J. Prince probably should have kept out of the Drake and Kendrick drama. Now, he’s getting dragged through the mud, and it’s not pretty. Known for his deep roots in Houston, J. Prince’s involvement in the drama has led to some serious allegations. People are now claiming he’s been working as a handler for Hollywood elites and even orchestrating the deaths of rappers on orders from powerful figures. Schoolboy Q is not holding back, bringing evidence to back up these claims.
If you’re following this story, you better stay tuned because it’s about to get wild. Remember when Schoolboy Q came to Houston recently? It wasn’t just for a performance—he took the chance to call out J. Prince Jr.’s “checking in” demands, dismissing them as an old joke. And honestly, he might have a point.
Meanwhile, J. Prince seems to be stuck in his old ways, allegedly still extorting money from rappers. Schoolboy Q hints that this might be more than just extortion—it could have even led to some deaths. But this whole extortion racket isn’t new. It goes way back to 18th-century Italy, where the mafia first perfected the “pay up or face the consequences” game. As they moved to the U.S., cities like Chicago, New York, and Philly fell under their influence, trembling at their demands.
American street gangs and organized crime quickly adapted to the growing hip-hop scene, and soon, extortion became a dark part of its culture. As rap money flowed, these groups wanted their cut, and extortion became almost embedded in hip-hop. Even the biggest stars couldn’t avoid it. In 2011, shocking FBI files revealed that the Jewish Defense League had been shaking down Tupac and other rap legends. The JDL was accused of making death threats against these artists and then offering protection—for a fee. It was a twisted kind of insurance with a dangerous edge. Eazy-E was also targeted; the FBI hinted that similar threats might have been involved in Tupac’s murder in Vegas.
Street gangs still use these tactics today, insisting that rappers check in when they come to town. This “check-in” is supposed to ensure that the artists can move around without getting robbed or worse. In exchange, rappers either pay for protection or let local artists open for them at their shows. Sometimes, the cost of this “protection” is more than just money—it could be your life.
Take Kanye West’s unsettling experience in Philly, for example. He was dining with friends when a group of shady characters showed up, not to order food, but to stare at him menacingly. Kanye knew what was happening and hid his jewelry while trying to stay low-key. Fortunately, Beanie Sigel, also known as the Broad Street Bully, stepped in. He made it clear that Kanye was under his protection and that no one would mess with him while he was around.
So when Kanye felt threatened and reached out for help, the word spread. And you showed up to support him, right?
So, you made it clear that while you were there, nothing was going to happen to Kanye, right?
Yeah, nothing was going to happen to him while I was around. But if you think Philly’s tough, just wait until you hear about Detroit. The Motor City has its own rules, and a lot of that comes down to a guy named Trick Trick. When rappers come to Detroit, they need to know about the no-fly zone Trick Trick set up. You show respect and pay your dues, or you won’t be performing in this city. On the “Bring Chams” podcast, Trick Trick talked about how record labels used to come to Detroit, make money off the local talent, and basically exploit the city’s artists. Trick Trick wasn’t having any of that. He made sure that only the locals were reaping the rewards of Detroit’s music scene. And those who tried to ignore the no-fly zone quickly found out Trick Trick was serious.
So, Trick Trick, for those who don’t know, what exactly is the no-fly zone?
The no-fly zone was all about keeping record labels in check. Back in the day, labels would have street teams and promo teams that brought artists to different cities. They’d come to Detroit, make money off local talent, and wouldn’t pay much attention to the local artists. They’d charge local artists to perform, even though those artists were bringing in huge crowds and generating revenue. It didn’t make sense to charge them while benefiting from their efforts. Plus, events like Summer Jams often featured artists from outside Detroit, while local artists had to pay to be part of it.
Wow, I was like, “Forget this, stop everything.” The only entertainment we had around here was going to be what we made of it. So, we’re going to check out what’s going on and let a few things in gradually. And if anyone steps out of line, we’ll deal with it.
If you think this only affects small artists, you’re in for a shock. Even Rick Ross, one of the biggest stars at the time, learned the hard way how serious a no-fly zone can be. When Ross tried to perform in Detroit without showing proper respect, he found out quickly that Trick Trick meant business. The show was canceled, and Ross couldn’t even get into the venue. It was a clear message that in some cities, you follow the rules or you don’t get to perform. When Ross talked about it, he brushed it off as just another day. His crew arrived at the venue only to find it locked up tight, and they knew something was up.
“So, we went to Detroit for a gig. My team always goes ahead of me, so I never even got to the venue. I never met the guys who were there. They never spoke to me or my team. The gates were locked, padlocked or whatever. There were supposed to be people there talking to the police. My team got there, and everything seemed peaceful. I didn’t even get to see what was going on. We thought they’d eventually back down, but they didn’t. I waited at Greektown Casino for the promoter to sort things out. Instead of answers, I heard rumors about a gang flexing their muscle. When no one clarified what was happening, I decided to take action. I got my payout—probably a good amount—but I was really frustrated that my fans were left waiting outside a locked venue. It wasn’t personal; it was business. But it still didn’t feel right.”
So, what do you think about the state of hip-hop today? It seems like the old ways of paying for protection are being replaced by more complex schemes.
Things have definitely changed, but the core issues are still there. It’s more of an evolution than a revolution. Hip-hop still grapples with deep-rooted problems, but as money and power shift, the stakes keep getting higher. At the end of the day, it’s all about survival, whether you’re dealing with street gangs or corporate pressure.