Put plainly: 1100 Himself — the ethereal, laidback lyricist whose drill raps embody East Oakland’s precariousness — is built different. Earlier this year, 1100 dropped 1300 My Cousin, a project that solidified his status as a rising talent whose rhymes conjure futuristic, gangster film noir. And more recently he dropped Leven Durant (a playful reference to the former Golden State Warrior), an album that outlines his trademark street exploits and summons the aura of a Lil B mixtape with its off-kilter lyrics and Photoshopped cover art. 

Put plainly: <a href="https://www.instagram.com/1100himself/">1100 Himself</a> — the ethereal, laidback lyricist whose drill raps embody East Oakland’s precariousness — is built different. Earlier this year, 1100 dropped <a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/14TZrWzVuBaQvanqDNVXF3">1300 My Cousin</a>, a project that solidified his status as a rising talent whose rhymes conjure futuristic, gangster film noir. And more recently he dropped <a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/1GETCs99FSZabm8MysGYYH">Leven Durant </a>(a playful reference to the former Golden State Warrior), an album that outlines his trademark street exploits and summons the aura of a Lil B mixtape with its off-kilter lyrics and<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/Cv22VOiPrSZ/"> Photoshopped cover art</a>.

KQED serves the people of Northern California with a community-supported alternative to commercial media. We provide citizens with the knowledge they need to make informed decisions; convene community dialogue; bring the arts to everyone; and engage audiences to share their stories.

KQED serves the people of Northern California with a community-supported alternative to commercial media. We provide citizens with the knowledge they need to make informed decisions; convene community dialogue; bring the arts to everyone; and engage audiences to share their stories.

Advertisement