Portland Rapper Wynne Is Turning Heads One Verse at a Time: ‘I’ve Always Had My Confidence’

Wynne’s 2022 track “Glass Slipper Flows” hinted at the Portland native eventually becoming a force on the mic: “Please don’t address me ’til you’ve done your research/ Steppin’ to my name, just take the Nikes off your feet first,” she rapped, just one example of her lyrical gymnastics during the five-minute sprint. Though styled as a blonde bombshell, Wynne’s wordplay is what’s helping her turn heads and deliver her whole story.

Growing up, Wynne listened to Lupe Fiasco, Eminem and 50 Cent, molding her love for hip-hop; at 12, she developed a passion for poetry, which morphed into freestyling and now full-fledged songwriting, as displayed on her newest EP, Some Like It Hot. The six-track effort is a spicy showcase for sports metaphors, witty lyricism and catchy hooks, with lead single “Jaw Morant” cleverly playing off the Memphis Grizzlies star while flexing her prowess in the bedroom.

“I’m a motherf—ing dog/ Mirror on the wall, who’s the baddest of ’em all?/ He call me Morant, no one’s fucking with my jaw/ I’m his lil’ cutie, but he got me saying, ‘Aww,'” she raps on the hook. With co-signs from heavy-bar spitters JID, Earthgang and Mick Jenkins, Wynne is ready to live up to her moniker.

“In 2022, when we established Genius Distro, she was the first artist that I wanted to partner with,” says Rob Markman, vp of music at MediaLab, which owns Genius & WorldStarHipHop. “I didn’t wanna drop the ball with her music. I wanted to make sure that we could elevate Wynne.” 

Markman adds, “I believe she will be one of hip-hop’s biggest stars, and to be part of that journey is an honor.” 

Billboard spoke with Wynne, July’s R&B / Hip-Hop Rookie of the Month, about her early beginnings in Portland, white privilege in hip-hop and her love for sports bars. 

I remember you telling me about your early fascination with artists like Lupe Fiasco, Eminem, Kanye and 50. What made you embrace those caliber of MCs coming up?

I have an older brother, so we shared an iTunes account and I had all the music that he had. I was nine or 10 years old when Lupe dropped [2007’s] The Cool and we were playing PlayStation 2 Midnight Club 3: Dub Edition listening to The Cool like, “This is the craziest s–t I ever heard.”

I’ve always been a – I don’t know if it’s left- or right-brained – I’m a word person. I’m a reader, a writer, and even when I was little, I was writing short stories. For me, it’s the fascination with the words and the way they put things together or depict imagery. Using wordplay or internal rhyme schemes made me feel powerful, it made me feel confident, and like I could do anything. That’s why I fell in love with it.

I’m a huge fan of the sports metaphors. With you being a wordsmith, where did your love for sports bars come from?

I’ve always been a sports lover. I grew up in a sport-oriented family for sure. I been playing basketball my whole life, like ever since I can remember. I grew up watching and playing basketball and it became such a natural thing for me with how much basketball. I’ll be in the studio and I’m watching basketball. I leave to go home and I watch the games. When you’re in the mindset of writing and you see people’s names pop up, I guess that’s how my brain works. I’m always putting flips on words in my head, and if I think it’s dope enough I’ll put it in the Notes app and I’ll save it for when the time feels right. Once I had that “Jaw Morant” beat, I was like, “This is the time.”

You grew up in Portland, so I don’t need to go through the disadvantages of growing up in a small market, but I’m curious to know what were the pros coming up from there. 

I was raised in a suburb called Lake Oswego, and it’s like the most bubble of a community that you can imagine. It’s very white. It’s very separated. I think Portland is kind of in general a unique place to live. I think that’s part of why hip-hop really spoke to me. It gave me a window into the outside world that I knew that I didn’t understand when I was 11. It was my way of learning about life. I feel like hip-hop raised me like as much as my family did. I learned to see the world to see my position in the world as a white person really on through listening to those stories. 

It’s interesting because we didn’t have a lot of artists come out of Portland. Shout-out to Vursatyl off Lifesavas, shout-out to Aminé, shout-out to Cool Nutz. When you think of major cities in hip-hop, it’s not up there. Portland’s always been a punk or alternative rock scene.

When I came into the Portland scene in 2016 I started rapping. It’s been really exciting ever since. Even before I was part of the scene, there’s been dope cats coming out, but there’s been a struggle between the relationship between hip-hop and the city of Portland, because of that whiteness. There’s people who can speak on it much better than I can as a white person in the scene, but we were having huge issues with police shutting down shows, just because they were listed as rap shows. You can’t play shows that are under 21 in the city.

There’s been a huge issue with that. We’ve had people and OGs in the scene meet up with the city of Portland – shout-out to DJ O.G. One, who is the Blazers’ DJ, and DJ Cliff – met with the city to create Portland hip-hop week, to create a bond there to support the artists. Because there’s a lot of dope artists coming out of the city that have not been supported by the city itself. I’m glad we’re taking steps to make that happen.

What I appreciate about you is that you are very self-aware and you’re aware of the privileges that come with being white. When did you develop that kind of awareness as an MC?

Really early on, because my community was super white, and it’s no secret that white kids use the N-word and s–t. I was listening to hip-hop. I was listening to 50, Geto Boys, T.I. and I was listening to Eminem — and Eminem is well-known for discussing those issues in his music. When I was in middle school, it was a clear, “OK, I’m living in this community where I don’t feel like I’m getting the full picture. This is giving me a window to the outside world, where I need to be able to adjust and adapt.”

Honestly, I was scared to tell people I was rapping because of that. I knew it would be hard for people to take me seriously – still to this day. Which is understandable – I totally get it. I think once I had that feeling or sense I’m “other” in this artform, that led me to pick up books. I was picking up VIBE History of Hip-Hop. Gospel of Hip Hop, KRS-One. I was starting to read. There hasn’t been a super-respected example of a white woman in hip-hop, but there have been white people in hip-hop and women in hip-hop. So when I was in high school, I started to study those paths of different people, to pick and choose what have these people done that people respected and f–ked with, and what have people done that has been like sketch and pretty f–ked up.

Part of being a student in the game is being able to notice your position and be able to objectively look at yourself. I’m not coming into this thinking, “It’s all about me. This is exciting.” I really do feel like a guest in this culture, so when someone has a problem with me rapping because [of that], I don’t take offense to that. If I came across a video of myself and I didn’t know how long I’ve been doing this and how much time I put into it, I don’t know if I would f–k with myself either.

I think, ultimately, within hip-hop — I’ve found in my experience that people just can tell whether or not you’re genuine. If in your lyrics you’re really rapping, if it’s clear in the way you pen your s–t that you respect the craft, and the way you carry yourself, people will see that and they’ll f–k with you. It’s about being genuine and being yourself, and trying to shut the f–k up when you need and speak up when you need to speak up. 

Knowing the EP is out, from a feedback standpoint, obviously we know you have bars, but I was more impressed by the song-making skills and the hooks that you were able to cook up. What’s been the reception from that standpoint?

It’s been crazy. It’s been really dope. Coming up as a backpack rapper and cypher kid, that’s always been something I’ve struggled with — making the hooks. It’s been dope to see people really rocking with it, and feel like I’ve made music that people can live with in their car, hanging out with friends and turning up. It’s real lifestyle music, which I really f–k with. It’s not all in your head. There’s that too, but you can live with it socially with other people. So it’s been fun seeing people rock with it and posting videos of them bumping it in their car and showing friends. It’s been fire. 

Have you hit that point where you half of your core only wants the bars versus the singles? What has that battle been like for you internally?

That has definitely been a struggle. I have different sides of my fan base, as a lot of people do. But I think it’s polarizing when you come up barring the f–k up. When you start to make more mainstream records, that can be polarizing for your early fans. I have to understand that not everybody is gonna love everything I do. Not everybody’s gonna like everything I do. Some of my fans are gonna love these type of records, and some are gonna love these type of records, and the truth is neither one of these sides of me is ever gonna go away. I’ve learned to accept that certain people are gonna rock with certain things more than others, and it’s a part of who I am, and all I can do with my artistry is put out the s–t I love and the s–t I believe in. 

We joked about you being “Jill Harlow,” because of the similarities you have with Jack. From a trajectory standpoint, knowing he’s able to weave in and out from pop to hip-hop, is that something you’re aiming for or is there something higher you envision for yourself?

I would love to be able to weave in and out. I think it’s definitely harder as a woman to do, but I’m excited for the challenge. I think I’m super capable of it. I think that I’m built for it. I’m excited to learn as I go, and be able to dip my toe into whatever beats are thrown at me. I really think I could do it all. 

For me, the standout record on the EP is “Wife.” Do you think you’ll be able to find that balance between having a great relationship and a thriving career? If so, what would that look like?

That’s a tough one. I can’t lie – I’ve struggled because of what I do. I think there’s no secret that in any relationship, there are issues of jealousy and power dynamics. That’s something I struggle with, as a woman who is rapping her ass off and gets a lot of male attention on social media. That’s not a super-fun convo for guys to deal with. I’m also a really realistic person, and really honest and loyal, and I think it just depends on the person.

I think I’ll get there, but it will take a little bit of time. I can’t say that’s something I’m focused on right now. I’m excited for where I’m at and the growth. I’m definitely someone when I start really f–king with someone, I get super-distracted. I’m careful with myself to not dip too hard into that bag while I’m blowing up.

What kind of conversation would you have with your 12-year-old self, knowing where you are now?

I would just be like, “You’re right.” That was a big [thing]. I felt this internal dissonance — like, I know I’m dope and I got this raw talent in me that’s gonna take years to hone, but I know it’s there. There was a lot of people I was scared to tell I was rapping, because I knew people wouldn’t take me seriously. I would just be like, “Trust yourself. You’re dope. You’re right. If you stick to this it will work. Have faith in that and keep your f–king head down and [be] rapping your ass off.”

I probably wouldn’t have done anything differently. I probably would’ve been more social in high school. I was the girl with the Beats headphones and the Air Force 1s walking the hallway. It was like, “Oh, that’s the rapper.” I would be like, “Just be confident in that.” Because that ate me up as a kid. I would be like, “Stand on it. You’re dope.” They’re all gonna come back in a couple years and wish they were you. 

Carl Lamarre

Billboard