The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
T.I. still youthful at 40
Hip-hop artist reflects on age, activism and Atlanta.
T.I. needs his shirt. The Atlanta rap mogul is walking around Super Sound Studios, the recording haven he purchased last year, talking into the heel of his phone.
He's wearing a white tank top and blue and green patterned sweats, but the rest of his clothes are locked in the back of his new truck and the spare key is back at the house.
King, his 15-year-old son with a quick smile and shock of hair, offers, in between sips of his peanut butter protein shake, to drive back with an (older) friend to retrieve it.
In the ensuing hour, two of T.I.'s other sons, Domani, 19, and Messiah, 20, cut through the studio, echoes of “Hey, Pops!” in the hallways as if they're in the comfort of home.
The boys are three of T.I.'s seven children — Messiah is the oldest and Heiress, the youngest, is 4 — and even though T.I. turned 40 on Friday, he still carries himself with a youthful vibe that makes him seem more like a cool older brother than “Pops.”
In the nearly 20 years since his studio debut, “I'm Serious,” T.I. — born Clifford Harris and known to friends as “Tip”
— has earned five platinum records (the biggest among them 2008′s “Paper Trail”); been featured on songs with artists ranging from Kanye West to Mariah Carey to Charlie Wilson; starred in more than a dozen movies (“Identity Thief,” “Ant-Man” and its sequel, “Ant-Man and the Wasp,” among them); worked with VH1 for nearly a decade with his reality show franchises “T.I. & Tiny: The Family Hustle” and “Friends and Family Hustle”; and in late 2018, put his legacy and money into Atlanta's Trap Music Museum and Escape Room.
T.I.'s accomplishments have been rightly celebrated and his position as an emissary for his hometown elevated when, during the May protests-turned-riots in downtown Atlanta, he and fellow Atlanta hip-hop luminary Killer Mike joined Mayor Keisha Lance Bottoms on TV to address the city.
And while yes, T.I. and the law have intersected — weapons and drug charges were levied in the first decade of the 2000s and he paid a fine in 2018 for cursing in a public place — maturity has meshed with responsibility.
In between Zoom interviews with radio stations and the recording of his “expediTIously” podcast, T.I. pulls a white Polo T-shirt over his tank and sits. He sips from a clear mug of Earl Grey tea and only glances at his phone once, when the screen alights to a message that distracts him.
He is candid and focused, opinionated and funny, and for an hour, shares his thoughts about the coronavirus, his interaction with the next generation of Atlanta rappers (he just released “Ring” with Young Thug) and his relationship with the community he loves. (The interview was edited for length and clarity. For more of the interview and video, visit the Atlanta Music Scene on ajc.com.)
When we talked in April, you were holed up watching “Tiger King” and not going out much.
What have you been doing since then?
I did a film with Deon Taylor called “Don't Fear” at Lake Tahoe. It's myself, Terrance J, King Bach, Joseph (Sikora) from “Power” and a few young ladies whose work I didn't know, but they were cool. The film is about a group of friends who make their way in the middle of the pandemic to a place that will accept them. It's a horror flick, man.
Were you planning to do another movie?
It was real spontaneous. Deon called me and we've always been looking for an opportunity to work together. This time he was like, I need you to come Monday. I was in L.A. — I just got a new house and was in the middle of decorating. They only needed me six days.
So yes, we shot it in the midst of COVID. Nobody got sick. One person did come up positive at the end, my last day of filming. The test on the way out, we found out the photographer was positive, which made everybody else think we were positive because, full disclosure, we were smoking. I hit a joint after him and when they said he had it … after our next tests I was sure I had it, but I was negative. None of us got it. He had no symptoms, by the way. I don't think it's as contagious as people say. Don't take my word for it and go out without a mask.
Are you worried at all about getting sick?
I'm not worried for me. My wife and I have taken eight or nine tests .. .and around the seventh test, we're still negative, but she's developed antibodies somehow. So if all of her tests have been negative but she now has antibodies … I don't have any antibodies and my test is negative also. That means that she had it, fought it off, developed the antibodies, but didn't give it to me!
It's experiences like that that make me feel like, how much of a coincidence is it that every state is a Republican state that is open and every state that is fighting to stay closed is a Democratic state? It seems a bit politicized to me.
You’re hitting the milestone of turning 40; tell me what you consider your greatest accomplishment and one of your greatest regrets.
My greatest accomplishment is definitely my children. That I was able to accomplish all of this and maintain a healthy relationship with all of my children and that I'm still present consistently in their life. Becoming a pops is the best thing I've ever done.
Now, regret? Hmmm. My greatest regret (is) having ideas and allowing other people's opinion of those ideas to stop me from acting on those ideas. So many times we all have visions, aspirations, thoughts that come to us, and the first thing we do is say something to someone, “I'm thinking about doing this,” and they're all, “Aw, man, you can't do that!” And you know, we absorb that negative energy. That takes us off our path.
Do any of the younger Atlanta rappers ask you for advice?
They might, like, is this deal a good deal? How do you stay with your lady for so long? Somebody might be having some trivial discrepancies that could blow up into some unnecessary (expletive), like what would you do if… But it's always in the form of a casual discussion.
People in the community do look to you, though, as an ambassador. Think back to that night in May, the night that the protests turned violent and you and Killer Mike went to be with the mayor and addressed people. I know you had to talk Mike into going; why did you want him with you?
I knew — and I know — that we both have very unique strengths and abilities to reach and relate to different crowds of people for different reasons. I feel like Mike being a Morehouse man, he appeals to scholars and politicians who may be turned off a little bit of some of the antics or reputation of T.I., you dig? And I feel I kinda relate to cats who feel like Mike might be a little too evolved.
I went up there and spoke passionately. I had nothing prepared. I felt like … somebody had to do something to salvage the part of America we're getting right. I feel like Atlanta is the most evolved, the most advanced, the most diverse … that this is the closest representation of what we're hoping to see across the nation, right? So let's not tear this down, not to the point where we cutting off our nose in spite of our face.
If you look at the next 10 years — what’s left? You’ve got music, you’ve got the studio, film, TV. What would you still like to do?
I think telling more stories, through our lens, about our people. Directing, writing and producing. I want to spend more time trying to create opportunities that allow others to flourish, especially my children. Nobody is ever remembered after they die because of all the great things they did for themselves. If you really want your name to be immortal, you'll only be remembered for what you did for others. Nobody ever talks about what kind of car Martin Luther King drove. Nobody speaks about what kind of watch Malcolm X wore. Nobody talks about what kind of house Muhammad Ali lived in. All of these things that we do for ourselves, it may please us momentarily, but in order to be remembered after you leave this Earth, you gotta work on what you're doing for others.