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Watch ’s 2016 XXL Freshman Interview and Freestyle By: XXL Staff June 20, 2016

Once an artist claims to be better than both Biggie and Tupac, hip-hop fans take notice. Kodak Black did just that during his interview for his spot on the 2016 XXL Freshman Class cover. “I’m bigger than Tupac and Biggie,” the 19-year-old Pompano Beach, Fla. native states.

Earlier this month, Kodak dropped the fittingly titled , .I.G. Pac, a collection of tracks showcasing his growth since dropping previous projects like Project Baby, Heart of the Projects and Institution. It’s obvious the “SKRT” rapper knows a thing or two about staying productive considering he’s remained consistent with new material. “People just see like the shine, they don’t see the grind,” Kodak shares.

Anyone familiar with his solo efforts or his guest appearances on tracks like ’s “Lockjaw” know Kodak has a unique place in when it comes to his presence on the mic. “I got this voice from the lord I guess,” he continues. “I could just ride the beat any type of way, switch it up on it, come back with some other shit.”

Songs like “Slayed,” off Lil B.I.G. Pac, serve as an example of Kodak’s delivery. Before the tape was out for the masses to hear, the Snipergang leader decided to use those same lyrics from the track for his 2016 XXL Freshman freestyle. “Hell yeah they call me Kodak but I ain’t come to take no picture/So icy, make it blizzard, and the I’m sippin’ sizzurp,” he rhymes. Looks like Kodak was feeling the vibe so much he eventually turned those bars into what we now know as “Slayed” featuring .

Watch Kodak Black open up about his movement above and witness his lyrical style and behind-the- scenes photos below.

January 28, 2016 Meet Kodak Black, America's Hardest Working Teenage Rapper With visceral bars and famous fans, a high-school-aged storyteller busts out of .

At 15 or 16, he can't remember which, Kodak Black collected some cash while working up and down the East Coast in a blue Toyota. He'd rather not elaborate on the specifics of the job, but he says he spent the earnings on a precious-metal dental job. "Some people said I was too young, but I went to the dentist, had my money, and sat in the chair," he tells me when we meet in Manhattan just before Christmas. "I had my routes," he says. As if to prove it, he shows me that the word “ROADRUNNER” is inked across his chest. In the last year, Kodak Black's growling street hit “” and the more melancholic “Skrt,” both off his 2014 mixtape Heart of the Projects, provided the one-two punch the 18-year-old needed to break out of Broward County, Florida and win over some influential fans. Perhaps most notable among them is , who dropped “Shoulda Woulda” on OVO Radio and listened to “Skrt” in his private jet. This sudden attention has given Kodak the confidence to keep going, but he maintains that he is a lot more than the sum of his co-signs. “Drake ain’t make me," he says. Kodak Black, born Dieuson Octave, started writing raps when he was just a pre-teen in Pompano Beach, a mid-sized Florida city 45 minutes north of Miami’s neon glow. His outsized swagger earned him the affection of the older guys, plus entry to the local studio. “When I first started, I was about killing and doing all that other shit, even though I wasn’t killing and all that shit,” he says. “When I was younger, that’s where my head was at. I knew I was going to be slugged up, my whole mouth gold. I knew I was going to be eating good, that I was going to be outchea.”

Although Kodak rapped about what he wanted for himself, he didn't always believe that his music would get him there. “I felt like, this is not going to work: look where I'm from, I don't know nobody, I'm too young," he says. “My dad wasn't in my life, he couldn't buy me shit. My mom, her money going was straight to the bills. So I was like, fuck it, I got to get my own money. At least if I had money in my pocket, I could get some food when I'm hungry.” Trouble seemed to find Kodak early on. In fifth grade he got kicked out of school for fighting. He caught his first punishable-by-life charge for carjacking when he was in middle school, and he spent much of his teen years bouncing in and out of juvenile detention centers. And last October, he was pulled over while on his way to New York for CMJ, and was arrested on a warrant that reportedly included charges of robbery, assault, and kidnapping (a representative for Kodak denied to comment on the current status of these charges). He spent his 18th birthday in jail, and while waiting to be released on bail, he read about himself in XXL magazine.

Kodak speaks candidly when I ask about his brushes with the law. “I kept a clean heart through everything, and my intentions wasn’t bad,” he says. “I didn’t just freestyle it. At the end, it’s about bread.” He is wary, though, that trouble might affect his present blessings, which include a new house for his mother that he bought using money from shows, and a rumored deal with . The night before our chat, he payed a show inside intimate Brooklyn nightclub Good Room, and today he seems genuinely amused by the fact that he has fans in New York. “I just be taking all that in like—it get better than this shit, don’t even dwell on it,” he tells me. “I’m trying to go away to Switzerland.”

Though his taste in beats is pretty varied, when Kodak raps you know exactly who you are hearing. His voice is pinched but tuneful, sliding easily into sing-. It's a manner that's more resonant of Lil’ Boosie—who Kodak reveres, in part because Boosie was Youngest of The Camptoo—than hip-hop’s current class of crooners. “I got the type of voice where I can hit a tone if I want, but I ain’t trying to be or Future," he says. On Christmas day, Kodak released Institution, his third tape in as many Decembers. It’s a sturdy project that finds him ruminating on his past, money and fame, and long-distance love. It's 24 tracks, features exactly zero guests, and was made the same way he has always makes his music—with mostly - solicited beats. But that’s not to say things aren’t changing: and have been “hollering,” he says, and he recently made an as-yet-unreleased track with Mike WiLL Made-It and called “Real Chill.” On “If You Ain’t Ridin,” a downtempo track off Institution, Kodak tells his life story as such: Went to school got expelled, jumped off the porch I was 12/ I ain’t goin back to jail, no more thuggin, I swear. Spend some time with Kodak, and you’ll start to believe that he means it. He’s focused on music, but he’s got a fallout plan, too. “If rap don’t work, I’m going to go to the dentist and get all my golds taken out and go back to boxing,” he says, peeling his lips past his gums into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen. Or maybe, Kodak says, he will pick up a trade like brick masonry, or get his commercial driver license so he can drive big rigs up and down the Eastern Corridor. He already knows the roads, anyways.

July 21, 2016 Why Kodak Black's American Story Is So Important

On Lil B.I.G. Pac, the Florida rapper shares a black perspective that's just as valuable as Kendrick's.

In these #woke times, the hip-hop artists who receive the most critical acclaim are often the ones who spit some sort of redemption rap or whose politics are clearly delineated. By many accounts, one of the most on-the-pulse hip-hop works pertaining to the black American experience in recent years was ’s To Pimp a Butterfly — a beautiful, intricate effort that lends a comforting touch to black angst on the issues of police brutality, the need for self-love, and the continued trauma of living within a black body. But, while invaluable in its own right, Kendrick’s perspective doesn’t span the entirety of the anxieties that being black in America can often spawn.

Much diversity exists among black Americans. But while artists can be held to rigid standards when it comes to who can be considered a suitable voice for young black America, I’d argue we have a dire need for multiple voices, and no room to dismiss any. One essential emerging voice is Kodak Black, the teenage Florida rapper. Take a close listen to his recent tape, Lil B.I.G. Pac, and you’ll find him addressing a number of issues that have concerned global black communities of late: redemption, mental health, self-care, and the willingness to share an occasional sense of helplessness in a way that’s more descriptive than it is prescriptive. At just 19, Kodak articulates the constant state of affliction that living in a poverty-stricken environment can mean. He makes emotionally intelligent observations in a manner reminiscent of teenage artists of the ‘90s, such as and Lil’ Wayne, whose voices were valued as genuine illustrations of life in their corners of America. Maybe the unfiltered of his music is due to the fact that Kodak is a first- generation American, the child of single Haitian mother. Maybe his nerve comes from having to skip much of his adolescence as a means to survive in the projects of Pompano Beach, Florida. Whatever the case, Kodak’s playful demeanor in the interviews he’s given so far shouldn’t distract from the lyrical and emotional complexity of his four- catalog — especially his latest offering.

“When it comes to who can be considered a suitable voice for young black America, I’d argue we have a dire need for multiple voices, and no room to dismiss any.”

Taking in Lil B.I.G. Pac reminds me of a 2005 book by researcher and educator Joy Degruy, titled Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome: America’s Legacy Of Enduring Injury and Healing. Degruy uses six years of field study in places where people of African descent were colonized (including parts of the U.S., the Caribbean, and South Africa) to liken the effects of systemic oppression to those of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. She lists symptoms that include: a feeling of foreshortened future, diminished interest or participation in significant activities, outbursts of anger, difficulty staying and falling asleep, and feelings of detachment from others. Degruy points out that these symptoms were never collectively addressed by the U.S. government and, as a result, the fallout from that trauma is ongoing.

On the Lil B.I.G. Pac song “Can I,” Kodak runs through, in a lullaby fashion, many of the uncertainties that some descendents of colonised black people constantly replay in their heads. He wonders whether he’ll be around long enough to truly father his kid. He tells himself that once he attains success, people will be waiting to snatch it right back from him. He asks himself whether he should run in response to a woman telling him that she loves him. While none of these are foreign concepts in rap, when measured up against Degruy’s work, it’s not hard to understand why they become conventions in the music. In terms of its sound, Lil B.I.G. Pac doesn’t lean on much of what’s become expected from Southern rap. Instead of rampant 808 drum sounds or key play popularized by producers like Zaytoven, Kodak borrows inspiration from the pulsating, echoey, bounce-building early music made by the rappers he’s been likened to, such as and Boosie Bad Azz.

Like those guys before him, Kodak hits energetic highs and permits himself moments of helplessness. Mid-head bob on “Purp,” in a low register, Kodak delivers the line, Lord knows I’m blessed but sometimes I feel cursed. Later, with infectious force, Philly’s PnB Rock delivers the hook on “Too Many Years,” a somber look into America’s prison system. The song carries an especially heavy weight, given the fact that Kodak is currently in prison, facing previous charges of robbery, false imprisonment, and marijuana possession. Why we keep on falling victim?, Kodak asks. Then there’s “Today,” which I’d call a self-care jingle, but one devoid of luxuries like naps and spa time. Instead, all Kodak wants is to be able to walk around freely with his gun concealed, shop without interruptions, and not be Kodak Black, the rapper who has to always take pictures with fans and perform in front of crowds.

Since bubbling online and receiving an Drake co-sign in 2015, Kodak’s legitimacy as a rapper has continuously been questioned by hip-hop fans across social media. When he made the cut for XXL’s annual Freshman list last month, the criticism accelerated. Beneath Kodak’s Freshman freestyle video are YouTube commenters describing him as a “trash rapper” and praying for the return of “real MCs.” These are criticisms that effectively breeze by, or totally disregard, the details within his work that reflect hip-hop’s long history of environmental storytelling. For the same way we need tracks like Kendrick’s joyous “Alright” and Beyoncé’s emotionally commanding “Freedom” to boost our morale, we also need Kodak Black. And Future, and , and anyone else whose music we love to bounce to but simultaneously write off as detriments to our collective progression because they rap about popping pills, womanizing, and shooting guns. While those topics can make listeners squeamish, they are a reality of the struggle that many black people experience in this country. It’s unfair to expect every person who’s raised in environments where such things are normalized to rise above them in one miraculous swoop. Each aforementioned artist’s music has value because of what it lends to the narrative of our plights and triumphs. “Alright” and “Freedom” wouldn’t feel so damned good at protests, concerts, or in our living rooms if there wasn’t a mournful “Too Many Years” or a dark “No Flocking” as a counter balance. There’s a long history of trauma that has led to the experiences of rappers like Kodak and there will be no true victory or liberation until we value our whole story.

June 1, 2016 49 New You Need In Your Life This June

The best new pop, rock, country, and rap for June, in no particular order

BEST SONGS OF 2016 (SO FAR) By: Pigeons and Planes staff (Alex Siber) June 22, 2016

Kodak Black – “Skrt”

The life cycle of "Skrt" says more about it than anything else. Released in 2014 as a part of Kodak Black's Heart Of The Projects mixtape, the song earned Kodak more than a few new fans.

But it wasn't until the song received support from OVO Sound Radio last December, however, that it really spread. An official release soon followed in February, and the months since have seen Black become the center of attention. Vicious production and keen-eyed observations delivered with a youthful voice make this slow-builder a true standout of the year thus far. —Alex Siber

17 Best of 2016 So Far By: XXL Staff June 21, 2016

Kodak Black Lil Big Pac

Kodak Black's fourth mixtape is more colorful than any other project he's released to date. Sprinkled with brighter synths that were mostly absent on his last mixtape Institution, this new project shows a brighter side to the 19-year-old Florida rapper, despite the fact that he was incarcerated at the time of the tape's release. His music is marked with a dogged optimism, but he brings Philly crooner PnB Rock on to "Too Many Tears" to tear through the melancholy, while the closing track "Blood Sweat Tears Revenge" finds him dismissing naysayers who claim he's fallen off. Kodak's also got remarkable wisdom for his age, however subtly he communicates it, so there are tons of jewels to pick up here if you're willing to let them set in. - M.W.

February 2, 2016 12 Artists You Need to Know About Immediately

Here at The FADER, we've always prided ourselves on looking down the road. We aspire to provide a deeper look at the innovators whose work reflects the ever-changing music landscape. Here, we've rounded up a few of the artists we've put on for recently, many of which were featured in our long- running GEN F section. There are some talented noisemakers here—like , a rapper from , and Tricot, a Japanese-born rock band. It's an eclectic crew, sure, but they've all got one thing in : it's only the beginning for them.

1. Kodak Black

Kodak Black is a high-school-aged rapper from Florida whose turning heads with his distinct growl and indefatigable work ethic. He's found famous fans in Drake and , but he's determined to prove he's more than just the sum of his co-signs. Read Kodak Black's GEN F profile.

January 8, 2016 20 Artists to Watch Out for in 2016

Put these hopefuls on your radar this year.

Free Kodak! That's what I scream whenever I hit play on "Pelican" from his sophomore tape, Heart of the Projects. The teenage trap star was recently taken into custody for a laundry list of charges then posted his $26,000 bail, making him one of the few spitters who live what they rap. Lil Kodak reps Florida, but most of his best songs give off that late-'90s Cash Money vibe, and just like the New Orleans imprint, he has the propensity to construct hits. One song in particular rose from the underground thanks to alleged wave rider Drake. Once the Toronto rapper posted a clip of himself dancing to “SKRT,” everyone rushed to see what the big fuss was about. That video has nearly 3 million views on YouTube. “No Flockin’” was the first of his songs to pop in the streets, though, and as of right now, it has a little over 5 million views. He’s on his way if he manages to stay out of trouble. Free Kodak. —Angel Diaz

December 30, 2015 ‘Bout To Blow: After A Successful 2015, Keep Your Eye On These Spittas In 2016

Kodak Black

Pompano Beach, Fla.

Why: Kodak Black’s real-life stories about the frustration and agony that comes with being a fatherless child of Pompano Beach, Florida's Golden Acres projects is the stuff that hip-hop was made of. Black's authenticity in real life (read: his kidnapping, robbery and assault charges) and on wax are very reminicent of a young Boosie Badazz, who just so happens to be Black's favorite rapper. Black's local buzz caught flame with his 2013 project Project Baby. He capitalized off Project Baby with his 2014 effort Heart of the Projects, which contains his street hit and Drake favorite "SKRT." Black concluded 2015 with his steller Institution effort. With KD's uncanny charisma and heartfelt rhymes, he's arguably the most promising up-and-coming rapper in the game right now.

Projects: Project Baby, Heart of the Projects, Institution

Dope Song: “Skrt,” “Skrilla," "In Too Deep"

Team: Dollaz N Deals

Soundcloud: Kodak Black

January 15, 2016 The Break Presents: Kodak Black

Kodak Black

After releasing Heart of the Projects, Kodak Black made himself one of the most sought after young MCs. The rapper from Pompano Beach, Fla. became a national hit after “SKRT” blew up. Even before Drake was seen dancing to the the song, Kodak Black was already a name many fans were discovering. With the legal problems and beefs behind him, Kodak is looking to capitalize after dropping his impressive mixtape Institution last December.

“I came up with the name for Institution when I was detained in Virginia,” He told XXL while in . “While I was in Virginia, I was writing down songs then I came up with the mixtape name. Institution is like an everyday thing that goes on, stuck in one mind. It can be mental health, mental illness, substance abuse or work, what you wake up and do every day.”

Get to know Kodak Black here on The Break.—Emmanuel C.M.

Name: Kodak Black

Age: 18

Hometown: The projects from Pompano Beach, Fla. I grew up listening to: . He wasn’t really my generation but I grew up around older people so I branched off of Nas. Boosie because when I was coming up ‘Youngest of the Camp’ Lil Boosie dropped that mixtape. I was always the youngest one in the camp around other people. I fucks with B.G. too.

I was in elementary school when I wrote my first rap. But I had stopped rapping. [I thought] “I ain’t never going to blow,” so I was in the streets. I caught a PBL charge, punishable by life charge, so I just said fuck it, and I just started writing raps again. Then when I went to trial, it went good so I was like fuck it. I just stuck to rap.

My style has been compared to: I don’t like when people compare me to nobody. I would describe my music as project music. I make real music. I don’t like to boast about myself but I make real music. Everybody else makes songs and tracks, but my music I just come straight up with it.

Something people don’t know about me: I played football and basketball. My little brother playing football right now, he’s a stud. I be training him in the backyard. He plays running back. Every game he score a touchdown, you can see it on . But me, I used to play cornerback and slot receiver. I like defense because I like to tackle. I like to hit you low, at the ankles.

My goal in hip-hop is: Shit. I feel like in this rap shit you can’t really try to go for too long; bitches try and get at you. Then when you try to stay at it for too long, it looks like there’s an image you’re trying to put on. Over here ain’t no image. I’m just going to make my couple mill and fall back, fuck the fame.

I’m the next: Kodak Black, just watch me do my thing. Whatever I do, just watch how far I take it.

Follow Kodak Black on Twitter and SoundCloud.

Standout: “SKRT”