The story starts with a temperature check—half joy, half weight—and turns into a masterclass on how a name from the streets becomes a role with responsibility. Razor walks us through the years that forged him: sports before music, the Out of Order days with Stax Ruger, and the tough lesson of celebrating a win too early when a Meek hook slipped away. Pride kept him distant when OBH first called, but a single cipher—and a well-timed hoodie swap—shifted everything. From that moment, he carried the flag while Ab was away, built real momentum, and earned the kind of co-sign you get by showing up, not talking.

We zoom out to the movement: OBH’s footprint across cities and stages, the DVD-era DNA that still powers Philly energy, and the chemistry that lit up a room during the pool table classic with General Reezy. Razor explains why strategy beats antics, why timing matters, and how to navigate rooms with a chessboard mind-set. Then the pivot lands: Help Me Help Them, the nonprofit he formalized after a moment of regret. Weekly feedings turned into grants, partners, and truck routes for block cleanups—proof that “Original Brotherhood” isn’t just a rebrand, it’s a new center of gravity for OBH’s next chapter.

As president, Razor lays out the job in plain terms: remove friction for Leak Moss, set standards, coordinate artists, clear releases, and pull the right levers for shows, press, and partnerships. The roster is active, the phones stay warm, and the focus is on quality over chaos. We also bring in Black to unveil “Baddies & Ballers,” a Philly-rooted reality show built to be unscripted, regional, and real—designed for people with lives, kids, and jobs, and powered by a production team that shows up. Along the way, we spar over Philly legends, producers who shaped the city, and battle rap killers who still set the bar.

If you care about leadership, legacy, and what it takes to flip a narrative without losing your core, you’ll feel this one. Tap play, ride with us through the stories and the strategy, and then tell us: what should OBH drop first in 2025? Subscribe, share, and leave a review to put more fuel behind the brotherhood.

Raw, unfiltered, and deeply human – Trap Queen Sy Money pulls you into the gritty reality of North Philadelphia’s streets and the remarkable journey of redemption that followed. From boosting merchandise as a child to orchestrating bank robberies, and eventually serving nearly a decade in federal prison, Sy’s story is a masterclass in transformation without losing your core identity.

“I started young,” Sy reveals, describing how watching older hustlers with nice things shaped her ambitions in an environment where legitimate opportunities seemed scarce. What begins as shoplifting evolves into a criminal career that eventually lands her behind bars for 9 years and 8 months – a sentence she recounts with the precision of someone who counted every day.

The prison experience becomes the unexpected catalyst for profound change. “As African-Americans, we’re taught suppression,” Sy explains, detailing how rehabilitation programs forced her to process trauma instead of burying it. These insights help her recognize toxic patterns and environments that previously pulled her back into criminal behavior.

Perhaps most fascinating is how Sy transforms her street smarts into entrepreneurial success upon release. She opens Sauce Palace restaurant on Ridge Avenue, writes “Rising Beyond the Bars” to help others transitioning from incarceration, and builds genuine connections with figures like Lil’ Kim during her time inside. Her philosophy – “I’m never going to stop being me, I’m just going to deny access to certain things” – offers a powerful framework for change without abandonment of authentic self.

This conversation goes beyond typical redemption narratives to explore the psychology of criminal behavior, the challenge of rebuilding life after incarceration, and the hard lessons about who deserves access to your energy. For anyone struggling with their past or fighting for a better future, Sy’s journey proves that your history is just the beginning of your story, not its conclusion.

Want more raw, real conversations that dive deep into Philly culture and extraordinary life journeys? Subscribe to the Real Ones podcast and join us as we continue to showcase voices that define resilience and transformation.

Ready to transform how you think about making money in the content era? BK Brasco sits down with Rilla and White Boy D2A to drop serious game about building wealth through subscription-based content models that leave traditional platforms in the dust.

Growing up between the contrasting neighborhoods of Clinton Hills and Brownsville, Brooklyn, BK learned early that resilience and vision were his tickets out. “My grandmother told me she always knew I’d be alright,” he shares. “If somebody tells you no, you’re gonna find another way.” This mindset carried him from street dreams to multi-million dollar record deals, touring with superstars across 29 countries, and eventually creating his own media empire.

The real gold in this conversation comes when BK reveals exactly how he’s generating $61,000 monthly from just 10,000 followers through his subscription network. “YouTube takes a chunk of your money,” he explains, contrasting this with his WULF Network where creators keep virtually all revenue. In just three months, his first show generated $185,000 – showcasing the untapped potential of cutting out middlemen in the content game.

BK doesn’t just talk success; he breaks down the mental shifts necessary to achieve it. “When you win at a high level and you fall, forget everything like it never happened,” he advises, explaining how living in the past prevents progress. His philosophy of continuous pivoting has allowed him to evolve from music to reality TV to network ownership, proving his mantra that “you weren’t born to just do one thing.”

Whether you’re an aspiring entrepreneur, content creator, or someone looking to diversify your income streams, this episode delivers actionable insights about reclaiming your financial power through ownership and direct monetization. As BK puts it, “It’s the era of content. If you can’t get money in this era of life, I don’t know what’s wrong with you.”

Follow BK Brasco and the WULF Network to witness firsthand how he’s revolutionizing media ownership in the digital age, and subscribe to Real Ones for more game-changing conversations about success on your own terms.

From humble beginnings in Norristown to becoming a battle rap icon, Bill Collector pulls back the curtain on his extraordinary journey through hip-hop’s most competitive arena. With refreshing candor, he reveals how watching local legends like Cheek, Raw, and Vodka inspired him to pick up the pen at just 12 years old, leading to impromptu battles in barbershops, colleges, and even fashion shows.

Bill’s authenticity shines as he recounts his unconventional path to fame – battling his way into the spotlight while simultaneously navigating legal troubles. “That’s when y’all see me battle John John, Clean Paper, Shotgun Suge, Tech Nine… I’m on the run,” he reveals, painting a vivid picture of performing at sold-out venues while evading authorities. This juxtaposition of growing stardom against personal struggles offers a rare glimpse into the unseen realities behind battle rap glory.

What truly sets Bill Collector apart was his strategic decision to showcase personality in a landscape dominated by tough-talking personas. “I came in the game playing. I did that on purpose,” he explains. “I showcased my entertainment value over that gangster shit.” This approach not only made him instantly memorable but laid the groundwork for his evolution during the pandemic, when battles moved to camera-only formats. Without crowds, Bill unleashed his technical prowess, transforming from an entertaining performer to a complete battle rapper feared for his pen game.

Now focused on creating opportunities for the next generation through his Southern Death Battle League, Bill represents the heart of battle rap culture – resilience, creativity, and constant evolution. Whether you’re a battle rap enthusiast or simply appreciate authentic stories of perseverance, Bill Collector’s journey demonstrates how staying true to yourself while adapting to change creates lasting impact in hip-hop culture. Subscribe now to hear more unfiltered conversations with the cultural architects shaping our world.

When Stack Bundles and Chinx Drugz were tragically taken from the hip-hop community, Far Rockaway lost its voice. Now, Keen Streetz is picking up that torch with a vengeance, bringing bars back to the forefront in an era where lyricism often takes a backseat.

In this raw and revealing conversation, Streetz opens up about his unique journey from Queens to becoming Jim Jones’ protégé—a relationship that began with Jones silently evaluating him for nearly two years before finally acknowledging his talent. “He was plotting on me the whole time,” Streetz reflects with a laugh, describing how that patience led to him landing on six tracks of Jones’ acclaimed album “At The True Steps,” catching the attention of tastemakers like Joe Budden who demanded to know: “Who the fuck is this?”

Streetz’s strategic approach to his career stands out in today’s landscape. When others abandoned bars, he locked himself away for six months writing freestyle after freestyle, preparing for opportunities that eventually came knocking at Sway in the Morning and Hot 97. His preparation extended to collaborations with heavyweights like Conway the Machine and Benny the Butcher—always arriving with finished records rather than concepts, maximizing every opportunity.

What makes Streetz’s perspective particularly valuable is his understanding of both hip-hop’s traditions and its evolving platforms. He respects radio’s historical importance while recognizing content creators as the new gatekeepers, bridging the gap between purist values and contemporary distribution methods.

For anyone who believes bars still matter, King Streetz represents hope that authentic lyricism can still cut through in today’s musical landscape. As he puts it himself: “I’m going to learn from this. I’m going to do this and that and I’m going to hold it down.”

Reggie Baby’s rise from the Chicago streets to comedy stardom wasn’t planned—it was pure serendipity. When his brother threw fireworks in his room, triggering his PTSD from being shot three times, the recorded reaction went viral overnight. Major accounts like 50 Cent and The Shade Room reposted it, catapulting Reggie into the social media spotlight alongside contemporaries like Fatboy SSE during the 2017-2018 creator wave.

What makes Reggie’s story remarkable is how he transformed an authentic moment into a sustainable career. His Chicago catchphrase “On my kids” became his signature brand without calculation, repeated so often in his content that fans began echoing it back to him everywhere he went. The monetization journey was equally organic—Reggie admits he didn’t even know what “promo” meant in his DMs until someone explained people wanted to pay him for promotion.

The conversation takes a powerful turn when Reggie discusses his prison experience, a period that forced introspection and renewed his drive. “I’m famous in jail but I’m in this motherfucker with these niggas,” he reflects, describing the jarring disconnect between his public persona and his circumstances. This pivotal moment reshaped his approach to his career, pushing him beyond comedy into various entertainment avenues.

Now with 2.2 million followers after rebuilding from a deleted account, Reggie has expanded his vision beyond content creation. He’s developing “Beyond the Block,” a platform for artists, and aims to transition into acting and business ownership. “I just want to be wealthy,” he states simply, envisioning himself in a few years as a suited businessman rather than just a comedian.

Ready to witness the evolution of one of social media’s most authentic voices? Tap that subscribe button and follow Reggie’s journey from accidental comedian to entertainment entrepreneur.

Ever wondered what really happens behind the scenes of cosmetic procedures? Dr. Aaron Fletcher pulls back the curtain on plastic surgery in the Black community with a candid conversation that goes far beyond before-and-after photos.

What makes this discussion unique is Dr. Fletcher’s unexpected journey—from an English major at Morehouse College with dreams of becoming the next Spike Lee to receiving what he describes as a spiritual calling to become a surgeon. His perspective bridges medical expertise with cultural understanding, offering insights rarely shared in mainstream discussions about body modification.

The conversation tackles psychological aspects of cosmetic surgery head-on, with Dr. Fletcher revealing why he turns down more patients than he accepts. “If you just came out of a bad relationship or domestic abuse situation and you’re looking for revenge surgery, that’s not the time to make a life-altering decision,” he explains. This ethical approach stands in stark contrast to surgeons who prioritize profit over patient wellbeing.

Perhaps most importantly, Dr. Fletcher addresses the dangerous trend of pursuing body modifications without basic health screenings. Many patients lack primary care physicians, attempting major surgeries while managing undiagnosed conditions like high blood pressure or diabetes. He describes the recovery process rarely shown on social media—the bleeding, the painful healing, and the months spent unable to sit normally after procedures like BBLs.

Cultural influences receive thoughtful analysis too, from the Kardashian effect on beauty standards to how Michael Jackson’s surgeries created lasting misconceptions about rhinoplasty results for Black patients. Dr. Fletcher emphasizes his commitment to natural-looking results that enhance rather than fundamentally alter appearance, especially for clients who may have been historically underserved by conventional plastic surgery approaches.

Whether you’re considering a cosmetic procedure, concerned about a loved one’s choices, or simply interested in the complex relationship between beauty standards and self-image, this episode offers valuable perspective from someone who understands both the scalpel and the soul behind the transformation decision.

The raw streets of Philadelphia have birthed countless stories, but few are told with the honesty and perspective offered by Easy Money Teef and FS Bender. In this gripping conversation, these two rising artists—often called “the leaders of the YNs”—open up about their journey from neighborhood conflicts to music careers while carrying the weight of lost friends and opportunities.

Growing up in North Philly’s project housing shaped their worldview, with influential grandmothers who taught them early hustle and survival. “My grandma was the first person that passed me my first brown paper bag full of money,” Teef reveals, highlighting how family dynamics in their communities often defied conventional expectations.

What sets this discussion apart is its focus on growth and responsibility. Rather than glorifying their pasts, both artists speak candidly about wanting better for the generation coming up behind them. “We want to get the youngest to the part of life where they get to start enjoying life,” they emphasize, acknowledging that their own paths were marked by losses that could have been avoided.

The conversation takes a powerful turn when addressing “survivor’s remorse”—the complex emotions that come with achieving success while watching peers fall to violence or incarceration. FS Bender, who describes himself as “one of the last men standing,” shares the emotional burden of moving forward while honoring those who didn’t make it.

Beyond the serious moments, their personalities shine through during playful debates about hip-hop legends and music preferences, revealing the cultural knowledge that informs their artistry. They also push back against being labeled simply as “drill rappers,” insisting on defining their own sound: “I’m from Philly, I rep 234. I ain’t no fucking drill rapper, that’s some Chicago shit.”

Share, like, subscribe, and comment on this episode that bridges generations, offering wisdom for anyone navigating difficult circumstances while pursuing their dreams. The real ones always find a way forward.

50 Cent took a jab at Ice Cube’s remake of War of the Worlds, despite not having seen the film. The movie, available on Amazon Prime Video, has received a scorching 0% rating on Rotten Tomatoes, with critics panning its screenlife format, where the entire story unfolds on computer screens and digital interfaces. Ice Cube stars as Will Radford, a Homeland Security cyber-security analyst tracking national threats through mass surveillance. The film follows Radford’s investigation into an alien invasion, primarily through his computer screen. Critics have blasted the movie for its poor production, weak screenplay, lack of tension and suspense, and subpar visual effects ¹ ². Some notable criticisms include: Poor Storytelling: The film’s narrative is delivered through clunky exposition, on-screen text, and news clips, making it feel like a first draft never fleshed out. Lack of Cinematic Energy: The screenlife format fails to deliver genuine suspense or creativity, instead feeling like a feature-length Zoom call with cheap effects. Underwhelming Visuals: The aliens are depicted as indistinct, rubbery CGI blobs, and the destruction scenes are presented through jerky livestreams and low-res drone footage. 50 Cent’s Instagram post pokes fun at the film’s dismal ratings: “0% how you get a 0 percent rating. Nah somebody mad at cube. Now I’m scared to watch it LOL.” Despite the backlash, War of the Worlds has become a streaming hit, topping the charts on Prime Video in 11 countries ¹ ³. Interestingly, Ice Cube has secured a deal with Warner Bros. for a new Friday sequel, titled Last Friday, which he’s set to write and star in ³.

Sean “Diddy” Combs’ legal team has reached out to President Joe Biden’s administration, not Donald Trump, to explore the possibility of a presidential pardon ahead of his sentencing in October. Diddy was found not guilty of sex trafficking and racketeering charges but was convicted of prostitution-related offenses, carrying a maximum sentence of ten years in prison for each count of engaging in transportation for prostitution ¹. Nicole Westmoreland, one of Diddy’s defense attorneys, confirmed to CNN that they have initiated conversations regarding a potential pardon. However, it’s unclear if President Biden would consider granting one. Diddy’s bail appeals were denied by the judge, citing his history of domestic violence and failure to prove exceptional circumstances for release. He’ll remain in jail until sentencing. Interestingly, an ex-girlfriend, Virginia Huynh, who was set to testify as “Victim-3” during the trial, penned a letter to the judge advocating for Diddy’s release. Huynh described their relationship as imperfect but highlighted Diddy’s efforts to acknowledge past mistakes and become a better person. She wrote, “Our relationship… was not always perfect, we experienced ups and downs, and mistakes were made but he was willing to acknowledge his mistakes and make better decisions in the future.” Huynh also noted that by the end of their relationship, Diddy had shown significant personal growth, embodying “an energy of love, patience and gentleness that was markedly different from his past behavior”. Despite this, the judge remained unconvinced, and Diddy will stay in jail until his sentencing ¹. If you’d like more information on Diddy’s case or potential pardon process, feel free to ask.