

“I think we’re just at the beginning, and he’s going to be here for a long time.”ĭaBaby’s potential longevity owes a lot not only to his technique on the mic but to his knack for self-marketing. I think he’s going to be a movie star,” says Interscope Records executive vp Joie Manda. And what made him a solo star made him an in-demand feature, too: Just ask Megan Thee Stallion, Gucci Mane and Chance the Rapper, all of whom have recently benefited from the charm and confidence DaBaby lends to a verse (to the tune of a six-figure price tag per feature, according to his team). A gifted lyricist with side-splitting wit, speedy run-on-sentence delivery and bruising punchlines, DaBaby immediately stood out in the current trap-heavy rap landscape, where catchy ad-libs reign supreme. In April, following the release of his debut album, Baby on Baby, his song “ Suge” debuted at No. 87 on the Billboard Hot 100, ascending to a No. 7 peak by July.

After signing with Interscope Records in late January, the artist born Jonathan Kirk quickly emerged as one of the most inventive new voices in hip-hop. If DaBaby seems amped up, it’s for good reason. When the director calls “action,” DaBaby seamlessly shifts from jocular daredevil to fiery MC, bobbing and weaving to the beat of his punchy club-banger “ BOP.” His smile is magnetic, and he knows it, flashing his teeth at each camera that comes his way before ripping into the opening verse.ĭaBaby photographed on Sept. It’s time for his last shot of the day, and he’s ready to focus. He holds everyone in suspense for a few extra seconds, then dismounts and returns to the performance area. Relishing the view - and, apparently, the anxiety emanating from the rapt viewers gazing up at him - DaBaby stretches his wiry 5-foot-8-inch frame along the ledge with his legs swinging below. It’s a balmy October afternoon outside, but there’s a palpable buzz inside New York’s Gotham Hall, where the 27-year-old rapper - whose Kirk just debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard 200 - is perched perilously on the ledge of the mezzanine, 30 feet above the ground.ĭaBaby is entering the second hour of filming a three-song performance for Showtime’s late-night talk show Desus & Mero, and the production crew’s cries of “Don’t do it, Baby!” echo through the cavernous space. “I think I might jump,” says DaBaby, a mischievous smile creeping across his face.
