Feddi, born Demetrius Robbins, has a story to tell. It’s punctuated by pain, bound by betrayal, and has as much family drama as a Shakespearean play. But the setting isn’t some far-flung European city ruled by kings and nobility. Feddi is from Zone 1, Westside, Atlanta. An infamous neighborhood where life is a gamble, and even if you play your cards right, you can still lose it all. This is the hood that raised him, nurtured his love of music, and where he made his name in the streets. Feddi’s life story is worthy of a feature film–but his music has a documentary quality. And his story doesn’t just represent him. It also describes the voiceless people that grew up in neighborhoods like Zone 1 all over the world.
Tragedy struck Feddi’s family when he was just in second grade. In a story so gruesome that it was depicted on the TV show ATL Homicides, Feddi’s father was kidnapped, tortured, and ultimately murdered by his own cousins. “I stayed outta school for two years,” he recalls. “Like a whole two years, I didn’t go to school. APD sitting outside my house. Cause ain’t nobody locked up. Don’t nobody know what’s going on.”
Feddi’s dad, known affectionately as Deke the Freak from Cairo Street, was a well-known and respected figure in the neighborhood. So even though he was tragically killed, that respect and love extended to his son after his passing. “I had to live up to the name. But just being his son, it had me being taken care of. That led to me not ever having to worry about where I’m sleeping at. Where I’m gonna eat at. It wasn’t not one house in the neighborhood I couldn’t walk into. If I’m hungry, man, I’m finna to eat. It might be a different house every night,” he recalls.
Even having experienced something so heinous as a kid, Feddi never sought traditional therapy. Instead, he used music as an outlet to release his pain. “I cry the most when I’m making my songs. I might think of a line or something, and my voice might get to shaking while I’m trying to record. Cause I’m talking to myself as I’m going,” says the Atlanta native. “This is my outlet. I’m gonna probably do this for the rest of my life. Even if I’m not putting that out. Just so I can hear myself talk to myself.”
His earliest experience with music was born out of the ingenuity that comes from having to make do with whatever you have. “My friend down the street had a little radio boom box that you was able to press a button to record what you were saying,” remembers Feddi.” We had some instrumentals on the old, old, Xbox. Like the first Xbox ever made.We turned the TV up loud, played the instrumentals off the TV, and put the radio close to the TV so it could pick up the beat and pick up our voice.”
This was one of the first songs he ever made, and even though it wasn’t recorded in a professional studio, it was Feddi’s first clue that he had natural talent. He gained comfort performing in front of larger audiences at school talent shows. He was also surrounded by music in his own home, his mother was an accomplished singer, and his sister tried her hand at rap at a young age, too.
What further solidified the possibility of actually making his musical dreams come true was seeing someone else from his hood behind to make it big a few years later–1017 Records/ Famerica signee Ralo. “I knew it was real when I seen my brother Ralo actually get himself known to be a rapper,” says Feddi. “Me and him grew up together. That’s my brother. Both of us Muslim. And we from the same spot.”
That inspiration didn’t immediately lead to his own success, though. While more and more people began to recognize Feddi as an up-and-coming talent from Atlanta, he ran into
obstacles that kept his music from reaching a larger audience. “I’ve been lied to a million times. Supposed to have been signed a million times. And I turned down a couple offers too.”
Now he’s decided to take his future into his own hands. Along with his family, he started Cairo Street Records, a nod to the hood that raised him. “I’m doing all this shit with all these other folk. Helping them build their thing up. I’m like, let me go back to my own hood and start my own shit. I think I done learned enough and been through enough to know what to do now.”
And through it all, he’s still here. Still rapping. Still hustling. Still putting his pain into his music. Still speaking for those who can’t speak for themselves

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