The Turn Up and the Come Up with Orlando Rapper Woop

Photo courtesy of Woop

Things are different where 23-year-old Woop is from. The West Orlando he knows is what he describes as, “what the people in Disney World don’t want you to see.” It makes sense that the local theme park industry wouldn’t focus on Woop’s side of the city, though; a glimpse at the headlines don’t show the 700 Block, where Woop is from, in a great light.

Woop’s music serves to illuminate his impoverished neighborhood’s ills by slipping in those pains within colorful melodies. He doesn’t present himself as the hood’s Faulkner, though. The focus is instead a pragmatic take on surviving through the struggle. For example, what’s notable about “Drugs,” which Noisey is premiering the video for below, is its matter-of-factness. The ad-libs, while playful, are somewhat indignant. “Fuck what you thinking?” he asks at one point, snarling at some unsaid question. The answer is easy: “Lean all up on my brain / Smoke to ease the pain.” We’re living for the moment.

Born Chuck Ford, Woop was a college basketball player at Sante Fe College in Gainesville, Florida, before legal trouble derailed his career. Instead of resigning himself to a life in a part of Orlando forgotten in favor of overpriced park rides, Woop has made himself into a known force with his mix of carnival-like beats and straightforwardness (he has a song called “Pussy Nigga,” which also happens to be his breakout hit). He’s almost three years and two mixtapes (2013’s Woop Nation and 2014’s Woop Lingo) in the game, plus he’s already worked with the likes of Kevin Gates, Plies, Migos, Bobby Shmurda, PeeWee Longway.

He’s planning on releasing another mixtape this year, although what drama he’ll hone in on remains nebulous. Woop, who speaks in a low-toned drawl that’s a ways away from his wheezing performing voice, consistently suffixes his terse sentences with “you already know” and refers to the 700 Block’s ongoings as turning up. To be fair, they’re meant partially as terms of endearment, but they’re unclear ones. What Woop is clear about is how his music is partially a Hosannah because he’s not even supposed to be here.

Screengrab via YouTube

Noisey: Would “Woop” also describe your music?
Woop: I don’t know, man. It’s Dirty Face music. That’s what I’d describe it as.

How would you describe Dirty Face music?
It’s West Orlando. It’s about what’s really going on. I’m the type of person to tell you what’s really going on.

I read that’s one of the goals of your music. What do you think people think of Orlando?
Some people think it’s turned up, some people think Disney World. That’s a whole ‘nother part. It opens your eyes up to what the people in Disney World don’t want you to see.

You played college basketball?
Yeah, I had went for one year. I went to a school called Santa Fe. It’s in Gainesville. As far as that first year, it was cool. I was killing them out there. You already know. But I got into some trouble and some shit, so that kind of messed it up… I had an attempted murder charge—a whole case.

I’d imagine it must’ve been crazy playing college basketball one minute and getting that charge the next.
Yeah, it was real crazy. It wasn’t right.

What was the point where you stopped messing around and decided to be serious when it comes to rap?
The way I see it, it was serious about me. When I started doing shows and meeting people, that’s [when I thought] I could do something with this. I could take this somewhere.

How would you describe the 700 Block to people who are not from Florida?
It’s a small hood just like any other small hood. We’re turnt up out there.

Just so we’re on the same page, what do you mean when you say “turnt up”?
Anything could be turnt up. You could be getting money off your phone and your phone turnt up. It’s whatever situation you’re in. When we say it’s turned up, it means that it ain’t bad — it’s good or it’s going on.

Then in what ways were you turning up?
We were popular and doing our things in the streets. Doing whatever we could to make it, bruh.

Hustling?
Everybody was hustling. Don’t nobody give away nothin’.

Who was the first person you collaborated with? Did they hit you up?
The first person who I collaborated with was Plies. It was out of nowhere, too; it just shocked me because I don’t even know how they got my number. One day we’re chilling in the spot and a call comes through. It’s Plies on the phone telling me what he should do to song and shit. It was cool.

You think the fact that you two are from Florida helped that connection?
That was the main reason he connected really, because he don’t just be doing that. For him to do that, that was really what’s up.

How important is it to improve as a rapper while still telling what’s going on in the streets?
It’s important, but really, you don’t have to try hard when you just tell it how it is. It’s like your first thought. They’re going to be able to relate it somewhere or some sort. It may not be what they’re doing now, but they probably been through it or know somebody. It just touches people somewhere. That’s more important to me.

I read that you said, “This keeps me outta trouble. I want to own a label to, get my people out of the streets. What inspired you to work toward that goal?
You’re losing good people you see every day. It gets to the point where you get tired… If I take this serious, I may not get to help everybody, but if I help at least two or three people, that shit comforts me.

What’s the biggest loss you suffered?
I don’t want to put them up against each other like that. My step-daddy who raised me [died of a gunshot wound to the head]. I done lost [a lot].
Woop’s Manager: You could even mention his DJ.]

What happened?
Woop: He [Disco Jr] got stabbed in the club on some thug type beef with another DJ. Someone ran up on him and stabbed him in the stomach and shit. He was a big part of my movement. We had the same plans… He stood for what I stood for. As soon as we get to working and pushing the campaign, they took him.

It must’ve been rough, because you were on your way up and had something like this happen.
Yeah. That shit crazy.

I guess, in a way, it’s more motivation to keep going and move out.
Everything is motivation. I been through a lot. All that is motivation. Every day I walk the street is motivation.

Brian Josephs writes, frolics, and cavorts in East Flatbush, New York. Follow him on Twitter.