Son of the City - Mac Phillips

David Adams: Thank you guys for joining us today on the Elan Podcast. We’re here with Mack Phillips. How you doing, buddy?

Mack Phillips: I’m good, I’m good. How you doing?

David Adams: Good, man, good to see you.

Mack Phillips: Same, same. How you been?

David Adams: I’m good, I’m good.

Mack Phillips: You’re good, huh?

David Adams: Yeah, man. Just watching, adjusting, you know? We’re going to touch on this a little bit later, but I just want to give you your flowers quickly. Whether it means anything or not, I just want to say, man, I’m blown away by how easy you make this transition look—from coming home to being normal and getting back into life. I know it can’t be easy, and you blow me away with your humility and the thought process you bring to life and where you picture yourself in the future. It’s just incredible because, man, you could be dwelling on the negative where you were, right?

Mack Phillips: Dave, I appreciate that, number one. Secondly, I don’t take any credit for that—none at all. That’s just good parenting. That’s a big shout out to my parents. They instilled some things in all of their kids, and I was the oldest, so it stuck with me. I try to keep those values with me, and that’s what’s carried me through my life.

David Adams: Man, it’s crazy what good parents will teach you, character-wise. I mean, what good character will bring you through, right? You definitely went through it, but we’ll get into that a little bit later. Why don’t you tell us a bit about where you’re from, where you went to school—let’s get a little bit of the origin story.

Mack Phillips: Alright, so the weird thing is, it’s a complicated story. I was born and raised—or, well, raised, rather—in what I call Uptown, and what many call Uptown, but I don’t know if it’s actually Central City or not. But, you know, in New Orleans, we just call it what we want to call it, you know? So yeah, I’m from a ward that’s technically the 12th Ward, but we claim the 3rd Ward, so it really doesn’t matter—we just kind of do what we want to do.

David Adams: Sort of like the CJ Peete is right?

Mack Phillips: Right, right, the Magnolia. You just call it what you want. That’s what we do Uptown.

David Adams: It’s also the era you grew up in; it changes a little bit, right?

Mack Phillips: Yeah, yeah. So, that’s where I’m from. I went to two different high schools. I went to Fortier, which is Uptown, and then we moved to the 7th Ward, and I went to John McDonogh and graduated from John McDonogh in 1995.

David Adams: Alright, well, I heard you went to school with some bigger names in the industry, like Juvenile. Did you go to school with Juvenile?

Mack Phillips: Yeah, well, me and Juvenile went to Fortier together, the first school I was at. We went there, and I think Juvie was in the band, if I’m not mistaken.

David Adams: Do you know what he played?

Mack Phillips: I can’t remember exactly. I know his cousin—or maybe it was his uncle—was the band instructor. The school is actually named after him now.

David Adams: Wow, that’s crazy! Were you and Juvie friends back then?

Mack Phillips: Yeah, we were cool. I’d say we were associates. We knew mutual people, and we were cool with each other.

David Adams: What was he like back then?

Mack Phillips: He was cool, you know? High school, into the band—he was like one of those band heads, into the music, into the girls. He’s always been a fly cat.

David Adams: Absolutely. So, when did you start wanting to rap?

Mack Phillips: Rap for me started in 1984. I was about seven years old. I remember back then, there were only a few people I could reference. You had the Sugarhill Gang, of course, and Run-D.M.C. had just come out around that time. There were groups like the Gucci Crew, U.T.F.O., stuff like that. That was that era. I’ll never forget hearing “Mr. Telephone Man” by New Edition, and at the end of the song, Ralph does a little rap. He’s like, “Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky, and Mike,” and I’m like, “I can’t sing, but I could do that!” So, that was it from there—I just fell in love with hip-hop.

David Adams: Did you start writing right away, or how did that start?

Mack Phillips: I started writing right away. I wrote my first song and started getting into talent shows when I was like eight. It just became a passion, a natural ability. By the time I was nine years old, I had figured out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I know that sounds insane, but I was just that stubborn.

David Adams: It wasn’t knowledge or confidence—it was just stubbornness?

Mack Phillips: Yeah, exactly. This is what I wanted to do, and I had the audacity to do it.

David Adams: You know what, man? That goes back to character. If you ask me, you figured out who you wanted to be, and you stood on it. That’s where the stubbornness came in, and that’s probably the part my parents wanted to kick my tail for. Once I lock in on something, it doesn’t make sense to talk to me about it—just let me go through it because I’m going to do it.

David Adams: But that’s what gets you through as an adult, right? All the crap you deal with, that stubbornness is what gets you through those waters. It reveals your boundaries—it’s like, “He’s not going to take this, he’s not going to take that, he’s going to stand on this.” What we call stubbornness, the youngsters now call it standing on business, whatever that means.

Mack Phillips: Yeah, standing on business.

David Adams: Well, you’ve been standing for a long time. Like, you got business.

David Adams: So, I know you signed your first deal when you were young. When was that?

Mack Phillips: As I was saying, I started getting into talent shows and stuff. My uncle was good friends with some guys in the neighborhood who had a record out at the time. This was a group called The Ninja Crew, which consisted of Sporty T, who’s passed away now—rest in peace, Sporty—and Gregory D, who’s from New Orleans. They were from the neighborhood and actually had a song out. So, imagine in 1986, hip-hop is in its early stages, and we have a group from New Orleans with a song on the radio. That in itself was like, “Okay, this can be done.” The guys who did it just so happened to be two of my uncle’s partners. I’d see these guys every day—they’re in and out of my grandmother’s house, playing basketball in the neighborhood. So, I’m like, “Alright, cool,” and I start taking it seriously, getting into talent shows. My uncle went to them and was like, “Man, I need y’all to hear my nephew.” So, they heard me, and by then, I had started a group in the neighborhood. They heard all of us rap, and Gregory D was like, “Lil Mack, if I ever get an opportunity, I’m coming back to get you.” I’m like, “Cool.”

Mack Phillips: The following year, I did a talent show—a citywide talent show. I think it was at Delgado, but it starts with a D—I can’t remember the exact place, but whatever it was, I did the talent show. I grabbed three of my partners, we wrote a song, it was a rapping about HIV or drugs contest. The prize was like $500, and I wanted that $500, and I won.

David Adams: What did you talk about? HIV and drugs?

Mack Phillips: Yeah, both. You could do either or, but I just did both. We had a whole routine about both, and I just have to say, we were far more advanced than the other people in the contest. We actually had our own tracks and everything. My cousin Wiz found a producer to do our beat, and we got in the talent show and won. So, while we were there, I would later find out that the guy who made the decision to sign me to the label was in the audience. He was there, and he talked to Greg and them about me. Not long after, I signed a record deal with Two Hype Productions, which was Gregory D and a locally known DJ at the time from the 7th Ward, who is now the legendary Mannie Fresh.

David Adams: Okay.

Mack Phillips: So, that’s who I signed my first record deal with. I began recording at Mannie’s mama’s house in the 7th Ward, in the scatter sites. We were in the hood—we’re talking about the trenches. Mannie had a room that was probably the size of this little green room space. There was a bed and nothing but music equipment everywhere in there. So, we were in there day in and day out, recording the project. Mannie is the one who helped me structure songs.

David Adams: Okay.

Mack Phillips: Because before, I was just writing long—my raps didn’t end. Mannie was like, “No, Lil Mack, you gotta have 16 bars here, you gotta have an 8-bar chorus,” and he kind of taught me how to structure songs.

David Adams: That’s crazy, man. Those trenches days, there’s nothing that brings back those memories. Those memories are really entrenched in what kind of forms you a little bit.

Mack Phillips: Oh yeah, yeah. And Mannie was a sneakerhead. He literally had this room with nothing but a bed, a bunch of music equipment, and a barrel full of sneakers. He had a barrel in the room full of sneakers, and I’ll never forget—he was the first person I ever met that had probably over 200 pairs of sneakers, way back then.

David Adams: Way back then, right?

Mack Phillips: That’s awesome.

David Adams: So, I know we’ll talk about Master P in a minute. You kind of have both sides, right? Before Mannie had Cash Money, you were with Mannie. Was there a difference in production that you could point out between that side and when you ended up with No Limit?

Mack Phillips: I think they both were distinctive. I think Mannie’s sound was more catered to the New Orleans club/bounce audience. I mean, I can’t say it was catered to them—he actually tailor-made that sound. That sound that Mannie eventually created became the New Orleans club/bounce sound. Mannie was a DJ who had a very distinctive way of mixing, and all of that came out in his music. The No Limit sound—I think the anchor of the No Limit sound would probably be KLC. KLC was likewise a DJ who was doing his thing Uptown, and he was also a band head. So, KLC’s sound, I think, was more catered towards the snare section of the band. He always had those drum rolls in there, so that’s where I think the distinction came about.

David Adams: That makes a lot of sense. And a lot of stuff that P and y’all did was very musical at the beginning. Some of those intros were very musical, very orchestral.

Mack Phillips: Yeah, and I think back then, hip-hop was probably more melodic.

David Adams: Well, because it took from those spaces. It didn’t just create hip-hop off of two chords—hip-hop created off of bringing other sounds in and making it hip-hop. So, there were a lot of musical melodies and notes that they enjoyed flipping.

Mack Phillips: Right.

David Adams: So, I definitely believe it was much more musical back then.

Mack Phillips: Yeah, and I think that gives it more freedom, just being able to move around, take pieces of this, pieces of that, and put it together to create something. Your voice, in the end, is just an instrument. So, if it fits right, it fits right.

David Adams: That’s true. Tell us a little bit about how you and No Limit connected. How did that whole situation happen?

Mack Phillips: Man, it’s probably a list of people that led to what eventually became my signing with Master P. But I think the first person I would give credit to for even mentioning Master P to me was my cousin Scannu, who was part of the rap group Prime Suspects at No Limit, who is now deceased—rest in peace to Scannu. His rap name was New Nine, and he actually played in “I’m Bout It” as Half Pint. I remember he came to me on the basketball court, and he was like, “Cuz, man, I want you to meet my partner C.” He brought C-Murder around there, and that’s how I met C, playing basketball. He was like, “Man, his brother got the record label, man. I know you’re doing the rap thing.” At the time, I was listening to him, but I was so into the East Coast sound that I wasn’t even really thinking about that. I was like, “Nah, I’m good.” I was listening to him, but it wasn’t really my fit—or so I thought.

Mack Phillips: Around that same time, I started hanging with David and Daniel, which is Kane & Abel. Around that time, I was hanging with them and going to their apartment at Xavier, where they had their music equipment. They were working on stuff while going to Xavier, and at the time, they called themselves Double Vision. So, I was running with them around that same time, and they wound up signing with Master P and then asked me to get on a song. The first song I did with a No Limit artist was called “Gats and Guns” on Kane & Abel’s “7 Sins” album.

David Adams: I remember that.

Mack Phillips: Yeah, we did that song. And get this—this is why I signed with Master P. Mind you, I had been in the music business since, at that time, when I met Master P in ’97, I had been in the music business since ’88 or ’89. So, it was almost 10 years, and I never got paid. He paid me for that verse, and I was like, “Yo, alright, this is something different. I can actually get a check from doing this.” I think that was part of the determining factor when the offer was made to me. KLC and Mia X, unbeknownst to me, had already been telling P, “Yo, you need to check out this cat. He’s going to give us a different sound. He’s a different artist and will be somebody that can compete with some of these East Coast artists.”

Mack Phillips: So, I went to the Gavin Music Convention when it was down here. DJ Wop had a meeting set up with me and Kevin Liles, who is now the head of 300 Entertainment, Young Thug’s label. Kevin Liles at the time was working for Def Jam. I went to Kevin Liles’ room, I spit for him, I played my demo, and he loved it. He was interested and was telling me that maybe I needed to come out to New York. I was like, “Man, I gotta think about that,” because when I left, I’m like, “Man, I’m 19, and I was conscious enough to know that I knew artists who had records out that weren’t making any money. If I go all the way out here to New York and don’t make any money, I’m stuck in New York. I don’t know anybody out here. Alright, cool.”

Mack Phillips: So, I left that room, shook his hand on a positive note, and me and Wop left the room, got on the elevator. Master P, KLC, all of them were on the elevator. P was like, “Man, we got a party upstairs. Come upstairs.” So, I go upstairs to the party, and P was like, “Man, come to the studio Thursday with KLC.” I never came back home. So, that’s how that happened. I went to the studio that Thursday, and I did like three songs in one night. I remember them vividly. One called “Trying to Do Something” with Fiend on the “Ghetto D” album, one called “We Riders.”

David Adams: I remember “Trying to Do Something.”

Mack Phillips: Yeah, “We Riders,” “Trying to Do Something,” and “Only Time Will Tell.” We did all those songs in one night. I came there that night, did them songs—I was hungry. I just made it to the studio, I’m ready to roll. I did them three that night, and that’s what started everything.

David Adams: Bruh, that’s crazy. You just mentioned those three because that was a big part of my life growing up. Those three were definitely a big part of what I played, and for me, those were like firsts—your first car.

Mack Phillips: Yeah.

David Adams: It was good. I had my 32s and my Alpine, and “Trying to Do Something” was definitely going to get the girls’ attention. You ride by the girls.

Mack Phillips: 100%, man.

David Adams: No, so it’s crazy. That’s nuts. If you want to scare somebody, you ride by with “We Riders.”

Mack Phillips: Yeah.

David Adams: What’s funny is actually the bass on “We Riders” used to knock my speakers so bad, they’d vibrate off the bookshelf.

Mack Phillips: You gotta blame KLC. KLC had a Suburban—I never forget it. The only way I can describe this Suburban is that it was a speaker itself. I hated getting in that Suburban because this dude had so many speakers in there, and he used to listen to it so loud. I’m surprised KLC isn’t deaf right now. He should have no more eardrums right now. We used to get in there, and that was one of the songs—the bass in that song was crazy.

David Adams: Hell yeah. So, I know it took a long time from your first album that you put out to the album you put out with Master P. What were you doing in between time?

Mack Phillips: I was doing projects—they just never really reached beyond the city. Like, right after I left the record deal with Yo! Records, which is who I did the first project with in ’89, Mannie was trying to find a deal for me, my cousin Wiz, and my DJ Wop, rest in peace. So, we started a group called Three Flavas. We had more of a straight-up Tribe Called Quest type of Southern hardcore style around that time. We were doing that type of sound, and it was dope—we just never could. I guess down here, it was hard to find a market for that in this region. I think if we would have been in New York, we would’ve been straight, but it was just hard to market that sound in this region because by then, bounce music was sweeping across New Orleans. If you weren’t bouncing, nobody wanted to hear you.

Mack Phillips: So, we did that. After that, I hooked up with my homegirl Storm, and we started a group. We signed with a record label called Ionic Records at the time. So, this is around ’94, ’95. I’m a senior in high school, going to the studio. It was a nice studio—state-of-the-art studio—on top of Canal Place. We were recording there, and we released a single called “Mad or Jealous.” Once again, I found myself in a situation where some people were trying to market our type of hip-hop in a region that really wasn’t ready for it because me and Storm were like a more hardcore version of Digable Planets. I just don’t think the region was ready for it.

Mack Phillips: At the same time, I was doing collaborations with Psycho Ward, which was my crew. Psycho Ward was pretty much having the same issue that me and Storm were having because Psycho Ward was like the New Orleans version of Wu-Tang. So, it was just kind of hard to market that in this region.

David Adams: Right.

Mack Phillips: So, I was doing projects—they just weren’t scratching the surface. But one opportunity came in ’96 where the studio that me and Storm recorded at, Ionic Records, where we were actually on the label—I had my own pre-production room in there. So, I used to leave school and just go in there and work on beats and stuff. While I’m in there one day, Cash Money was in there. They had blocked out studio time at that particular studio to do BG’s “Chopper City” album. I’ve known BG since he was like six or seven years old. So, when I was in my room working on a beat, he came in while they were working on “Chopper City,” and he was like, “Mack, I want you to hear this beat Fresh got, man.” I’m like, “Alright.” So, I go in, and he said, “I want you to spit something.” So, we wind up doing a song together called “Niggas in Trouble” on “Chopper City”—on the first “Chopper City.” So, that was an opportunity for me to get my voice heard outside of New Orleans at that time. That was probably the first time outside of New Orleans that people knew this dude here raps.

Mack Phillips: So, I ran with BG for a hot second. I guess I flirted with the idea of signing with Cash Money, but I just felt that at the time, nobody knew how to market what I did. I think it was just hard to market that in a city that was so into bounce at the time.

David Adams: It’s funny because you say that. I feel like Cash Money definitely has a pigeonhole, in a sense, of what they can market because Jacquees is a great artist, and he’s out, but he’s not out-out.

Mack Phillips: Right, right.

David Adams: You know what I mean? He’s not Drake. There’s a weird thing with Cash Money where they can’t necessarily do different artists, in my opinion. They have to kind of do the pop artist.

Mack Phillips: Right. I totally understand that perspective, but I don’t know if it’s that they can’t. I think they know what works, so they stick to it. And I understand that—when you have a formula that’s working, you keep to it. It’s like when I got with No Limit, I just watched because, remember, I had been doing it so long, and I knew what the issue was with my style. So, I was like, “Man, everywhere I go, it’s like people really don’t know how to market what I do.” So, when I got to No Limit, I just became a student. I just studied what they were doing, looked at how they were doing it, and I thought, “Okay, now I’m about to take what I do, and I’m about to compress it into this mold of what I see them doing.” Because I’m a company man—if this is what’s working and this formula is what’s working, I’m going to go with it, let’s roll with it. Nobody told me that—I wasn’t pressured to do that.

David Adams: Well, so I was going to ask you because a lot of people say P massages the way you’re supposed to rap or be on a track.

Mack Phillips: Well, I don’t even think he knew how to tell me that because I think he knew that when he was signing me, I was something totally left field. I don’t really think that he even knew how to do that with me, if that’s even a thing. I just think that with me, it was like I come there, I paid attention to what was working, and I was like, “It doesn’t make sense to rewrite the wheel or remake the wheel. Let me just keep it rolling.” I’m seeing these things spitting out, and this amount of money keeps coming out of them. And the check’s coming.

David Adams: Yeah, let me go right into that. Well, tell me how “I Can Tell” came to be. You know I can tell—it was crazy because “I Can Tell” wasn’t even—I mean, because we were all bumping that at Sops. That was our jam.

Mack Phillips: Yeah, and what’s crazy is—I didn’t understand the success of “I Can Tell” until I got out of prison.

David Adams: Right.

Mack Phillips: Because I got locked up right after that was released. And the weird thing is, it wasn’t written for me. Like, I put that song together for Mercedes’ album. That was just something—I won’t say I threw it together because throwing it together would be like I didn’t care about her project. No, but it was something that we done on the whim, just quick, you know what I mean? It was just like, “Alright, we need to come up with something.” And OK, KLC played the beat, I’m listening, me and my boy Jao sitting right there. So, I thought of the chorus—I’m like, “Ghetto Superstars.” And he went, “You ain’t gotta say too much.” I said, “Let’s go.” We went in there, and the rap was fast—just that fast. And I didn’t really know what—I never even got a chance to perform that before I got locked up.

David Adams: That’s crazy, bruh.

Mack Phillips: I’m in prison—this is how I knew how big it had become. I had officers come up to me, and they’re like, “Yo, I just want to tell you that I made my first child listen to this song.” I was like, “You serious?”

David Adams: Yeah.

Mack Phillips: But I didn’t know. I’m in prison, so I had no idea what that stuff was doing on the streets. When I got out, I remember my first time doing it in concert, and I just looked at the crowd, and I was like, “This is insane.”

David Adams: Yeah.

Mack Phillips: That song was huge, bruh.

David Adams: I mean, that’s crazy. It was you—I mean, there wasn’t anybody that wasn’t listening to it in my era growing up. It’s just crazy that you didn’t get to feel that. So, I guess we could talk a little bit about that now because that’s where we’re at. I did want to ask you—what was your favorite group to be a part of, 504 Boyz or Psycho Ward?

Mack Phillips: Favorite to be a part of? I don’t know if I had a particular favorite. I just think that both of them represented two different eras in my life and two different times, two different aspects of my personality. I think Psycho Ward definitely represents the more creative, the more passionate about hip-hop side. They represent that because a lot of those brothers—we banded because of our love for the music and our passion for it. Whereas the 504 Boyz represent the hustle. And that’s also a part of my personality as well. I just think that they represent different sides.

David Adams: Okay, well, that makes sense. But I guess let’s talk a little bit about—you already kind of tipped on it—I was actually going to ask you if you were shell-shocked about the Billboard 200 chart for your album and the national success that it got.

Mack Phillips: Well, shell-shocked, yeah. When “Shell Shocked” hit the streets, man, it got some national attention. I was 20 years old—just about to turn 21. "Shell Shocked" was recorded in 1997 and '98, and it was released in 1998, just before my 21st birthday. I think "Shell Shocked" was just me telling the world, “I’m here, and I ain’t going nowhere.” That album was my way of kicking in the door, saying, “I’m in this rap game to stay, and I want y’all to be on notice that I want to be the best rapper in the world.” That was my mentality at the time, and "Shell Shocked" was just a result of that feeling.

David Adams: You were bold, wild, and in-your-face with that one. The success it got—did it surprise you, or were you expecting it?

Mack Phillips: I wasn’t surprised by the success it got, but I wanted it to go even further. In fact, I felt it wasn’t pushed enough. I believed that if it had been pushed harder, it would have gone further because I believed in what we did with that album. I covered all the aspects of my personality and probably the average guy in the hood’s personality at that time. But yeah, I think the sheer volume of albums coming out of No Limit at the time might have diluted its push. We were putting out an album every two weeks back then. It was insane.

David Adams: Man, I had no more room for posters in my room back then! It was like a new album dropping every time I turned around.

Mack Phillips: Exactly, it was crazy. But it was good to know that "Shell Shocked" touched people. I just wish I could have been more out there to bring it to the world. My favorite track on "Shell Shocked" has to be “Slow Your Roll.” But in terms of production, my favorite beat was on “Murder Murder.” That beat was insane.

David Adams: What made “Murder Murder” your favorite?

Mack Phillips: It was the way it came about. Me and KLC were riding in his Suburban—man, that loud-ass Suburban—and we were listening to Method Man, a track from the "Batman Forever" soundtrack. Right after the Method Man track, there was a song where a lady was singing, "Anytime the hunter gets captured by the game..." I was like, "KLC, I need you to sample that right now." We went to the studio, he sampled it, and by the time he got his hands on it, it was a beast. That was my favorite track on "Shell Shocked."

David Adams: That’s awesome, man. You got to flex your creative side on that one.

Mack Phillips: Definitely. Now, let’s talk about some serious stuff—about the night that changed your life. February 20th, 2000. Can you walk us through what happened?

Mack Phillips: Yeah, man. That night… I had just made it back in town. I was on tour. I was supposed to be celebrating, but I felt like I needed to check on my brother. So, I went to see him. Before I could take one step, I heard shots ring out. And then… I did the dumbest thing I could’ve done. I reacted. And that reaction… that changed my life.

David Adams: That moment led to everything that followed.

Mack Phillips: Yeah. That was it. That one reaction set off a chain of events that changed everything for me. It was a night that I’ll never forget, and it’s something I have to live with every day.

David Adams: Man, that’s heavy. It’s a tough thing to revisit, but it’s important for people to hear your story, to understand the weight of the choices we make.

Mack Phillips: Absolutely. It’s something that I’ve had to reflect on a lot—how one moment can change your entire life. But you learn from it, and you try to move forward, even when it’s hard.

David Adams: We appreciate you sharing that with us, Mack. We’ll dive deeper into that in part two of our conversation. For now, I just want to thank you for being here and for being so open with us.

Mack Phillips: Thanks for having me, man. It’s been real.

David Adams: That’s it for part one on the Elan Podcast with Mack Phillips. Join us later for part two, where we’ll continue this conversation and explore more about Mack’s journey and the lessons he’s learned along the way. Thanks for tuning in..