An Interview With TrapMoneyBiggie, the Dutch Producer Behind the Hottest DMV Street Rap
Pitchfork writer Alphonse Pierre 's rap column covers songs, mixtapes, albums, Instagram freestyles, memes, weird tweets, fashion trends—and anything else that catches his attention.
Every now and then, a producer in the DMV crank scene—the region's take on drill music—goes on a run so prolific that I can hear their Judgment Day beats in my dreams. At one point, that beatmaker was Cheecho, who, with his ominous keys, gunshots used like percussion, and go-go rhythms, helped craft the eerie sounds of Lil Dude and the late Goonew . At another time, it was Maryland's Sparkheem, who, before getting swooped into Brent Faiyaz and Tommy Richman 's groovy orbit, brought a sample-heavy edge to the genre's nightmarish sound. And the list goes on, from Dolan Beatz, a D.C. producer who had a few placements on Chief Keef 's classic Bang, Pt. 2 and carried over those Chicago drill sensibilities to the DMV, to Anti Beats, who upped the intensity with instrumentals like YoungFootSoldier 's " BPP " and Gizwop's " Top Opp ." This year, the producer of my dreams has been TrapMoneyBiggie , who has wrapped all of the sound's eras into his own regionally specific, unholy flamethrowers despite never having set foot in the DMV.
That's right. TrapMoneyBiggie is one of the hottest producers in DMV street rap and he's from Rotterdam, in the Netherlands. Sure, these days a producer in American regional rap scenes being from Europe isn't exactly newsworthy; it happens all the time: Arguably, the architects of Opium's ATL rage-rap sound are Dutch producers Starboy and Outtatown; New York drill leveled up with the addition of British beatmakers AXL Beats and 808 Melo; half of the biggest loopmakers in rap are from Germany . The difference with TrapMoneyBiggie is that the DMV scene is so insular that you would think an outsider unfamiliar with the subtle go-go roots would be exposed as a mimic. That hasn't happened at all, and I truly remain in disbelief that he didn't grow up in D.C. or Prince George's County, Maryland.
If you've spent absolutely any time clicking around the scene's constantly morphing street rap circuit, then chances are, you're so familiar with TrapMoneyBiggie's doomsday beats that you may already be tired of them. Nearly every other day, I find a song produced by him that I've never heard before, almost always driven by a spooky atmosphere and a frenetic drum pattern that sounds like a jackhammer hitting iron. Depending on the sample choices—terrible pop music of the past; iconic video game soundtrack music—his beats can be silly , mystical , or evil as hell . His best work has the sheer force of Lex Luger and can boost your adrenaline like you've just mainlined a few cans of Celsius. My favorites include the horror shows he produced on Skino's Youth Madness mixtape and the ghoulish instrumental for SlimeGetEm's "Mashallah I Cooked Him," which was the soundtrack of one of the year's great YouTube videos: the "Philly Muslims" tangin' clip.
Below, is a lightly edited interview with the Dutch producer about soundtracking a region where he's never been.
Pitchfork: How did you tap in with the DMV scene? I can't imagine it's very big in the Netherlands, right?TrapMoneyBiggie: It was social media. I remember I was really into old GBE [Chief Keef's Glory Boyz Entertainment], and they went from Chicago to the DMV and did a vlog. They met up with rappers like Fat Trel and Young Gleesh, and I remember Gleesh previewed a song, and, from there, I became a big, big Gleesh fan. I followed his whole career, and, then after that, in 2015 or 2016, I started listening to Shabazz. Then Goonew and Lil Dude. I liked the producers a lot, like Dolan and Cheecho. I feel like I saw the whole rise happen.
Do you think you picked up the subtleties of the sound just through heavy listening?I don't really know. A lot of people hit me up like, "Yo, Biggie, your beats remind me of go-go." But I feel like a lot of influence really comes from Cape Verdean music; that's all we listened to in my household. The music is really dance-focused and got crazy rhythm.
What is it exactly about Cape Verdean music and go-go that you think is similar?It's probably that a lot of the music is from bands, live music, no computer type shit. You have to have a certain spirit to be behind the drums and be behind the keys. Crazy story, bro. During slavery, they sent a boat from somewhere in America to Brazil and the boat got off radar. One day, Cape Verdeans was chillin' on the island and they saw the boat and when they went on it, it was full of instruments. So they took the instruments and spread them all over the island. The music game there is crazy; everybody is really talented; I think we Cape Verdeans are the most musically intelligent people.
Did the local Dutch scene influence your sound, too?Maybe. It was a real fun scene; they got a different swag from America. There's a lot of different types of music out there, too. But I'm an old head at heart, so I was mostly into the boom-bap shit.
Have you made a lot of music locally?Not a lot. I got one big Dutch song: It's called " Saus ," by Ronnie Flex. He's one of the biggest Dutch artists, and he was my first friend in life, probably since like three or four years old. As far as respect and status, he's like the Dutch Drake to me.
Do you think it's tough getting recognition in the Netherlands?Yeah, it's not something that was overnight. A lot of people assume I blew up fast, but it's been a long process. Nobody believed in me because I was from the Netherlands. Here, when I told people I'm going to be a big producer in America, they're like, "What the fuck? This nigga smoking crack?"
There's a lot of European producers working with American rappers now. What was your sound like before your DMV era?I feel like I was one of the first producers working with Americans, to be honest. Back in the day, I was more Atlanta-focused, working with artists like 10K Dunkin and Slimesito . I was really into the Lil B and Soulja Boy era, so when I was a teenager I did stuff with AGoff , and he even had me join his group SGod. Then Keef came around and I mimicked that; I was really just copying whatever they did in America.
So what was your entry way into the DMV as an artist?I fell in love with how their music was grimy but still fun. That's how I grew up: I seen dark things but always had fun. So, at first, in 2018 or 2019, I was emailing rappers that was big at the time, like Q da Fool and Baby Fifty , but they never responded. So I didn't take it serious until years later when I followed YoungFootSolider and he followed me back. He wasn't big yet, but I DMed him, "yo," and he said, "yo" back, and I was telling my friends, "Oh shit, this DMV nigga responded to me." My friends told me to call him, and he was in the studio like, "Send beats," so I did. He rapped over one of them, and I used that to show other rappers. After that came JG Wardy's "Hurry Ya Hoe Ass Up" and then Skino's " Smack Em ." So I started uploading type beats to my YouTube. Then everything went up.
Did all of that lead to Slimegetem's "Mashallah I Cooked Him"? That's probably your signature song so far, right?That song was really manifested. He spoke to me everyday before he blew up. He was telling me to make a Slimegetem type beat, but I didn't understand because he didn't have nothing out. But he was telling me all the time, "When I get out of jail I'm gon' turn up on your beats, bro." Then he came out of jail and really did it. I really like that song because it gave me the power to believe in myself. I feel like now, in the Netherlands, they respect me more. They take me more serious. It's not delusional belief.
I feel like you have a go-to drum pattern on most of your DMV tracks. Is that repetition boring for you?No, I'm trying to be consistent with my sound. Because before I was doing everything, UK drill, New York drill, afrobeats, but once you find something that works you might as well stick to it. If you listen to everyone's favorite producers, like Southside or Zaytoven, they always have the same drums on their beats. I think that's the fact of being a successful producer, being recognized immediately.
Does it feel surreal to be able to go on YouTube everyday and there's a new song of a DMV rapper on your beats?I'm not going to lie, bro. It doesn't even feel real because I've never even been to America. I'm still living the same life I did before. I'm in a process to get a visa right now but it's hard.
What's the hardest part?It's the whole process; they want a lot of evidence that you're somebody special for the American community, so I'm trying to prove that. Normally, you can get an ESTA [visa waiver] and you can travel to America for 90 days, but that has been denied. Now I'm trying to get an artists' visa, so maybe once you write this I can show it to the American Embassy. Then I can finally go to the DMV.