity of it was being a fan first and then you basically get recruited into The Avengers. I’ll never lose that feeling, because it keeps things in perspective. The direction Dre gives when he’s in the studio only elevates the record, because you rely on his experience. Even if it takes you out of your comfort zone.

Obviously, I have to ask you about Pimp My Ride. The show really became a cultural force of nature on its own. Looking back on it, what was the biggest lesson you learned from that time in your career?

The power of television and how you become essentially part of people’s families. You’re part of people’s childhoods and developments. You’re in their homes. I didn’t realize the impact of that show until I was in Italy at one of the fountains. I was just sitting there, and this little old lady pushes past my security and starts, literally, grabbing my face with no fear. Just pushes past these gigantic dudes, and it dawned on me that people fell in love with my character. It has nothing to do with my music.

How do you think that show impacted pop culture?

Pimp My Ride‘s impact was unexpected — it really was amazing to see it grow into what it was — but what I take away from it was it wasn’t about me. It wasn’t about the cars. It wasn’t about the garage. It was about wish fulfillment, and people having that feeling that, “This could happen to me.” I think that was dope man, I’m glad we were able to put something out that was positive when reality television at the time was really bent on people’s embarrassment.

Still, you have random people pinching your face in public. Was it scary to go from being a rapper to the face of a mainstream movement like Pimp My Ride?

I didn’t realize what was happening. I wanted the world to know me as Xzibit the hardcore punch-him-in-the-face rapper, but life has a weird way of showing you different paths, and it’s up to you to be brave enough to go down it. That’s kinda what I just relied on, and sometimes those paths aren’t very well lit. It’s a risk, but I’ve never been afraid of taking risks. So I just went down that path… I didn’t wanna live with regrets.

Did taking that path negatively impact your rap career?

It took a backseat. I wasn’t able to tour [or] record. It was a constant film schedule, so I knew I had to dedicate time to do [Pimp My Ride] and I did. I’m glad I did it, but on the music side, it definitely was a disconnect. I was doing music, but I wasn’t able to give it the attention that I wanted to give it in order to proceed with it. You can’t be in two places at once, but I still got the same gratification building something outside of music as I did [with] music.

You were also one of the earliest rappers to pivot into the cannabis industry. What are your thoughts on the industry now?

It’s interesting to see people try to own the plant, which you can’t do. What we can do is come with the best versions of it and the most reliable versions of it. When you try to dominate it, and I think that’s this capitalist idea of “cornering the market,” it’s not gonna work. You can’t squeeze out and make it difficult for the people who are part of the culture. Cannabis is culture, it goes hand in hand with so many other things. You can’t corner that. Nobody’s gonna buy “McDonald’s Cannabis.”

What I think needs to happen is that Big Pharma is gonna need to come in when it’s federally legal to partner with the people who have been part of the culture from the beginning. You’re gonna need that bridge. Cannabis is not like alcohol or clothing where you can just slap a hip-hop label on it and put some funky music behind it. People need cannabis to work.

Having dabbled in all these different industries, how do you feel about this point in your rap career? Do you feel any pressure to try and cater Kingmaker to the younger audience or to the algorithms that seem to run music?

People will find me if they find me, but you can’t perform an algorithm. My audience is in front of me at that stage. My algorithm is in live performances, but whatever this album does, I feel really good about getting back in front of my people. I feel really good about the music I’ve created, and let’s let this thing be a good time, man. This is gonna be a really big moment for me. I worked really hard on this record. Still being able to do it at this level is a blessing, I can’t tell you enough how excited I am.