By the time Clifford Joseph Harris Jr. signed to Arista as a teenager and became T.I., he had already spent years serving customers in what he called simply 'the trap.' Selling dope, he told XXL, was 'the only way that I knew to provide sufficient funds' when 'you don't see a doctor, a lawyer, a teacher' in the neighborhood you grow up in. His 2001 debut, I'm Serious, flopped, and he nearly quit; instead he changed labels, kept the trap as both subject and title, and opened 2003's Trap Muzik daring anyone to mistake it for entertainment: 'This ain't no album, this ain't no game.' The record made him the self-declared King of the South, a title he had to defend to the artists who taught him the job.
For the song that would put his idols on the record, T.I. skipped the biggest name he could book and called the ones who mattered most: the Memphis duo 8Ball & MJG and the Port Arthur, Texas group UGK. 'So 8Ball, MJG, Bun B, were major figures in the culture,' he said. 'They cultivated my career and they were some of the first Southern lyricists.' His manager, Jason Geter, put it more bluntly: 'Tip loves Pimp C.' Bun B, one half of UGK, ended up rapping alongside 8Ball and MJG on 'Bezzle' — the co-sign T.I. had wanted since before he had a deal.
listen forUGK's 'One Day' rides a slow, gospel-tinged groove under verses about mortality and survival — the unhurried Southern pocket Bun B and Pimp C helped define. On 'Bezzle,' T.I. drops into that same loping tempo and lets Bun B rap a verse of his own: the artist he wanted the nod from is right there on the track, in the same laid-back cadence he learned from.
Years before he had a deal, a teenage T.I. was already OutKast's evangelist. 'I brought Outkast on a CD up to New York,' he told NPR, 'when New Yorkers knew nothing of Outkast — back when it was just "Player's Ball" off the LaFace compilation.' New Yorkers weren't impressed, but he kept believing. By Trap Muzik, he named the group outright as one reason Atlanta rap had anything to say at all: 'We had OutKast, Goodie Mob, So So Def... None of us would be able to step out here and do what we was doing if it weren't for them.'
listen forOutKast's 'Player's Ball' rides a loose, live-band groove — horns, a lazy backbeat, vowels stretched into a thick Atlanta drawl — the very single T.I. says he carried into rooms where nobody had heard of the group. T.I.'s '24's' trades that live feel for a leaner, 808-driven radio track, but the unhurried, syllable-dragging delivery and hometown pride are the same instinct in a different decade.
Scarface gets one direct mention in T.I.'s own account of his rise, but it's central to the story: when T.I. crowned himself 'King of the South' after Trap Muzik broke, the backlash named the two people who actually held that title. 'People started saying, "Who does he think he is? He can't say that! OutKast are the Kings of the South. Scarface is the King of the South,"' he recalled — and kept the name anyway. He'd already ranked the Houston veteran, alongside OutKast and Goodie Mob, among the Southern lyricists whose ground he felt he was standing on.
listen forScarface's 'Mind Playin' Tricks '94' turns paranoia and grief into a slow, mournful confession, his delivery flat and unhurried even as the subject is guilt itself. 'I Still Luv You' works the same register: T.I. drops the boasts to reckon with his father's death and his own regrets over a similarly stripped-down, somber beat — the confessional mode Scarface helped make a Southern rap staple, applied to a different loss.