Tit and his rhyme partner Dolla Boy, jointly known as Playaz Circle, independently released the album, United We Stand, United We Fall in 1999. “My mama called me Tity Boi, my dad called me Tity Man.” Close associates still call him Tit. “The name Tity Boi actually came from my big mama, from me being spoiled and an only child-breastfed,” he told Vibe magazine last year. His lone season on the team as an Alabama State freshman, 1996-97, would make him around four years older than his claimed age of 31.) Once he began rapping, he was known by the bawdy, childhood nickname Tity Boi. (2 Chainz neglected to mention this stint in our interviews, even as he spoke at length about his high school basketball career. He came to rapping late in life, after a year of playing basketball at Alabama State. 2 Chainz’ rap resume is 13 years deep with some large gaps of unemployment and at least one name change. In the 48 hours between he’s scheduled a remarkable amount of work-related activities-this interview, a photo shoot, an all day video shoot, a local radio appearance and a trip to the studio to record a handful of his in-demand cameos-and is doing his best to balance them with light daddy duties like picking up his three-year-old daughter, Heaven, from preschool and taking her and her pregnant mother, Keisha, out for dinner in the city. The day before we meet, he was in New York, taping a 106 & Park appearance where he performed his guest verse on Nicki Minaj’s hit “Beez in the Trap.” Tomorrow he’s off to Texas for a series of club dates. Upon his arrival, he almost pulls into a neighboring driveway. (When I ask 2 Chainz if he enjoys nature, he responds dryly: “I like killing shit.”) He bought the house in November, right after he signed his solo deal with Def Jam, and has been on the road in intermittent weeklong shifts ever since, leaving little time to enjoy the property-he seems like a visitor in his own home. Still, it sits on 22 beautifully woodsy acres. It’s the type of home that could’ve been plucked directly out of a reality TV show about overly-entitled housewives. Immense columns adorn the front door and an ornate white piano sits behind it. The bricks are pristine, the ceilings intimidatingly high. The house is not quite medieval in its scope but it is enormous, exactly the sort of boilerplate McMansion that one would expect to find in the middle of post-rural Georgia. On this particularly warm afternoon in early April, Epps, much better known as the rapper 2 Chainz, is headed back to his “castle,” as he proudly calls his home about 30 minutes south of Atlanta, for the first time in a while. Instead they tend to operate in stolen glances and whispers: Is that 2 Chainz?! He’s a rapper, but not the type of rapper that fans are quick to run up on. They make it considerably difficult to interpret his permanently soft-spoken deadpan. “Some oily eye condition bullshit,” he explains. Large black Stevie Wonder-style frames, hinged with golden medallions, serve to protect his light sensitive eyes. His dreadlocks hang to his shoulder blades, his cargo jean shorts are frayed at the bottom, with clusters of unnecessary accessories-multiple wallet chains, a large, purple landline handset that plugs into his cell phone-dangling from his pockets. Standing at six-foot-five, he walks in a lumbering gait. From the magazine: ISSUE 80, June/July 2012
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