photo: fox sports · cc by 3.0 ↗Chancelor Bennett grew up in West Chatham on Chicago's South Side, the son of a City Hall aide and a state attorney's-office employee, singing in his grandmother's church choir before he ever picked up a mic. Suspended from Jones College Prep for marijuana possession his senior year, he used the ten days off to record his 2012 debut mixtape, '10 Day,' then broke through with 2013's woozier, funnier 'Acid Rap.' What set him apart was less the rapping than the refusal: no label, no singles for sale, just free mixtapes stitched from gospel, jazz, and Chicago juke that treated joy and grief as neighbors. 'Coloring Book' (2016) made that gospel-rap fusion explicit and won a Grammy for a project that was never for sale — a self-released model as influential as the music itself.
Chance has said 'Through the Wire' was the song that turned him into a hip-hop listener at all: hearing it on Hyde Park radio, not yet knowing it was a local artist, he spent the next two hours trying to find out who made it. 'I was so into the soul sample,' he told Interview Magazine in 2013, 'the high-pitched — it was just some different shit that I wasn't used to.' That fascination with a chopped, sped-up soul vocal sitting at the emotional center of a rap song — plus the hometown pride of discovering Kanye was from Chicago too — became a blueprint Chance carried into his own chipmunk-soul, choir-adjacent production.
listen forPlay 'Through the Wire' against 'Cocoa Butter Kisses' — both ride a warm, pitched-up vocal sample that functions almost like a second singer, with the rapper's plainspoken verses laid conversationally on top rather than fighting the loop for space.
'I grew up in the church,' Chance told Chicago's WGCI in 2014, crediting his grandmother with keeping him there and naming Kirk Franklin — the artist who proved a full choir, a clap-along groove, and an unmistakably contemporary, hip-hop-adjacent pocket could sit inside gospel without diluting it — as a direct influence and a 'musical genius.' That template of a joyous, hip-hop-tempo choir arrangement built to testify rather than just accompany runs straight through 'Coloring Book,' which critics called the first true gospel-rap mixtape.
listen forSet Kirk Franklin's clap-and-keys 'Melodies From Heaven' beside Chance's 'Blessings' — both stack a full choir over a bright, uptempo groove built for a call-and-response, treating praise as something you dance to, not just recite.
Wayne's late-2000s run of free mixtapes ('Da Drought 3,' 'No Ceilings') rewrote what a mixtape was for — not a demo but the main event, stuffed with stream-of-consciousness wordplay and ad-libbed asides. Chance took that mentality further, never selling a single track and building 'Acid Rap' and 'Coloring Book' entirely as free, deliberately un-commercial releases meant to build a direct fanbase rather than chase a label deal; he brought Wayne on as a guest for 'No Problem,' pairing his own giddy ad-lib habit with the rapper who normalized it.
listen forCompare Wayne's dense, off-the-cuff punning on 'A Milli' with Chance's hyper, ad-lib-stuffed 'No Problem' — both pile associative wordplay and vocal interjections ('yeuh,' 'woo') on top of a sparse beat until the voice itself becomes the main instrument.