Mista Cain, A King Uncrowned

The first episode of "The Verdict" starts with an interview with Kevin Gates. Peter Rosenberg asks him about who the world should be looking out for in the Louisiana rap scene:

"Yeah they got a kid I really fuck with, you heard me? My little brother, his name Mista."

Gates isn't the only one who feels this way. Over the years Mista Cain has been the definition of "your favorite rapper's favorite rapper." He's worked with and received high praise from Baton Rouge legends like Boosie and Lil Phat (RIP), and worked with others from outside of Louisiana like Starlito, Trouble, and Young Dolph. But Mista Cain is in a strange place, one we've seen a number of rappers in before: he's right on the cusp but he can't get off the ground. That, however, will change sooner than later if Mista Cain has anything to say about it. I got the chance to meet him a few months ago in New Orleans. He and his manager J Dirty, along with other members of his team, picked me up in their Sprinter and took me to some of his favorite spots in town. We talked about some of these roadblocks he's encountered, most noticeably the three years he did spent in prison while on trial for murder and attempted murder as detailed in Baton Rouge-based newspaper The Advocate despite not being convicted of the crimes he was accused of. Incarceration broke his stride and kept him out of business for three years, but he's back now, sharper and more focused on obtaining the change he's been fighting for for so long. This new chapter of his life begins with his mixtape 'Lebron Cain' which came out on Halloween following 'The Verdict' and 'CM3' which were both released earlier this year.

Hailing from Baton Rouge, Cain, whose birth name is Samuel Nicholas, embodies the best qualities of rappers from the city, writing songs full of self reflection and first-hand observations of how turbulent life can be at times. "I just pour it out." When he talks about regrets about the past, it's driven by his hope for the future. When he's celebrating and having fun, there's that barely noticeable, but still present, undertone of sadness. Don't confuse his pensiveness for emotion, though. "I could sit here all night and tell you about the people that mean something to me, but ain't gonna do nothing but get people emotional. I ain't no emotional-ass nigga. I'm a straightforward-ass nigga. You know what I'm saying? If I say something I mean something. If I tell you I love you then I love you. And I'm a die behind it."

When I asked J Dirty if Cain's star power was evident from the start, he admits that he took some convincing. "I'm not even gonna lie and say that [I saw the talent from the beginning]. But he's relentless. I remember seeing him then and he'll go back and point himself out in the video, and I remember meeting him around certain people. He was like a young boy around my other artists, so he was like a return figure. When I started managing Young Ready (RIP) I remembered him from back in the day and he was around then. That's when I knew he had it, when I met him again in like 2010."

The Baton Rouge Police Department's relationship with the city's community—particularly its black residents—is predictably turbulent. The city has been a fixture of national news stories for the past year and change because of high profile killings by cops, as well as high profile killings of cops. The relationship between rappers specifically and the city's police force is just as, if not more tense, as illustrated by Cain's case, as well as those with other local rappers like Boosie and NBA Youngboy.

Cain was charged with second degree murder that prosecutors said was premeditated. According to the Advocate:

It feels like the epitome of a "he said, she said" situation. Mista Cain agrees with his attorney's take, that police were trying to pin the charges on him because rappers, in their view, are negative influences in the city. Though both of his co-defendants were convicted, Mista Cain was found not guilty and was acquitted of the charges in 2015. Prison didn't shake him though. "I wasn't in there long, but I was in there long enough to analyze all the other people around me. And all them niggas was bitches." Three years on the sidelines is enough to make anyone give up, if not entirely derail their dreams.

Cain isn't just "anyone" though. With the Cain Muzik Mafia carrying on his movement while he was inside, he came out primed for a monumental showing and he's seized the opportunities placed in front of him. In "The Verdict" you can see through his body language, if not the big-ass grin he has on the entire time, how happy he is to get out of jail. He'd been in so long that he hadn't even see the new blue $100 dollar bills that the Treasury Department started distributing in 2013 year.

When we met up, we spent the afternoon going to his favorite boutiques in the city and stopped over by a studio where we heard new music from New Orleans-native Calliope Bub. One thing that stuck out is the respect he commands, the excitement that his presence creates, the air of a king that he walks around with. More than one person we passed pulled me to the side to ask "Yo, is that Mista?" If you didn't know anything about him you'd assume he's the biggest rapper in the world just by how he is. That demeanor is what's going to put him in the place he's always known he should be.

There's one moment that stuck out the most through this afternoon though. While we're driving back towards the hotel district, he started rapping along to his own songs. It's not something that you haven't seen rappers of all statures do, but there's something about the way he was doing it. It's clear that what he's saying is something he really believes in, the moments are important or pivotal. This isn't music, this is his life. And that's the crux of why he's so great.

So where does Mista Cain go from here? Right now he's focusing on learning more patience, in and out of his career. He knows waiting is part of the game. He's most anxious about being able to do well for his family and being in a position to help his kids live a better life. But most of all, he just wants to tell his story to whoever has the time to listen. "I still rap about what I been through and if they can't accept it, I'll just listen to it myself. I still rap about reality."

Listen to 'Lebron Cain' here: