Hip-hop still lives for moments. Damn the trends. Screw the metrics. Moments — the kind you feel in your chest. In 2025, one of the most undeniable moments came from Chris Patrick, whose Kai Cenat freestyle didn’t just go viral — it cut through.
It reminded rap fans why bars still matter, why intent still matters, why hunger is still the most powerful currency in rap. What followed wasn’t just a spike — it was a pivot: a Def Jam deal, a JID tour, and Pray 4 Me, a raw, real-time EP that documents faith, fear, grief, patience, and purpose. This is Chris Patrick, in his own words, at the moment everything changed.
Obviously, we have to start with the freestyle, one of the biggest hip-hop moments of the past year. Are you tired of talking about it yet?
Nah. I’m not tired of it at all. It’s part of the story now. It’s part of the narrative around me. I don’t have a problem talking about it because it really represents a turning point — not just for my career, but for how people see me.
Looking back now, with a little distance, how did that moment truly change your life?
Man, before that freestyle, I was working a part-time job. I was really in regular-life mode. Gabe P hit me like 16 days before and was like, “Pull up.” I didn’t think anything crazy of it. I’d already done On The Radar and smoked that, so I was like, “This is going to be fire,” but I didn’t think it was going to change anything.
Tuesday came, it went how I thought it would. Wednesday is when things got wild. I literally called out of work and said, “I need to get my mind right.” I was seeing stuff come in, but I still hadn’t processed it.
Even the next day, it still hadn’t fully hit you?
Not at all. I woke up at like 6 in the morning — no idea why — and checked my DMs. I saw a message from Russell Wilson. I just froze. I was like, “Oh shit… it’s really going crazy.” From there, everything started pouring in. Rappers hitting me up. Conductor Williams sending beat packs. Then the JID tour came from that. My whole career did a 180, no exaggeration.
On “Ausar’s Prayer,” you rap, “If I choke, I probably just packed up my dream.” Why did the stakes feel that high for you?
Because they were. At that time, I was supposed to drop a project earlier in the year, but it got pushed back. Clearances, delays, all that. I felt like I was losing momentum. I didn’t want to go two years without dropping again. That shit messes with your head.
I felt defeated. I really felt like I didn’t have motion. So going into that freestyle, I told myself, “If this is my last chance to show people I can do this, then this is it.” I didn’t think anything was coming after.
Artists don’t talk about that enough — that moment where you’re really questioning everything.
Facts. I was genuinely thinking, “Maybe it’s not my time.” I had already started making peace with the idea that this might not go how I dreamed it would.
When did you realize Kai Cenat was actually locked in and connected with what you were doing?
Honestly? Not until I got home. I had anxiety the whole time. I was locked in on rapping. Even after, we were dapping up, taking pictures — it still didn’t register. But when I got back to the crib and watched it again with my homies, I saw it. His demeanor changed with every beat. The chat went crazy. When that last beat hit, I realized, “Oh, he was really locked in.” Then, days later, he kept talking about me. He wore the jersey I gave him. That’s when it really hit.
New Jersey Devils jersey — because you really rep Jersey.
Always. I stand on that shit. There’s too much talent in Jersey that doesn’t get the light. That moment wasn’t just for me — it was for the state. It felt like a chance to put Jersey on in a way we haven’t seen in a long time.
Let’s talk more about Pray 4 Me. It starts with a prayer and ends with a prayer. Why was that the vision?
My grandma used to pray for me every single day when I was in college. She sent me scriptures all the time. After the freestyle, my DMs were flooded with people saying, “I’m praying for you.” That energy felt exactly like what my grandma used to give me.
The first prayer is from my homie Ausar. He prayed for me before leaving my crib when I was really struggling — deciding whether to take a part-time job, questioning everything. The last prayer is from my dawg Huncho, who was locked up at the time and calling me every day on the JID tour, telling me to keep going. The project is about my community holding me up.
You’ve always been vulnerable in your music — struggling to pay rent, missing funerals. Why has transparency always mattered to you?
I grew up on Cole, Kendrick, Drake — artists who were honest. Writing is therapy for me. I don’t do it for relatability points. I do it because it’s how I survive. When people connect to it, that’s just the byproduct.
This project came together fast?
Immediately. We started it the day after the freestyle. I’m capturing real time — everything from that moment through half the JID tour. I wanted it to be authentic. No polish, just the truth.
You mention meeting J. Cole on the same day your friend Huncho got locked up.
Yeah. 2023. I drove from Nashville to Atlanta with $12 in my bank account just to be in the studio. I met Cole that day, and that same day, Huncho got locked up. Funny enough, I just found out right before this interview that he beat the case. He’s coming home soon. That shit feels full circle.
You’re intentional about who you work with — Marco Plus, Swavay, Ben Reilly, Reuben Vincent. Do you feel like you’re part of a new class of MCs?
For sure. We’ve been broke together, stressed together, building together. We talk every day. It’s a brotherhood. Seeing everyone rise together is special.
You’re now at Def Jam. Why does that legacy still matter to you?
Def Jam is culture. They’re uplifting Black artists. I grew up on that legacy. My uncle put me onto all those artists. I just met Nas last night. Being part of that lineage means everything.
“Screaming At The Sky” is one of the most powerful records on the project. Talk about honoring your grandmother.
That song was one take. I don’t like revisiting records like that — I want them to stay pure. My grandma was one of my biggest supporters. I still keep her obituary in my car. She introduced me to the loctician who locked my hair. Everything I am is connected to her belief in me.
What did touring with JID teach you?
He’s a master — especially live. Breath control, pacing, crowd engagement. I took notes every night. Same with Russ. Young Nudy, too — no backtrack. I’m always learning.
“Frankenstein” with Marco Plus is just bars. How did that come together?
Conductor sent the beat pack. I told Marco, “No hook, just rap.” That was for hip-hop. Sharing that moment with my brother meant everything.
You say on that song, “You haven’t felt a moment this impactful since Kendrick emerged.”
I stand on that. I saw legends, athletes, everyone showing love. Real rap cut through again. That Kai moment is a turning point in hip-hop.
How do you define success now?
Impact. On the JID tour, we sold out merch. People waited just to talk to me. They told me my music gave them a safe space. No number can quantify that. The numbers will catch up. The impact is already here.
