The Grind Never Stops for HDBeenDope
“That hunger comes from knowing music is part of my life’s work.”
Photography by Percy Miller
Hailing from East Flatbush, Brooklyn, this rapper brings a raw, hungry energy that New York City is known for. HDBeenDope has an outward tenacity that goes hand in hand with razor-sharp lyrics and bars fierce enough to put a battery in your back. On recent tracks like “Issa Rae,” he alludes to the challenges and obstacles of making it in the rap game—the highs, the struggles, and everything in between.
Then there’s “VINNY,” a record honoring the passing of a friend, reflecting on the state of the world, and tracing the course of his own life, all while vowing to “stay alive through the music,” as he declares at the track’s close. Both songs were written and produced by HD in a single 24-hour session at the end of 2024, proving that his ambition isn’t just in the music—it fuels everything he does.
HD sat down with 1202 MAGAZINE to discuss his creative process, staying grounded as an artist in 2025, and his lasting imprint on NYC’s rap landscape.
What does it mean to be a NYC rapper and artist in 2025? Could you talk about the landscape?
The world is shifting, especially in entertainment. It’s always been one of those cool jobs to have, but now more than ever, art feels like a necessity. It’s no longer just about doing something cool. It’s required. That’s the reality of the world right now, and I’m moving with that shift. But internally, it still feels like a very cool place to be. The reason I started making music in the first place was to speak to something bigger than myself, and now, more than ever, we need that in the music space. We need things that stick, not just moments that pass. That’s what excites me most about 2025: art that lasts.
Your latest tracks, ‘Issa Rae’ and ‘Prophet,’ go crazy. What was your mindset behind them?
Both of these tracks capture exactly where I was. That opening line—’ Knew what it was before this shit got to you’—that’s a feeling. When I create, I already know this is going to make people feel something because I know how it made me feel. To be a true artist, you have to believe in the work before anyone else does.
When people finally hear it and say, ‘Yo, this is crazy,’ I’ve already had that moment in the studio. Sometimes, I sit there, overwhelmed, like—thank you. I don’t even know how this got to me but thank you. So when people react, it’s like, yeah, you’re supposed to feel that.
With ‘Issa Rae’—I loved Rap Sh!t. I’m sad it got canceled. Issa Rae is incredible. That show touched on a lot of the same things we talked about: what it looks like to be an artist in 2025 and how the game is shifting. There’s a lot of BS you have to go through to get your music out. ‘Issa Rae’ speaks to how the industry operates. And again, that goes back to what we were saying: art needs to be more grounded now and more intentional.
There’s a lot of ambition and conviction in your music—there’s a real hunger present. I saw it in your AT THE LAB end-of-year session. As artists, some of us can sit and create for an hour or so, but you persist for a straight 24. What do you feel during that process, and what motivates you to push through?
That hunger comes from knowing music is part of my life’s work. We all feel it—that tension between being present and knowing there’s always something more to strive for. I try to capture that in my music. Every year, I do a 24-hour session at the end of the year, and that’s where ‘Issa Rae’ and ‘VINNY’ came from. The perseverance is in the goal itself. I know how good it’s going to feel when it’s done. The sleep I’m about to get and the moment I hit upload—that’s what keeps me going.
That night, I was in the studio at 3 a.m. thinking, ‘Yo… this might’ve been a little ambitious.’ Two records at once—mixing, producing, doing the cover art, everything from the ground up. But I just had this feeling that it’ll be okay. I’m gonna be good. And when I finally uploaded those songs, I was cooked, but it felt so good. That feeling alone is worth the grind.
Photography by Percy Miller
What bars have you written that really stick with you?
One that stays with me: ‘If I’m on God’s time, why would I hurry? I know this shit is mine, why would I worry?’ That’s just my journey in a bar. Everything happens in divine timing. Artists battle with time a lot and want things to happen faster. But when I have those moments in the studio where something clicks, I know it hit me exactly when it was supposed to. There was no way to rush that process. So, I respect the timing and the journey.
What’s something people misunderstand about the grind of being an artist in this industry?
The lines in the industry have blurred so much. It used to be about getting on TV. But now, the TV is on your phone. Everyone has access. But no matter what level you’re at, the grind doesn’t stop. I’ve sat with people who have millions, and they still have that go-getter mindset. I’d be looking at them like, ‘Damn, I thought once you got here, you could chill.’ But if you’re really built for this, if you’re in it for the work, not just a couple of dollars, that hunger stays. You have to love the grind itself. As long as you stay consistent, you’ll get where you’re supposed to go.
Growing up in Brooklyn, what key moments shaped your artistry?
Funny enough, leaving Brooklyn shaped me the most. I went to a ballet school in Manhattan, and that changed my whole perspective. Growing up in the neighborhood, my world felt small. But once I started traveling outside of Brooklyn at age eight or nine, my whole world opened up. That’s what later pushed me to go to Europe on my own; it all started there.
Brooklyn is always in me. I grew up in a Caribbean neighborhood; my family is Grenadian. East Flatbush is a mix of Haitian, Jamaican, and Trinidadian cultures. Music was always blasting on the block: hip-hop, Beres Hammond, and everything else. I’d also come home from school and put my speakers in the window. I wanted to make something people felt proud to play loud, and when I finally started hearing my own music bumping from the block, that was a full-circle moment.
NYC rap is constantly evolving. Where do you see yourself in that conversation? What role do you play in the culture today?
New York’s sound changes constantly. For me, it’s about what I came into this for. I didn’t start making music to chase a trend. That doesn’t mean I don’t respect what’s happening now. I had a song, ‘Bands Too,’ that ended up on UFC and had drill influences. But my music is about vision; where do I want this to be played? Where do I want to take it? That perspective naturally makes me sound different.
Nobody’s gonna hear my music and question where I’m from—New York is in it. But I also pull from everywhere I’ve been. Spending time in Europe expanded my ear, but Brooklyn is always home. So, I make sure that it stays prominent.
Photography by Percy Miller
How has being signed to Roc Nation changed your approach to your career?
When I first got to Roc, I felt pressured to make a certain record. That wasn’t something anyone put on me; it was more of a mental thing. ‘Okay, this is what it means to be at ROC Nation, so this is what I’m supposed to do.’ That was a little battle I had early on.
But now, I understand that the tools I had in front of me, the ones that got me here, are the same ones I need to stick to. That realization has led me to make some really inspiring music that I’m proud of.
It hasn’t changed much in terms of how I make music now. But when I first got to Roc, it really felt like, ‘This is the big leagues—what do people do in the big leagues?’ And the reality is, whatever you do, that’s what people do in the big leagues.
With over 50 years of hip-hop and its legacy rooted in storytelling, what stories do you feel you haven’t told yet but want to share through your music?
There’s a story I’ve been pondering for an album further down the line. It’s about living in the neighborhood I come from, an impoverished area where people are always trying to level up and make it out. From that perspective, I see a lot from a bird’s-eye view.
One idea I want to explore is bringing children into the world and the mindset behind that. When we’re young, we look at our parents or the people guiding us and think, they’ve got it all figured out, right? Because they’re here to lead us. But in reality, in my hood, everybody is just trying to figure it out, no matter what stage of life they’re in. Some people have to take on the role of guiding someone else while they’re still figuring things out for themselves.
I don’t think the story of how people get in that position is always told. The circumstances that led them there are the stories I’m interested in speaking to in the future.
Who’s a dream collab for you, NYC or beyond?
Jack Johnson. That Between Dreams album is so fly that it’d be super ill. Like…you gotta listen to his song ‘Banana Pancakes!’
Photography by Percy Miller
What do you want people to take away when they hear your music?
Definitely that hunger. My music is rooted in the entrepreneurial generation we’re in. Like I said before, everyone now has a TV on their phone, meaning people create from wherever they are. There’s no waiting for permission.
My uncle once told me he wanted to be a pilot when he was younger, but his parents didn’t really see that for him—like, a Black pilot? What are you talking about? That kind of doubt pushed him in a different direction. But now, with so much access through our phones, almost anything feels possible.
Because of that, so many people in my generation are trying different things, building from where they are. That’s why I call us the entrepreneurial generation. The hunger and ambition I speak to in my music that’s what it takes to get where you need to be. And I want people to feel that.
What’s next for HD? Are there any projects or moves you can tease?
You ain’t even know you hit a pun! I dropped a song on February 21 called ‘Move’ produced by Motif Alumni and Pluss from EarDrummers. We’ve been working on some incredible music, and this is just the beginning. People are gonna hear what we’ve been cooking up with this batch of records. And after that? More EPs, more storytelling, and just expanding the vision.
