I sat in my highschool music room, crowded with strange bodies and clicking wax pens. My beats blared off the KRK Rokit 7 speakers, and the popular boys performed cringy freestyles to my remedial music production. Many would not give me the time of day if I wasn’t the guy who crafted soundcloud rap beats that they didn’t know how to make. I stopped the music and switched through my folders, looking for something specific; a Playboi Carti “type beat” I had made the night before. The repetitive synths and trap drums came in hard, and the people around me started to nod their heads in praise.
The first time I heard the song “Magnolia”, I experienced a spontaneous brain freeze while trying to comprehend what I was listening to. It was something new and refreshing, like when Brent Faiyaz dropped Fuck the World in a sea of pop music. At the time, most of Playboi Carti’s music was produced by the artist Pierre Bourne, who pioneered an immediately recognizable 808 and synth heavy sound. Pierre Bourne’s signature sound set a standard for the ravenous underground and copycats emerged before the song “Magnolia” had even finished playing. The truth is, when a real Pierre Bourne beat comes on, you will know it. Bourne’s light hearted yet deliberately energetic production – and of course his iconic tag, “Yo Pierre, you wanna come out here?” – immediately matched up with Carti’s punctual flows. His style was dictated by quick abbreviated words and adlibs that were meant to fall into the pockets of a song’s groove more than convey a message. What Carti lacked in lyrical content, he made up for in confidence; like he knew it wasn’t that deep but still said it with unwavering certainty.
Prior to his current superstart status, a young Playboi Carti took the underground rap scene by storm. His expression of new Atlanta rap enchanted the kids who wore Zumiez purple camo pants like magic. Carti’s 2017 self-titled album, Playboi Carti, spoke to those who related, while simultaneously introducing my white classmates and me to milly rocking, trendy clothes, and Soundcloud rap; all of which were immediately appropriated through outfits and slang. Two boys in my school even began “claiming” that they had purchased knives, which they kept in their rooms, in an effort to “fend off the opps” in their gated suburban communities. They didn’t, but that’s beside the point. They did not understand that Carti’s music was meant to reference real life and lean into musical exploration. It was not an invitation, nor a justification, to bastardize his music into something it was not.
As the album plays along, the songs begin to foreshadow Playboi Carti’s career. Without any substantial mainstream notoriety, he talks about stardom and wealth as if he already has it. The bright synth patterns and trap drums of “‘wokeuplikethis*’ feat. Lil Uzi Vert” is almost like an uncanny tarot card reading of the lifestyle that Carti would soon experience. It is one of the gems from this album. Sitting as the fourth track, “wokeuplikethis*” brings a similar energy to “Magnolia” but with an added layer of autotuned vocal melodies. Naturally, Carti developed his initial sound with his next iconic album, Die Lit. Soon after this album, Pierre Bourne took a backseat and a new Carti was born. His 2020 album Whole Lotta Red was primarily produced by edgier producers such as F1LTHY. He went from the dreamy synths and catchy bass lines of Playboi Carti to an aggressive, distortion heavy sound. This is when he changed to “Opium” Carti. The VLONE and Playboy bunny neck tattoos became old news as he began getting upside down crosses and tattoos with darker themes. He retired his brand name Off-White clothing and donned all black clothes with gothic silver jewelry. His music followed suit. With his 2025 album, Music, F1LTHY helped him solidify his new sound. The aesthetic of Music was essentially the energy, darkness, and distortion of Whole Lotta Red but amplified and distilled. It is clear he has permanently shed the sound featured on songs like “Magnolia” and “wokeuplikethis*”.
I have found every album after Die Lit to be somewhat irrelevant despite their massive impact and mainstream success. His Playboi Carti album is the only one I still listen to, although I know many people who like his new music significantly more than his 2017 soundcloud music. Personally, I don’t believe that his newer hits such as “Sky” or “For the Rage” bring the same package as the tenth track, “dothatshit!”. “Dothatshit!” is like “Magnolia” in the sense that it is repetitive and catchy, but the beat features a lead flute melody and bell counter melody instead of heavy synth chords. The more you listen, the more sonic texture you hear. The lyricism is significantly more lackluster than most other songs on Playboi Carti, but it shines as an example of flow before meaning.
The songs and production of Playboi Carti is what pushed me to learn about beat making. 2017 is when I gravitated towards the party oriented people and discovered my creativity. Playboi Carti was, in some ways, one of my early coming of age soundtracks. It became connected to those I surrounded myself with, as well as my decisions and past times. I inevitably grew out of that life soundtrack and found new ones, but the infectiousness of youthful spontaneity and inebriation seemed to be unshakable. My peers who were once more wild than me shaped up, while the taste of college freedom proved to be unsustainable.
Carti is often lumped in with other rappers when critics condemn hip-hop for glorifying topics such as guns and drugs. The late rapper Juice WRLD, who was open about his extreme drug addiction, stated in an interview that rap music and musicians such as Future were the biggest influences in his decision to try drugs in the sixth grade. Soon after, in 2019, Juice WRLD tragically passed due to a drug overdose. He was only 21. Playboi Carti is far from innocent when it comes to these topics. For example, on Playboi Carti’s seventh track, “New Choppa (feat. A$AP Rocky),” he raps, “Take advantage of the sprite.” This is a fairly direct reference to lean, which is an artificially purple mixture of Codeine, Sprite, and sometimes Jolly Ranchers. Some say that Carti is not responsible for the decisions of others because he never explicitly encourages his listeners to partake in these activities, but many argue that the presence of any drug related lyrics push younger people to begin experimenting.
My neglect of responsibility and overindulgence was my own choice, but I was definitely exposed to many possibilities by artists such as Playboi Carti. I very quickly chose to live not in chaos and self absorption, but instead focussed on being a good son, brother, and student. The cognizance provided by two years of consecutive sobriety allowed me to listen to Playboi Carti as a chance to reclaim and redefine a point of my life that I had grown to hate. His music does not mean to me what it once did. Listening to his music in 2025 allows me to feel nostalgia, as well as reflect. My experience with his music is not bittersweet, it simply is. The next time “Magnolia” comes on at a party, I will acknowledge pain, progress, and joy, then happily sip flat diet coke out a red solo cup while awkwardly performing dance moves I haven’t used since highschool.
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