“I can’t listen to music if they ain’t saying nothing, it’s got to be deep,” says the artist, who spent the last few years writing the album T.F.M.G. (Tax Free Money Gang), which has 12 tracks that tell a story.
“This album really touches everything,” he says. “It touches trapping, street shit, love, heartbreak, backstabbing, coming up, the feeling of leveling up career-wise, music-wise, every emotion, the things I’ve gone through, my personal life experiences. I hand-picked these songs because it’s all shit out of my life. All shit that meant something to me.”
Recognizable by his gold grill and face tattoos, oftentimes covered with a ski mask, STKZ has never been known to open up. He shakes his head, reliving the making of the album, which took place over a difficult time period for him.
“Last two or three years, I’ve lost probably 10 people,” he says. “I’ve had death after death after death. I’m talking about close people I fuck with dying, damn near all my homeboys in the last two years been locked up or dead.” STKZ lists on his fingers names of those he’s lost.
“Nobody could relate to me. I was numb, death just never goes away. This album, it’s also venting, getting shit off my chest, ’cause I don’t have too many people to talk to.”
He touches on pain even closer to home.
“My little brother was on hospice. You know, he’s special needs. He has cerebral palsy, and they’re saying he’s getting better, but that’s been hard,” he says. “My brother, just being around him, he’s so pure, no sins. My mom did a lot, because my dad wasn’t there, and he’d use my brother to get close to me.” STKZ describes his close relationship with his mother, who raised the two of them alone, and how his independence derived from striving to be strong for his family, who had struggles of their own.
“I didn’t even realize how I was coping with shit, and it might not have been in the right way, but I was able to put some of this through the music,” STKZ says. “I don’t got nobody to talk to, type shit. And most people when you do are waiting for what they can say or what they’re going through, so it’s like, what’s the point, you know?”
This hardcore disposition carried through his life, creating the tough individual represented today. His knack for coping through writing provided him an area where he can vent, a sense of reprieve."This album, it’s also venting, getting shit off my chest, ’cause I don’t have too many people to talk to.” – SMOKESTKZ
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“I don’t need to be around people,” he says. “A therapist, all they’re doing is repeating shit back to you and kind of making you figure out what your problem is. I can talk to myself. I know exactly what the fuck is wrong with me, it’s just thinking and doing, and whether or not I can stick to it.”
This is where perfectionism has come into play for STKZ, who has always been insistent on maintaining high standards for his products, which is apparent in the clean quality of his music and videos, as well as his fashion brand’s use of quality materials. With this album, he found that internal quality that makes music rewarding to the writer, and consequentially to the listener.
In the past, STKZ, who served time on a weapons charge, held a mentality more aligned with a concept he learned from being locked up: “Why waste my breath? I could lead you to the water, that don’t mean you gonna’ drink.” He now sees the therapeutic nature of self-expression, saying, “You might see green, I might see purple. That’s cool.”
With a stoic presence and generally serious demeanor, SMOKESTKZ let himself be vulnerable for the first time on this project, talking about family in “Dear Bro,” changing morals in “Added Expense” and heartbreak in “Winter in October,” with its lyrics:
“When I’m high, they wanna try
And bring me lower.
After everything I did for you,
You stabbed me in my shoulder, and that’s OK.”
While his old music might have maintained his coolness, lashing out over backstabbing in pursuit of revenge, STKZ allowed himself to dig deeper into his emotions, rather than just letting off steam.
“I was never able to be vulnerable,” he says. “On this album, I was thinking about vulnerable parts of me. The shit where it’s hard to figure out the way to say it. Like, I’m not fucking perfect. I got shit wrong with me. This is what’s going on with me, this is how I feel about it.”
Whether it was death, after losing so many close to him, or life, with the birth of his first daughter who he says “saved [his] life,” it’s clear in his lyrics that the artist’s mindset has evolved.
“I don’t like to call myself just a rapper. I think that’s too limited,” STKZ says. “It’s easy to rhyme some bullshit about drugs, bitches, but saying something that everyday people go through, like actual shit, that’s tough.”
