After spending so much time trying to find my sound, I never really locked into one specific style. I stayed versatile, creating over any beat that inspired me — whether it was from my friends’ recommendations or instrumentals from songs I already loved.
At that time, I worked on beats like Notorious B.I.G.’s “I Got A Story To Tell,” Geto Boys’ “Mind Playing Tricks,” and Wu-Tang Clan’s “New Wu.” My versatility was both a gift and a challenge. I could rap over almost anything, but I didn’t have one sound that truly defined me yet.
I had an ongoing vision — I wanted to create a series of projects. Around four mixtapes were in the works at one point, but I only managed to push out a second one. The rest never made it past rough drafts and scattered ideas.
Even though I knew I had talent, I never looked at rap as something that could become successful. It was still a hobby to me, something I did for expression rather than expectation. Eventually, that mindset — and the lack of real momentum — started to wear me down.
I went quiet. I stopped recording, stopped writing, stopped being active in my music altogether. My creativity never disappeared, but my drive went silent. Every now and then, I’d post a clip or a freestyle because of my circle of friends who kept pushing me to share something. But deep down, I didn’t imagine I’d ever come back to creating seriously.
That silence became a long pause in my story — the space between who I was becoming and who I didn’t yet know I could be.