Rich Homie Quan, Above All Else, Was a Real One

Atlanta has a track record of pumping out artists who are sonically and aesthetically out of this world. Every once in a while, however, the city champions an artist who is so grounded in reality that they make the mundane and all-too familiar everyday struggle feel like a larger than life experience. Rich Homie Quan (real name Dequantes Devontay Lamar) was one of those artists. Quan, who passed away in Atlanta yesterday at the young age of 34, was an incredible artist and a true man of the people with an undeniable gift for connecting with the masses.

Beneath his catchy, intergenerationally appealing melodies, witty songwriting, and charismatic performances, Quan explored themes that resonated deeply with listeners. He had the ability to make you feel like the flyest person in the world, and then, just one track later, he could hit you with a gut punch, persuading you to question whether your actions were bringing you closer to your goals or pushing you further away.

We all remember the hits, classics like "Type of Way,” YG and Jeezy's “My Nigga,” or "Flex (Ooh, Ooh, Ooh).” But at its peak, Quan’s music was also incredibly emotionally resonant and empathic. Quan’s solo run in the early 2010s, particularly the classic Goin In trilogy, spoke to people’s everyday experiences, and it never came from a place of disrespect or contempt.

His early career success set the stage for one of hip-hop’s most important and influential moments—his earth-shattering link-up with post-1017 Thug-era Young Thug.

Fall 2014 was an unreal time to be in the city. The local scene was buzzing with a crop of dynamic new talent like Bankroll Fresh, the Awful Records crew, Peewee Longway, Rome Fortune, and Raury, among several genuine superstars, like Migos and Future. We were entering a new era of Atlanta hip-hop, and thanks to the classic mixtape Rich Gang: Tha Tour Pt. 1, Rich Homie Quan and Young Thug were at the center of the spotlight.

Before the release of the tape, Quan famously compared their partnership to Outkast and you could hear it in the music: the rap traditionalist with the ability to make melodic hits partnered up with the eclectic wild man. With mostly London on da Track production—which had a smooth piano-driven R&B feel to it—they created a “trap” sound that was palatable and boundary-pushing at the same time. Quan and Thug were the architects and they constructed a blueprint that directly influenced future artists like Gunna and Lil Baby. To put it bluntly: I don't think Atlanta becomes the Rap Capital without Rich Gang and Tha Tour.

You probably know the story from there. The two would have a falling out. Thug would become a superstar while Quan would walk down a more blue-collar path. After having the biggest hit of his career with “Flex (Ooh, Ooh, Ooh)” Quan cooled off. His creative output between 2015 and 2018 was riddled with hit-or-miss projects that just couldn’t stick. In 2018, he finally released his debut—and now singular—studio album Rich as in Spirit in 2018, and the fervor and excitement of his run in the early to mid-2010s appeared to have fizzled.

I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to interview Rich Homie Quan twice during the final chapter of his legendary career, and in those brief moments, when our lives intersected, I gained an even bigger appreciation for him.

The first interview occurred early in 2020 during an event where he was being honored by Pandora. Coma, his latest project at the time, had been out for about a month, so I was able to secure an interview. But here’s the thing—I was new in the field of hip-hop journalism. I also had my formative teenage years soundtracked by Quan and his contemporaries, so I was also a fan. Meeting Quan in person made a legend real and tangible for me. He was a star—taller than I expected, effortlessly “cool” in a famous rapper type of way, and super calm and collected in his demeanor. Yet despite appearing so reserved, his energy was far more magnetic than I could have possibly prepared for. Even years removed from when he was at his peak popularity, Quan had an incredibly commanding presence, and it felt like he was very comfortable and confident in being himself. As a 21-year-old fresh out of college, I was the complete opposite. Not even three minutes into the interview, it was becoming evident that I wasn't the best person for the job. I was stuttering and forgetting my questions, and right as I was about to panic, Quan offered me a life raft.

“You good, you good. Whatever you feelin’, I’m feelin’,” he reassured me. Then, right off the cuff, he jokingly shared with me the very Atlanta-coded advice, “Don’t get lost in the sauce.”

Decorated and accomplished artists typically don’t have the patience for star-struck novice interviewers, and even if Quan didn’t at that moment, he made sure that he didn’t show it. During a night when he was the main attraction and receiving so much good energy, he took the time to be kind and compassionate to someone just trying to find their way.

Two years after that, I interviewed Quan for HotNewHipHop in the lead-up to his sold-out 10-year anniversary concert for Still Goin In at the Tabernacle in Atlanta. Our interview was scheduled to coincide with one of his rehearsals at Marvelous Studios. I beat him there. Some of his family members—among them, his father Corey Lamar—made sure I was straight while I waited. Waiting on artists can be a drag, but in that moment, I was moved by how positive and family-driven that environment was. When our interview finally commenced, Quan reflected on how much his family meant to him.

“I really try to keep those at the forefront of my focus. God first, but other than that, family and money,” he told me.

His album, Family & Mula, was set to drop in a month, but even throughout all of the exciting events happening, he was still trying to make sense of 2022, a year when the city had to grapple with the YSL Rico arrests and the tragic losses of Lil Keed and Trouble. (Takeoff would be killed a couple of weeks later). Naturally, the topic of giving artists their flowers came up.

“I think it's very important for artists to get their flowers. As artists, sometimes we do be in a dark space, and we just need that confirmation. That confirmation helps with our creative ability," he told me. "That's why if I'm a fan of anybody, I'mma tell 'em. I ain't a hater, so I'll tell 'em, ‘Boy, you hard’ or ‘You inspired me.’”

For Quan, showing love was second nature. So I hope that in the end, he knew how much the city—and hip-hop fans all over—truly appreciated and loved him too.