Michael Render grew up on the west side of Atlanta; from the age of nine, he aspired to be a rapper, eventually creating the moniker Killer Mike, as he explains, “so that he could be the most badass rap MC in the world.”

Now, 20 years into a hip-hop career that includes 10 years as part of the acclaimed group Run The Jewels, Killer Mike has released the solo album, Michael, so that people would get to know the more personal side of Michael Render, “that little nine-year-old boy on the album cover with the horns and the halo and the buck teeth and the smile.”

Following a performance of three songs from the album, Killer Mike sat down with The Current’s Jill Riley to share his story. It’s deeply personal and profoundly moving. Watch the complete interview using the player above, and read a transcript just below the three-song performance video:

Interview Transcript

Jill Riley: You're listening to The Current. I'm Jill Riley. I have a guest in the studio here at Minnesota Public Radio at The Current, just an incredible performance with a choir, and we're going to talk all about that as well.

Killer Mike: Thank you.

Jill Riley: Killer Mike, also known as Michael, because that's who you are.

Killer Mike: Just Michael, just Michael. My mom and grandma call me Michael.

Jill Riley: Michael, and we're getting, I mean, quite honestly, with the new record, we're getting to know you as Michael.

Killer Mike: Yeah.

Jill Riley: Yeah, we know you as Killer Mike. Certainly as half of Run The Jewels.

Killer Mike: Yeah.

Jill Riley: And I mean, but you do a little bit of everything. I mean, actor and activist and entrepreneur, and I'm sure there's plenty that I'm leaving off the list.

Killer Mike: Somebody's husband, somebody's dad, some people's dad.

Jill Riley: Exactly, somebody's friend.

Killer Mike: Yeah, yep!

Jill Riley: Yeah. So Killer Mike, the record is Michael.

Killer Mike: Yeah.

Jill Riley: And you know, like I said, getting to know you as you with this record. Now, I know you made your first solo record 20 years ago.

Killer Mike: Yeah, 20 years. Yeah.

Jill Riley: Yeah. And so going into making this record, I mean, did you, kind of at the beginning, have a spark of an idea for just, for a song or was it, "OK, I'm going to approach this record as me, as Michael."

Killer Mike: Well, I mean, as an artist, you're never not doing art. So when Obama was ending his second term, the first song, "Down By Law," just kind of happened as a freestyle. You hear me saying in there, "Free our mama, please free Assata, free Mutulu," Mutulu Shakur was recently freed and he died; he succumbed to cancer. So it's just a plea, honestly, it started as a freestyle. But over the years, I just get a, had a compulsion to just get certain things out. And I knew it wasn't time to put out an album because Run The Jewels' first priority is four classic albums to be a real group. So over the last decade, I've spent that, that has been the sole mission and purpose, but COVID knocked me down; it put me on my face before they even had given it a name, like 14 days, I thought I was gonna die. And I just, I had never felt that bad, that weak. And I was like, "Man, if I died, would I have ever gotten the chance to let the world know who I was." They knew who I was as a protégé of Outkast. They knew who I was as one-half of Run The Jewels. They knew who I was in proxy to mixtapes and stuff, but I never introduced the world to Michael, to that little nine-year-old boy on the album cover with the horns and the halo and the buck teeth and the smile.

Jill Riley: Yeah!

Killer Mike: Yeah, him. I wanted the world to know who he was. And this, that was the mission, was let me figure out doing this album, and me and Cuz Lightyear, who's an amazingly talented artist himself, he said, "I'm gonna put mine on hold, and I'm just gonna A&R this record." And we spent the last two-and-a-half, almost three years, crafting this record.

 Jill Riley: And so, in telling your story, the story of Michael, you know, I mean, where does it begin? You know, tell me about yourself.

Killer Mike: It begins on the west side of Atlanta.

Jill Riley: Yeah.

Killer Mike: So parts of my life — so imagine the Black version of a Norman Rockwell painting, right? Vignettes in the middle of the crack era. And I grew up in a neighborhood that was started by and for Black people in 1946, called the Collier Heights and Adamsville community. It had everybody from working-class people like my grandparents who were a nurse and a dump-truck driver, to enormously rich Black land developers like the Russell family, who were great, to the, you know, the alleged bootlegger and numbers man in Charlie Cato. All these Black people were together by choice. All these Black people believed that everything was possible if you individually were strong, and if you collectively work together. My side of town help Andy Young win [a U.S. House of Representatives seat in] Congress, helped him become mayor [of Atlanta]. My side of town helped get [President Jimmy] Carter elected. My side of town made unions stronger in places like UPS. My side of town showed me all my heroes and villains look like me. So I wasn't really afraid of other people. I just didn't know. Like, I didn't, the only white people I saw were like my favorite guy, Mr. Rogers, and Bob, you know, Bob Ross! You know, public television gave me an access to a bigger world, but my world was totally Black. And it gave me a sense of fairness, where I knew the world wasn't fair in a large sense, but it gave me a sense of fairness if I worked hard, if I educated myself, that I could make my grandparents proud.

Jill Riley: Yeah.

Killer Mike: And so it, the way... There was a reason I call it like a Norman Rockwell-like painting is, you know, if you, if you look at everything from the little girl who's sitting outside in the Norman Rockwell painting with the black eye because she got in a fight, I saw this stuff — I just saw it chocolate. I just saw it with Black folks, and it was pure. Coming up in the '80s during the Reagan era, we started to see a turn, of course, with drugs and things of that nature. So it was very confusing at times. Within a two-year period, the person you looked up to and respected as an older person in your community might be asking you for drugs two years later.

I remember, and I talk about on one song like how, you know, in "Down By Law," that I apologize to an addict that I sold drugs to because I didn't realize he was spending money that would have been spent on his children. You know, and I remember his forgiveness. He was saying, "Man, young man, I didn't have no business asking you for drugs!" He said, "You didn't know what you was doing, and I was wrong." And it was such a pure moment.

And when I talk about the conversation with my aunt, and her saying, you know, "You're not no Scarface or nothing, you ain't no more special than any of these other little boys in the trap. You just treat us like human beings." I learned lessons on sympathy and empathy and human beings. And it just gave me, it gave me an honest view of the world that people aren't perfect. But we're good. At our core, I believe people are good.

Jill Riley: Yeah.

Killer Mike: And I wanted a chance to not only talk about that in my life, but I knew it will resonate, in particular with men, Black men, working-class men, salt of the Earth men, and the women who love them; you know, their daughters, their mothers, their lovers, their nieces. You know, there are people out there who may have, whether it's in the Appalachian, or the West Virginia or in, you know, the streets of Miami, Chicago and Atlanta, there's a group of men out there that are holding guilt and holding remorse that they haven't forgiven, they haven't forgiven themselves for things. And this record gave me a chance to forgive myself for some things and, and get some of my guilt out into give praise and worship to a higher power that resides in all human beings, but that I recognize in myself now, and I wanted to get a chance to give the world that because, you know, if Run The Jewels is like the X Men, we're like the uncanny X Men: we're superheroes, we have on masks, we have powers. But behind that mask, it's just a very real human being, a little nine-year-old boy, who created this character called Killer Mike so that he could be the most badass rap MC in the world. But at the end of the day, it was just a man.

Jill Riley: Yeah. And I'm talking with Killer Mike and talking with Michael.

Killer Mike: Yeah.

Jill Riley: ...about the new record, Michael. So again, this record, very personal, very honest, very vulnerable. Michael, when you were growing up, to be vulnerable, or to talk about things that were difficult or to talk about feelings, was that a part of your upbringing? Or is that something that you, I mean, is that something that you had to learn along the way? 

Killer Mike: I mean, you get a mixture of, like, my grandmother was, man, and my mother both, they were very tough on me. I was, I was the only boy, and I was what they call in the Deep South “cahrry.” I was sickly; you know, asthma and stuff. And my grandmother, you know, she would tell me, "Toughen up." You know what I mean? "Do the yardwork, get out." My mother was like, you know, "I could let you be soft if you were, if I had two boys, but I don't." You know, "I have one boy."

And so there was, there were times that I felt like they were just being unfairly like, hard on me. But as I grew up, I understood why. Now the men in my family were particularly, they were men men, they were, you know, what people would define as alpha men. I have two fathers: a bio and a non-bio father. My grandfather raised me on a day-to-day basis; my grandfather called me "baby" till the day he died, me and my sisters, you know. He only spanked me once. But, you know, with that said, he had killed a man in his lifetime, too, so, you know, I knew he had the capacity to not be nice! But he was so kind and such a sweet man to me and my sisters.

Both my dads, my dads still hug and kiss me, like a kid, to this day, you know, my dad, Big Mike. My dad, Tony, is just one of the most kind and loving and sensitive bonus dads you could ever have. He always encouraged me to share my feelings with him. He'll call me out of nowhere now and say, "How you feel? I'm just checking on my son. I want to know you're OK." So I had, I had a great balance of tough and love. And the women usually were pushing for the tough because they knew that life is tough. And the men, although tough lessons were learned, they always gave me enough affection and let me know it's OK as a man to be sensitive, you know, even if the world doesn't accept it always.

Jill Riley: Yeah, right. When you decided that you wanted to make music —

Killer Mike: Yeah!

Jill Riley: ...and that was your, like, that was gonna be your path. What was it like for you? I mean, how old were you when you ...? 

Killer Mike: I was nine when I decided I wanted to be a rapper, you know what I mean. And I remember my mom was smoking a joint, and I was like, "I want to be an MC." And she was like, "F--- it! That's what is gonna be!" And I was like, because I was like, "Word!" And she took a trip to New York, and she had some associations with Roxanne Shanté, interestingly enough, and Shanté sent me back a signed picture and a signed record. And I didn't know that years later till the movie dropped and we talked, and she's still a good friend, her and my wife still talk to this day. I was with her a few days ago. That picture was a picture she had taken on a way to a group home. And it didn't have very many good memories for her, but it was stoic, and that picture is one of the most precious items I have. It's still in my photo book today. But she sent that to me and that encouraged me; I was like, "This 15-year-old girl can be a rapper — she's badass!" Like, she was, she was the illest! I was like, "Oh I got to do it. I loved Run DMC, loved the Fatboys, and my mom let me go to Fresh Fest, but my mom was an encourager, you know, she her and her home — she's only 16 years older than me, so you know, if I'm nine, she's 25.

Jill Riley: Yeah.

Killer Mike: Her homegirls are drinking wine, smoking joints. She's like, "Hey, baby, come rap for 'em!" You know, my grandparents...

Jill Riley: I was going to say what about grandma and grandpa?

Killer Mike: They didn't give a damn about rap.

Jill Riley: Yeah.

Killer Mike: My grandmother was, my grandma was was, you know, Baptist Church, but she went to Pentecostal church, and so, you know, blues and stuff like that was banned in our house; we couldn't play that type of stuff like. My grandfather played the blues, and you know, he would, he would get a guitar and play it and sing to my grandmother and make her blush, because she was a church girl; she knew she wasn't supposed to be listening to B.B. King and Muddy Waters and stuff. So he would, he introduced it, he made sure that we got free enough to see it. But my grandmother was big into the church, but the churches she took us to were these small, little Pentecostal churches where the musicians were essentially the same musicians that were playing in the clubs my mom was going to, so I loved music. You know, I knew I loved music. I knew I loved rap music, but I got a lot of challenges along the way that made me a better human being. And I understood afterwards that there's a, you know, serendipity is God's way of remaining anonymous, I've heard, [...] me, but Miss Ely challenged me to learn how to fly planes. She was like, "You're too smart to be a rapper; rap won't even be around by the time you — you should learn how to fly a plane." So when I got 15, 16, Mr. Jim Berto from George High School, a different high school, came up to me after, you know, after summer school, and was just like, "Hey, are you interested, do you like flying?" I'm like, "Yeah, I flew once." And he's like, "Well, I want to get you on a program, and we're gonna pay you to learn how to fly.” And me and Slim from 112, when learned how to fly planes, I remember my cousins got into Morehouse, my homeroom teacher told me Morehouse would never accept me. And I accepted his challenge and got into Morehouse and went to Morehouse for a year and then decided I was gonna drop out at 19. I was telling my dad — I had read a story on Puffy or something dropping out of Howard — and I was like, "Man, I'm gonna leave; I want to, I know what I want to do. I don't want to study religion and philosophy and" — you know, not that I didn't want to do it, but I knew I had a chance to be a rapper. And I remember my father saying to me, Big Mike, he said, "You know they call it 'starving artist' for a reason." And I used that, I put that like a chip on my shoulder, like, "I'm gonna show my dad." And I showed him.

And the thing is, a few years ago, an article came out that described me less as a rapper and more of as a leader. And my dad called me, and he sent it to me, he said, "You know, I want you to know that I never didn't believe in you. I always believed in you. So I apologize for sounding harsh and saying the 'starving artist' thing." He said, "But from the time I would drop you off at nursery, and me and the teacher would walk out the room, and I'd peek back in the room, and you'd be telling the kids 'Hey, so this is what we're gonna do,' and they'd be listening to you." And he said, "I just saw you as a leader." And he said, "This article is the embodiment of what I saw my son as, so I never doubted you could be anything you wanted to be. I just always wanted you to understand that you're a leader." And I'd...

Jill Riley: How did it feel to hear that?

Killer Mike: We just cried on the phone.

Jill Riley: Yeah, I would imagine.

Killer Mike: It was overwhelming. I mean, my dad lost his father at 10 years old; his dad was killed in an accident. So he grew up without a father. He grew up having to be a father to his younger brothers and sisters, and having to, you know, have a role as the oldest in the house for his mom, to be there for his mother. So the fact that my father sees me as a leader and is proud of that, it means a lot to me. Because my father could have been anything, you know, he was, he's smart, he talks in rhyme, which is where I kind of get it from:

"How're you doing, Dad?”

"I'm pretty fair, foursquare. You know, I know the journey's long, but I'm gonna get there."

He says stuff [like that]. So I think I kind of picked up my knack for rhyming from him. But I know that part of his goals and aspirations were unreachable because at 19 years old, he has this child, and he has to get a job and step up. And you know, he goes on to do police then fireman, and ended up at the gas station, I mean, at the gas company, working the rest of his days.

But, you know, my father is just, both of them, have sacrificed so much for me. And I remember wearing a Raiders jacket, and my father, finding out that he, he took a job washing windows — as a man, when you take a job to wash windows to buy your son a Starter jacket — that the reciprocity for me, and showing myself to be a leader and showing his investment, it just means the world to me.

Jill Riley: Yeah, I'm talking with Killer Mike. I'm talking with Michael, the record is called Michael. And there is something about, you know, at this stage of your life at, you know, we're both in our 40s—

Killer Mike: Yes!

Jill Riley: You know, but there is something about the time, like the time is right to tell your story, because I mean, do you feel like at this point, that you've just gained this knowledge and this wisdom as you, as you look back? 

Killer Mike: Well, I think that I've had it; my parents and grandparents and uncles and aunts, they've all imparted it on me. A lot of times it's there, it just takes something to open up the drawer or the cabinet that's in your brain to say, "This is what that's for," you know what I mean? So I thank them for imparting in on me; I've had it, but knowing how to use it is what I've learned to do, to use the wisdom, to learn to be quiet. You don't have to win every argument; you only have to participate. Some things, you know, my grandmother would say, "You got to give up your right for other people's wrong." And I just, I never understood that: you know, why do I have to give up what's right for other people's wrong? Because sometimes that's the right thing to do. Winning of an argument is not the goal; you are here to help people understand. That's better than winning, or bigger than winning. So I've learned that.

I've learned how to navigate life, to listen to my grandfather, when he says, "Take care of yourself first, because if you can't take care of yourself, you can't take care of anyone else." And he would say, "Take care of you and your sisters," and he would say, "Don't embarrass me and your mama's name," meaning on a very local level, they had built a reputation that was good and upstanding, so don't destroy our names on a local level, which is hyperlocal; on a daily basis, I tried to do right in Atlanta by Atlantans.

And he told me, you know, final words, "Don't embarrass Black folks." And that's, that's a bigger one sometimes! Because you know, Black people are not a monolith. So some Black people don't like it, some Black people do, but I try my very best not to embarrass our community. And also the three things he gave me, and my grandfather never went past third grade, he had to drop out I think at like eight years old to work in a sawmill to support his two sisters and mother, and he was one of the most wisest, kindest, brilliant, beautiful human beings I've ever met, so.

Jill Riley: Yeah. Well, you mentioned, you know, going to church with your grandparents being raised in the church. 

Killer Mike: Well, my grandmama. My grandfather wouldn't go.

Jill Riley: He wouldn't go?

Killer Mike: No. He didn't trust the clergy, he didn't trust preachers.

Jill Riley: OK. Well, then, so you went with your grandma.

Killer Mike: My grandmother, yeah.

Jill Riley: Your grandma. Again, this is a story I can relate to. Maybe a holiday here and there.

Killer Mike: Yeah, exactly! Maybe a pop-up on a holiday!

Jill Riley: Yeah. So you went to church with your grandmother, and I mean, when I listened to the record, I could hear that. Because in that, that, if you haven't been in a church and heard a church organ, then I don't know that someone would know how to utilize that in their story or their music.

Killer Mike: Yeah.

Jill Riley: But it's just like right from the get-go. It's just this organ, just, it's almost as if you were telling your story, you know, by delivering, you know, a sermon.

Killer Mike: Yeah.

Jill Riley: For lack of a better term, I guess.

Killer Mike: Thank you.

Jill Riley: So that part, when did that become, you know, part of the sound of the record?

Killer Mike: Well, it was a homecoming. The Curtis Mayfield sample that starts to record, Curtis, of course, is soul and affected by gospel in church. When my mother moved out to marry my dad Tony, my grandmother and grandfather asked that I be allowed to stay in their home, and they raised me because my mother, my grandmother told her, "You need to go learn how to be a wife, you know, before you worry about mothering." And my mom left me a stack of records and her component set, what they would call it back in the day was a record player. And Curtis is what I would just keep going back and listening to. Because even though it didn't sound exactly like it, it felt like the gospel, you know? And that organ, even if you've never been to church, it hits different. It feels different. It vibrates different. And so I decided early on that, or I understood early on that this record was going to be a homecoming. You know, I made a classic record with R.A.P. Music 11 years ago. This is a generational statement. This is a homecoming of sorts. This is me saying to my grandmother, like, "You were right." She would, she would tell me, man, "You can't, you can't run from God." And I ran.

Jill Riley: Did you find yourself trying to at times?

Killer Mike: Yeah, I ran so long. I ran and I sought comfort in pleasures, I sought comfort in drugs, in adventure, I sought comfort in, you know, the secular things I wound up doing. And Lord knows I ain't one enjoying no church yet, but I just finally realized I can't, you know, I can't escape that God has a purpose for my life. And even though I don't know what that purpose is, I know I have one. And I know that God has me on a journey. And even if I don't know where it's going, I know it's meant for me to learn on that journey. So I just accept it.

Jill Riley: And, you know, learning on the journey, but also again, you know, sharing the wisdom.

Killer Mike: Yeah.

Jill Riley: Now, the record has been out on a little over a month, I suppose. What song on the record do you feel like people really relate to?

Killer Mike: I think that people, they long-play the record. Like what people are telling me is that, people aren't saying, "I just go back to this song." People are saying, "I play the album as a long play." Now, a record that I was not surprised or shocked, but I'm elated to see kind of grow, is "Slummer." "Slummer" was about a girl I was in love with in high school, a teenage love for two summers; we kind of lived like adults. And I got her pregnant, and we had to, we had to have an abortion. And I remember the first time I played it in DJ Cutmaster Swiff's house, who's Outkast's DJ, one of the best DJs in the world, but I played it for some guys he was doing tracking and stuff with. And they both started crying, because as men, they had been through the same thing. And it never really gets talked about that men carry a responsibility and a guilt when they have to pay for and participate in abortions. And you know, and it just, it's a pain that's unaddressed. And it's something that had haunted me as a regret. But again, a young woman told me, "You have bigger things to do, you have places to go, that I'm not going to want to go." She went on to become an amazing mother, Mary, you know, amazing children. And I think that God's plan is amazing. But she encouraged me, you know. And I think that that record is resonating with men on a way that other records may not have, because certainly I believe in a woman's right. Certainly, I believe a court should not have the right to tell a woman what to do with their body. And with all that, I still have to acknowledge that, you know, getting pregnant is usually a two-party thing. And there's another party in there, and a lot of times we carry a lot of grief and a lot of mourning. And I just needed to acknowledge my own, and there and by, realized I was acknowledging that with a lot of other men.

Jill Riley: Yeah. And again, you know, there's a lot of vulnerability in that. And there's a lot of, you know, like, peacemaking.

Killer Mike: Yeah.

Jill Riley: In that. You know, as I was, I'm glad that you said people are listening to it from beginning to end, because it just, it sounds, it sounds like it has, like a story arc.

Killer Mike: It's an audio movie.

Jill Riley: It has a tie. Yeah, it really does have a tie, that you can start it from the beginning and just let it play. And, you know, part of that, part of your story, you talked about your grandparents, you talked about, you know, the father figures in your life, you know, your dad and your stepdad and—

Killer Mike: No, no, no. Just two dads.

Jill Riley: Just two dads.

Killer Mike: We don't use the word "step" in our family.

Jill Riley: Okay, great. Well, that's good to know.

Killer Mike: We use "bonus" or we just say you got two dads, and then we usually say, "Well, which one?" 

Jill Riley: Two dads! But you also, I mean, you acknowledge and it seems like you make peace with your mother's passing.

Killer Mike: Yeah.

Jill Riley: And you've talked about your mother, that she was 16 years old when she had you, and I imagine that, you know, she faced a similar decision. One like you faced. 

Killer Mike: Yeah. My grandmother would tell me all the time, like when I would get feisty with my mother, because, again, it's, you know, when your mother's only 16 years older than you, essentially she's a big sister.

Jill Riley: Yeah.

Killer Mike: You have a weird relationship in which you try to equal yourself with her, but she's still your mother. So throughout our life, most of our head-butting was you know, us, acting more like siblings. And I'd tell my grandmother, "You're my mama; I don't know why I gotta listen to her, why I gotta call her and ask her can I go to the Hawks game with my dad?" She'd say, "Because that's your mother; she could have had an abortion." And I didn't understand that abortion was only legalized two, three years before I was born! So what my grandma was saying was, "She had other options — be appreciative!" And when as I got older, I understood. I was like, "Sh-t, really, she could have got me out of there, and I should probably practice some more humility!"

But I understood where my grandma, my grandmother had a wry sense of humor. She was amazing. She was, I remember asking Betty once, I said, "Why do you tell me I'm a bastard? Like, why do you say that word to me?" She said, "Baby, because that's what you are! Your parents weren't married, baby. That's what it says in the Bible." She said, "But it doesn't mean I don't love you. I love you! You're my bastard."

It was, you know, so it was the weirdest relationships with her and my mother, you know, but I'm grateful. I'm grateful that my mother, you know, chose to have me. I have no criticisms or critique about other people that chose otherwise in the 70s. But my mother was asked to leave school. She was asked to leave Frederick Douglass High School and have me and come back to school. And she didn't. She walked around proudly with a big belly. She walked across that baccalaureate stage with me on her hip when she graduated. You know, she, many of the same teachers that taught her taught me, and we proved her legacy right, and the risks she took having me, and I'm grateful for Denise for that. And ultimately, she decided to have me on purpose. I was not an accident; now my dad, you know, he might have just been thinking he was having fun with the girl he loved. But my mom knew she wanted to get pregnant. My grandmother could only have one biological child; that was my mother. She had lost, through miscarriage, a few other children. And I had an adopted aunt that died as a child named Jean, and I have an adopted uncle who's autistic. But my mother wanted my grandmother to have an opportunity to raise someone else in her bloodline. So by having me, she essentially gifted me to my grandmother.

Jill Riley: Yeah. And I'm sorry for the loss of both your mother and your grandmother.

Killer Mike: Thank you.

Jill Riley: I mean, I've, my mother and my grandmother are no longer with us. And they, but I feel like they come out in me.

Killer Mike: They do!

Jill Riley: In so many different ways.

Killer Mike: They're alive, in your head, in your heart, in your actions. Yeah, they don't they don't really go anywhere. Physically, you can't call them, you can't touch them. But if you get quiet enough, long enough, they're there. The energy is there. Yeah, absolutely.

Jill Riley: Yeah. And do you feel like — this was an experience I had — that, I feel like there was some delayed grief. Like, I didn't acknowledge it right away. It came out in other ways later.

Killer Mike: It never stops.

Jill Riley: When you were in the studio, you came up with this song, "Motherless."

Killer Mike: Yeah.

Jill Riley: What did it feel like to be in there to, to just say it, you know, to be in there saying it.

Killer Mike: I'd never said it. I'd never said my mom's dead. I said, “She transitioned.”

Jill Riley: Yeah.

Killer Mike: “She went up to be with the ancestors.” I said a half-dozen other things; I'd never said, "My mother's dead." And when I said it, I just poured down crying. You know? I just poured down crying. And I got the first verse and a half off. And then the second verse starts, you know, "My mom's dead / Her mama dead / Her mama died in my arms / My ma said it wasn't fair / I told her her mama raised me / I told her she crazy." And that was from a real argument we had at my grandmother's funeral. We were in the limousine; I'm here, my autistic uncle is here, my mother is there. My mother and my uncle are arguing; my mother's like, "Goddammit, I always had to fight for you, people picking on you!"

And I was just like, "What are you guys arguing for? My mama's dead," you know what I'm saying, just— 

And then she's like, "That ain't your f-----g mama! That's my mama!"

You know, just like, Yo! It was, it was it was sitcom worthy! And she told me, you know, she says, "One day I'm gonna be gone and you're gonna see, my mama wanted you," do you know what I mean?

So I had to stop mid, and I went to Stankonia, flew back out of L.A., went to Stankonia and finished it. But I, it makes me laugh and smile at the same time, because again, me and Denise had a relationship that was a friendship, it was, it was almost like we were siblings. But when she told me, she said, "When I'm gone, you're gonna understand," and the moment she died, it just hit me. Hit me like a ton of bricks like this, this is the vessel that I came through. This is the first God I knew. You know, children, a mother is like God to them. This is, and I'll never get to call her or talk to her or tell you were right. But she felt it. And then I remember the story from when my grandmother took me to church, the story of Solomon, and the two women with a baby being brought before him saying, you know, "He's a wise king. Both these women say this is his baby," and him saying, "Cut the baby in half. Give each a half of the baby." And the mother that said, "No, no, no, no, let her take the baby," he understood that that was the mother, because only a mother would have the unconditional love enough to give up a child so that the child may be better even at the sake of their own wants and needs. And I just, I understood in that moment just how much Denise loved me. And I've never gotten to acknowledge that to her in that way. And I just, I pray and I meditate daily. And I hope that um, whatever energy that she was that's gone into the universe, I hope it feels it, because I get it. You know, I get it now, girl. I understand.

Jill Riley: Yeah.  Yeah. Yeah. And you know, and that's again, the, you get to this point of life where the lights start coming on where it was dark, and then the lights come on, and you you see it, you get it.

Killer Mike: Yeah.

Jill Riley: And here you are. You're, you know, again, sharing these stories and sharing these experiences with the record, Michael. So the High & Holy Tour.

Killer Mike: Yes.

Jill Riley: So it's, you know, Killer Mike, but it's not just you.

Killer Mike: No.

Jill Riley: The Midnight Revival. So tell me about that. Because it's incredible, you know, you're listening to this on the radio right now, I would encourage you to check out the performance videos because just, just a gorgeous choir behind you.

Killer Mike: Oh man, Adonica, Jordan, Jory, Alicia, Troy, they are an amazing five-person ensemble, of soul, of gospel, of — and it's not just on the mic, they're legitimately good human beings, and touring is hard; buses are crowded, crap is everywhere. And we're out there just enduring it. You know, DJ Trackstar, who's like, man, who's been like the perfect point guard for the last 12, 13 years of my life and my career, it just feels good. It feels good to bring people a rap show that does not feel typical. Run The Jewels gives one of the best rap shows in the world. You know, I'm one-half of a group that's Run DMC-like: two MCs and a DJ, and we put on badass rap shows. So I didn't want to try to do anything that will feel basic or typical, because I already put on a pretty badass rap show! I wanted to bring people into where Michael was at nine years old. And that was in church. And I'd be in church and the drummer and the bass player would catch a groove, and my grandmother would be singing to Jesus, and I'd be over there freestyling in my mind, because the group felt so much like Curtis or so much like the Isleys! And I just wanted to bring people into a Southern Pentecostal, Black, musical, religious experience, and it resonates with people.

And because music does what even, you know, study of the Gospels does: It gets people to drop their barriers and to just accept the love that moves in a genuine — there's a tradition in the church of wailing; people aren't even saying nothing, just [hums]. You know, and now I see people paying, you know, thousands of dollars to go on retreats and hum and sh-t. I'm like, "That's just wailing. That's just, what you're doing, you could do for free at your local storefront church," you know? I look at people my grandmother, my grandmother loved Reverend Ike; my grandfather didn't like him so much. But when I look at the books that people who are on Oprah, or write and charge people dollars, hundreds of dollars for, it's, I'm just like, "This is the same stuff Reverend Ike was saying." What I remembered about the Divine being internal, in you. And God is not a construct that's outside of you, but something that dwells in you, that moves through you. And you can manifest anything if you believe, you know? And I just, I'm thankful my grandmother exposed me to it. I'm thankful that music pulled me closer to it. And I'm thankful to God that I got brought back to it.

Jill Riley: Here with Killer Mike. I'm here with Michael. We've been talking about the new record, Michael, but you mentioned Run The Jewels.

Killer Mike: Yeah. They're my favorite rap group!

Jill Riley: You know, we're pretty disappointed when, you know, Rage Against the Machine and Run the Jewels couldn't do the show here.

Killer Mike: And I mean, Zack [de la Rocha] hurt himself, so yeah, I'm glad my friend's back, though. I'm glad he's back to moving around. 

Jill Riley: How's he doing? I haven't really heard it.

Killer Mike: Last I talked to him, he was in rehab. I've had two shoulder surgeries on rotator cuffs, so I know rehabbing from injuries ain't easy. 

Jill Riley: Yeah.

Killer Mike: He's uh, he's a tough bastard. He fought back.

Jill Riley: Good, good. It's good to hear that he's doing a lot better. And I know that process can go, you know, it can go slowly. But you know, Run The Jewels, I mean, you guys are, you guys are looking at an anniversary.

Killer Mike: Yeah, 10 year.

Jill Riley: Ten years. And so, this fall, you're gonna be back on the road. 

Killer Mike: Yep, Atlanta, L.A., New York and Chicago. Four nights, each album 1, 2, 3 and 4 on four different nights. We want people to come out and enjoy the set. 

Jill Riley: Yeah. And, you know, oh, that fourth record! I mean, I feel like it really kind of, you know, shot you guys into kind of this next level. Is there a fifth record?

Killer Mike: Yeah. We've got to be a fifth. Well, we've only got, we got to be a fifth record. We got to be a movie. I want to march into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. So yeah, absolutely!

Jill Riley: Excellent.

Killer Mike: Absolutely.

Jill Riley: Well, it's good to know that. And I wonder, you know, as we go out, and you're here in Minneapolis, I mean, how does it feel to be in the Twin Cities? How does it feel? 

Killer Mike: I mean, it's always good, because I like baseball. It's always good because you know, Prince has made a mark here, I get to, I get to, man, look at where he's been, and Morris Day and The Time — shouts out to Jerome. And you know, I just, it feel good because this is a music city. There are certain cities that, you know, that unless you've been a traveling musician, man, you'll never know, man: St. Louis, Minneapolis, Chicago, this, the Midwest just has a great audience for music. You know what I'm saying? So I just, I love to come to places where people are genuinely enthused about it. They're rapping every word with you. You're laughing, shedding tears together. It's absolutely amazing. I'm looking forward to doing it more, not less.

Jill Riley: Excellent. Thank you for what you said about the Midwest because people see us as flyover and it's anything but that.

Killer Mike: Oh no. You guys got some of the best food in the world, too.

Jill Riley: Oh, well, there we go. You heard it right here from Killer Mike. Thank you so much.

Killer Mike:  Thank you, Jill, I appreciate you.  Thank you for the conversation.

Killer Mike: And man, honor all our moms and grandmothers, man. I think they were watching out on us today.

Jill Riley: Yeah, I hope so. One sitting here one's sitting here. I won't say which one is the good and the bad.

Killer Mike: Yeah, yeah. It just depends on the day!

Jill Riley: All right. Well, you be well, and thank you so much. And thank you for the performance. It was really beautiful.

Killer Mike: I appreciate you. I hope it moved you.

Jill Riley: All right, Killer Mike, here on The Current.

Killer Mike: Love and respect.

Songs Performed

“NRich”
”Motherless”
”Something For Junkies”

All songs from Killer Mike’s solo album Michael, available on Loma Vista Recordings.

Musicians

Killer Mike – MC
DJ Trackstar – DJ
The Midnight Revival Choir: Jordan Minter, Adonica Nornwood, Alicia Peters Jordan, Kenya Shelton, Troy Durden

Credits

Guest – Killer Mike
Host – Jill Riley
Producer – Derrick Stevens
Video Director – Erik Stromstad
Camera Operator – Micah Kopecky
Audio – Cameron Wiley, Josh Sauvageau
Graphics – Natalia Toledo
Digital Producer – Luke Taylor

External Link

Killer Mike – official site