The Quiet Riot.
With Oxymoron–ScHoolboy Q‘s major label debut album–debuting at #1 on the Billboard 200 last month, the Figg Side rep and mellowed out member of Top Dawg Entertainment’s wildly talented Black Hippy foursome began his quest to become rap’s featured gangster rap juggernaut, and with the versatility he exhibits–”Break The Bank” versus “Groovline Pt. 2″, for instance–there’s reason to believe Mr. Quincy Hanley has just embarked on what will be a lengthy and impactful second leg of his career.
So, with open arms, The Source Magazine welcomes ScHoolboy Q to cover 2-of-2 of our new issue (#262), his first solo cover ever. In his cover story, School Daze, Q opens up about the writing process of Oxymoron, being overly scrutinized by the media, and the different facets of the rap game he thinks are holding the genre back. Enjoy a couple excerpts, and pick up our new issue when it hits newsstands this Thursday (April 10).
On “Prescription/Oxymoron”, and putting so much of his personal life in his music:
It’s a heart-wrenching listening experience, one that Q admits is so painstakingly based off real-life events, he hasn’t listened to it since he made it. “Every bit of it is real. So real I never listened to it. Never heard it. I mean, I made it [laughs], but that was it. I perform it every night, but I never listen to it because it’s too much. A part of me, like, kicks myself in the ass ‘cause my daughter was there. But a part of it makes me proud because I’m not that type of person no more. I’m, like, one of the best fathers in the world, you get what I’m saying?” He stammered a bit, and I thought of changing the subject, but his passion overrode my next question completely.
Me: What do you think—
Q: I’m not scared to put my real life in there like a lot of rappers. Five, six albums in and you still don’t know nothing about their life. You just know they rap good. They crack, but you still don’t know, like, who is this n***a grandma, who’s his uncle, what block he come from. How much was the sodas when he was a kid, you know what I’m saying? N***as don’t put that type of s**t in their music. Everybody’s a mobster now. They got the Vaseline, they got the dope, they got the burner, like who you got the burner from though? How many shots were in the burner? When the cops came what did you do with the burner, you get what I’m saying? What’s your momma name? What’s your homie name, where’s the park that you caught a fade at? Nobody’s going in depth with it like me. Only other n***a doing it like that is YG.
On what he hates about the current state of the rap game:
At this point, the conversation has shifted so many times, and spanned so many different eras of Q’s career, I thought it was time to get his updated views on the current state of things. In the past year, he’s spent so much time closely guarding the intricate details of his album, and the inner workings of his tightly knit TDE family, he’s rarely had the opportunity to be candid about anything, which, quite frankly, is blasphemy. Candid is the only manner Q knows. Casual banter about the current state of rap—which ScHoolboy thinks is “getting out of hand” because so many rappers are worried about rapping on Mike Will Made It-sounding trap beats rather than focusing on creating authentic product—led to a Macklemore reference, which I was trying to avoid in an effort to ebb the flow of ubiquitous mainstream headlines becoming the focal point of our conversation, but in relation to Q’s own transgression, this particular Macklemore conversation became increasingly interesting.
Q: I don’t sound like nobody, bro. From beats to ad-libs to verses, nobody. Even the way I dress. I’m the first Crip n***a you ever seen in Givenchy and Balmain.
Me: Mmhm.
Q: And rappers, they know who to say s**t about.
Uh-oh.
Q: Like, all these rappers talking s**t about Macklemore because of the text, but they wouldn’t be saying that s**t if I sent the text out. Or if Maino sent the text out. Bruh, if Maino sent the text out and put it on Instagram, n***as would be quiet. They wouldn’t say nothing.
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