With a conversational flow and soulful instrumentation, me pays homage to the fly ones....

THOT

Born into a hip-hop tribe in an inner city community surrounded by drugs and violence, me was destined to be the fire MC of the family.  Many people forget that rapping is just a part of the hip-hop culture.  Besides the emcee, hip-hop is defined by three other key ingredients: the DJ, breakdancing, and graffiti art.

me’s father DJ Sun is a a true master of the wheels of steel with an excellent blend of artistic and technical skills. That muthafucka can scratch a record on a turntable like he's Jimi Hendrix scratching on a guitar.  An avid music collector of vintage and rare records, his knowledge of music is nothing short of encyclopedic.  

Mama Rain dances and is in better shape than anyone you know. And when she dances people watch.  Melody in motion, she plays the music with the movement of her body.  Ballet, tap, strippin, modern--but breaking is her true gift.  Toprock, downrock, power moves, freezes--mama can still b-girl with the best of them.

Uncle Doodlebug is so good at creating art from a spray paint can that he once painted a huge black Mona Lisa on the side of an ugly warehouse building covered in gang graffiti. The owner liked the graffiti art so much that he paid Doodle to paint murals on five of his other properties.  

Then came me.  His  folks said that he was born to MC.  Long before me  uttered his first words, he would constantly use his tongue, lips, and palette to make sounds.  Oohs and aahs and seemingly beatboxing and babbling bars.  Soon those sounds became words.  “Mama” and “dada” turned into words me picked up along the way listening to his extended family.  Before long all he wanted to do was hear his words come out in rhyme.