photo: lexiou wescudi · cc by-sa 2.0 ↗Jarad Higgins grew up in a Homewood, Illinois household where his mother, Carmella Wallace, was too religious and conservative to let him hear hip-hop, so his outside influences arrived sideways -- through Tony Hawk's Pro Skater and Guitar Hero, which slipped him Billy Idol, Black Sabbath, and Fall Out Boy years before he heard a rap verse he was allowed to keep. He began recording as JuicetheKidd in 2015 and signed with fellow Chicagoan Lil Bibby's Grade A Productions in 2017. The breakthrough came almost by accident: producer Nick Mira looped a guitar figure sampled from Sting's "Shape of My Heart," and Higgins built "Lucid Dreams" around it, a diamond-certified confession of heartbreak and addiction that hit No. 2 in 2018. He died of an accidental overdose in December 2019, six days past 21, having turned his mother's restrictions and a borrowed guitar sample into the blueprint for a genre.
Same South Side blocks, and by his own account the only rapper who mattered: "When I first started recording, I was really inspired by Chief Keef," Juice told Elevator Magazine. "That was basically my favorite rapper, still is... I have my moments where he's all I play. He's like one of my biggest inspirations." It wasn't nostalgia. Keef's slurred, half-sung hooks over minimal trap beats gave Juice a template for turning pain into melody instead of narrative. Keef noticed the debt too: after Juice's death, he broke a long public silence with four words -- "juice knew I rocked w em."
listen forListen to how little either song asks of its beat. "Love Sosa" rides one filtered melody and a hi-hat that barely varies, leaving all the motion to Keef's blurred, half-sung ad-libs riding loose over the pocket. Juice runs the same math on "All Girls Are The Same": a two-note piano loop, drums that stay out of the way, and a vocal that slides between rapping and singing mid-line rather than committing to either. Neither track is built for complexity -- both are built so a voice can carry the melody the beat refuses to.
Fall Out Boy was one of the only bands Juice's conservative, religious mother allowed in the house -- Wikipedia's account of his childhood names them specifically, alongside Billy Idol and Blink-182, as rock exposure that predated any rap he was permitted to hear. That early foothold outlasted the household rules: in 2024, five years after Juice's death, his estate finally delivered a collaboration both acts had wanted while he was alive -- "Best Friend," with Fall Out Boy's Patrick Stump on the hook, released on the posthumous album The Party Never Ends.
listen for"Sugar, We're Goin Down" is peak mid-2000s Fall Out Boy: Patrick Stump's voice cracking upward into falsetto over churning, distorted guitar, a hook built to be shouted back. On "Best Friend," that same voice -- older, steadier -- shares a chorus with Juice's melodic rap-sung verses, guitar textures folded into trap drums instead of punk ones. The pairing makes the lineage audible directly: the influence and its source trading the same hook, twenty years apart.
"At a point, Kid Cudi was all I'd listen to," Juice told Billboard -- real praise from an artist who named dozens of influences in nearly every interview he gave. Cudi's confessional, half-sung hooks over spare production had already made rap about depression and isolation before Juice picked up a mic. The two met only once, backstage at Coachella in 2019, and Cudi was stunned the reverence ran his way too. "When we met at Coachella I was surprised u were even a fan," he wrote after Juice's death that December. "It hurts we never got to work together."
listen forCudi's "Day 'N' Nite" opens on a wordless, moaning hum before he raps a syllable -- the hook is the mood, not the lyric. Juice borrows the move to open "Used To": a hummed melody rides in first, unhurried, before the verse even starts. Billboard's critics later called it a hum "that would make Kid Cudi proud," and the debt runs deeper than the vocal tic -- both songs let a wordless melody carry emotional weight before either artist commits to a single word.