Ozone Magazine

Plies no longer claims to be real. by now, we all know. From his 2007 debut The Real Testament to his follow-up The Definition of Real all the way to his third outing The RealIst, Fort Myers’ Plies has constantly re-iterated his realness. Now, with his brother Big Gates home from prison, Plies feels it’s about time to pivot from his once ubiquitous “real” philosophy and bring the world Goon Affiliated.

On his fourth album in 2 years, Plies is promising to do it bigger than he’s ever done it. He guarantees a classic or your money back, and is confident that his latest effort will be far better than any of its predecessors.

You’ve always had a great balance between street music and commercial music. How are you able to go the commercial route but maintain love from the streets at the same time?
I actually give my following all that credit, the people who gravitate towards my situation. I just always make music that’s true to me. I never one time went in the studio and said, “Let me make a record for radio.” I never did. Before my career really blossomed, I was on a national level with certain records like “Get You Wet,” or “Ms. Pretty Pussy.” There were a lot of records that were working for me without the national exposure. I was working on a national level before I ever got signed to a major, and those situations were what I like to consider a testament to the people that really fuck with me. A lot of those records from “Shawty,” to “Bust It Baby,” to “Hypnotize,” to “Becky,” and “I Got Plenty Money,” I just personally feel like I make diverse music. I ain’t mad every day, so I don’t make just mad music. I think I’m probably one of a few artists that this industry really accepts in terms of being able to make diverse music. I’ve learned that there’s a lot of different types of music fans in the world—there’s people who only listen to radio, there are people that just watch the outlets on cable TV that play videos, there’s certain people that just listen to shit that’s only in the streets. I realize that a lot of people just know Plies based on what’s playing on the radio as opposed to what’s actually been on three of my albums as well as my mixtapes, so for me to find that balance, I credit the people that fuck with me and support me. Even when you hear records on the radio, people gotta request those records for them to keep playing ‘em.

What made you decide to release “Becky” as a single? That’s a pretty unlikely radio record.
I actually cut that record about three weeks before we had the Super Bowl down here in Tampa. I remember having a couple of my homeboys listen to it, and I love [creating] a record that [brings] everybody to a unanimous consensus. When everybody heard that record they felt like it was a major record. When my brother Big Gates came home [from prison] I played my album for him and “Becky” was the third song on the album,  as soon as he heard that song he told me that he didn’t need to hear no more records, because he wanted that to be the first single for my new project. I would’ve never tried that shit at radio. I thought it was a “helluva” record, but at the same time I definitely gotta give him all the credit, because he picked it to be the single.

After three albums, what keeps you motivated?
I feel like the company. I’m honored to be a part of a system that’s ran like a mini-major in terms of the whole Big Gates Records brand. Even with this “Becky” situation, this is all our vision. It ain’t a label or a business partner that put a dime into this situation besides Big Gates Records, and we’ve got a record that’s crazy in the streets and crazy on radio. I think that mindframe allows us to be who we are as a company. We pride ourselves on not being the only ones around here eating and driving nice cars. From top to bottom as a company we believe in paying our employees, so with that being said, you might see me on the road with 9 or 10 niggas, but all 9 or 10 of them niggas [are] eating. I ain’t got no homeboys with me on the road; this is business. Every nigga you see me with is eating; when I’m eating, he’s eating, and when I ain’t eating, he’s still eating. I feel like for us to have as a company with the amount of people we have on payroll, I can’t sit down.

Let’s talk about your upcoming album Goon Affiliated. This is the first album you haven’t included the word “real” in the title. Why are you switching things up?
We wanted to make sure this project right here was something totally different than anything I ever did. I believe in the old cliché, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” but at the same time this is my first opportunity to have my brother home and for him to actually be hands-on with my situation. For people who know how the Federal system works, for the last three years with my brother being locked up, we were working off of 300 minutes per month that he was allowed to talk on the phone. This interview here itself can run us 200 minutes alone, so we were trying to conduct business with a very limited timeframe. Now that he’s home and able to be completely hands-on with my projects, we wanted to change everything; still make great quality music but change that whole “real” philosophy. We’re always trying to find what elevated the music from the last project, so with the Goon Affiliated situation, we felt like it was a good transition and a good title. You don’t have to be a goon to be goon affiliated. You can know a nigga that’s a goon and still be goon affiliated. I feel like that title covered everything. The name wasn’t too tough and it wasn’t too soft, so we felt like it fell right in the middle.

When Big Gates went to prison, your situation was completely different than it is now. Being that he was incarcerated during your rise to fame, did he actually know how big you had become while he was locked up?
The great thing about that is, I guess for niggas that done been locked up, or for niggas that’s currently in the system, whether it’s in the county jail or federal state prison, they get the information before we get the information. Most niggas that’s locked up were some of the most relevant niggas in the street at some point in time. I know it sounds crazy, but people in jail are able to get a good gauge on a person’s star power when they’re locked up. It’s not true for different aspects of life like fashion and other shit like that, but music is different. I knew he [Big Gates] had a good idea of how I had grown as an artist in terms of my celebrity status and it didn’t surprise him at all what we were able to do, because he was always in the loop and had kinda seen it and felt it on the inside. What surprised me the most was his ability to adapt and adjust [to life outside] and come home full speed ahead. He had 60 or 70 things he wanted to do his first day home, and I’ve seen at least 45 of those things already completed. That was more impressive to me than my fame probably was to him.

What was the first thing you guys did when he got home?
We went to work the first day. The day he got home was like a 19 hour day for us. We probably spent at least 19 hours in the office.

Throughout your whole career, which one of your songs has the most significance to you?
I have a record that was one of the bonus cuts on one of my albums, but it kinda got lost in the shuffle because only certain stores actually carry the bonus tracks. My personal favorite record is a record that most people haven’t heard, it’s called “Die Together.” That was a record I wrote to my brother and it’s basically saying, “When it’s my time to go, I just wish me and him could die together.” It wasn’t the biggest record, it didn’t make the charts or anything, but as far as personal feelings and how I felt, that was probably the most proud I’ve ever been of any record I released or put out.

My favorite Plies song is probably “Bid Long.” That was one of the first of your songs I ever heard.
I agree; that’s one of my top five favorites, too. And the crazy part is that some labels don’t have the ability to gauge those kinds of records. They gauge a successful record off black and white, like how many ringtones it’s selling, or how many digital singles sales, or how many times it’s spun on the radio. The corporate major label system isn’t designed to detect those kinds of records, and for an artist/businessman it allows me to continue to know how important records like “Bid Long” are. Radio stations ain’t playing those kinds of records, and in my opinion those are the realest kinds of records that a nigga can put out because they touch people when they hear it; it’s no different than a “Somebody Loves You” record. I can perform “Bid Long” in any part of the country and they sing that bitch all the way through. There are other records I’ve done in my career like “Family Straight,” and others that are real meaningful records, but these records get lost from a corporate and radio standpoint. I’ll always make ‘em for the streets because they mean the most.

That probably increases your longevity also, because people hear radio singles so much that they tired of hearing them after a few months, but a street record can live forever.
Totally, and that’s how I feel about this “Becky” record. This was the first record in my career that’s given me both. I had “Bust It Baby,” which was a big record: 13,000 spins, 100 million in audience at radio, but I wasn’t hearing that muthafucker in the streets. I was only hearing it on the radio. I feel like “Becky” is the first record that’s both huge on the radio and in the streets. The record is coming back number 1 most requested at all these different radio stations all over the country, and it has given me the biggest feel in the streets that I’ve ever had, and I think anytime you have a record that does both, that’s a real record.

Of course the radio songs mean more to your pockets than a street song would, so if you had to decide between making one or the other which would you choose?
I think my core following and what made me who I am will always be my street ties and my street affiliation. I just try to continue allowing myself to be who I am through my music. I got a particular song on my new album and one of the lines is, “I’m on my fourth album and still ain’t told my first lie.” And I personally take pride in that situation. For me to be able to make the music that I make and make it from a personal level and a personal experience that’s what I take pride in as a businessman and as an artist. I’m not finna get on a record that ain’t me, regardless of how much another label or another artist wants to pay me to be a part of it. I’m not finna write something that wasn’t factual information to my situation, and to me that’s an entity to this game that no longer exists. People ain’t standing on principles, values, and morals anymore. We talk about that all the time as a company; you got a lotta niggas that’s music whores. Niggas [are] willing to do whatever to get a check, and that’ll never happen to me as an artist. For me to pigeonhole and to fine line it, I’m just gonna continue to make music that represents who I am and wherever it falls or however it hits, whether it’s radio or in the streets. I’m gon’ just try to always keep up and strategize  my situation to best fit the current record that I got out.
 
Why have you put out so many albums so soon? This is your fourth one in 2 years.
It’s about always trying to do what I currently had never seen done before, and to do it not for personal gratification but to also do what makes the most sense for this company, Big Gates Records as a company and as a brand.  If you look around now, there’s a lot of things that have transitioned. When I first did “Shawty,” at that particular time it wasn’t cool for a street nigga to do a song talkin’ about a broad. Now I look around and niggas are freely doing female-driven records, and that game has definitely changed. Also, I look at it from coming back out quick, that was a whole other phase that was redefined by The Real Testament, The Definition of Real, and The REAList. Now you look around and niggas are rushing to come back out and labels are allowing niggas to come back out quick and help kill themselves because niggas don’t understand that at the end of the year, corporate America has a number they trying to reach. They have a quota to reach every year and they don’t care if they gotta put out 20 niggas to sell 2 million records. It’s just about reaching that quota so they can keep their jobs as a staff. But on my end, I’d never rush my situation if it wasn’t working in the best interest of what we’re trying to do as a company. For me to see two gold albums in 10 months, over a million records sold, that’s a hell of an accomplishment for what this game liked to consider a new artist out of the gate. To collectively have sold over a million and a half records in 18 months, very few niggas in the game are doing that. It takes most niggas 18 months to work one record.

When you decide your career is over, how many albums would you have liked to release?
I don’t really have a number that I’m trying to reach as an artist. As long as I can continue to creatively put music together that I’m cool with being in the streets with my name on it, I’ll continue to go at the rate I’ve been going. What’s so special about this Goon Affiliated situation is that I didn’t really have my other ear here with me to put together an album. Now that I’ve got my brother home, I’ve got my other ear. I have music that I let him listen to when he first got home, and he was saying, “Damn brah, how in the hell this wasn’t on any of the first three albums?” And it was because, for me, I was trying to paint a certain picture with every album. I know some records that I thought were gonna be bigger than other records, like “Worth Goin FED Fo” from my second album, at the time a lot of niggas I know was getting fucked up, so I felt it was a personal record for me. But looking back at it, I would’ve never put that record on the album. So for me to have him home is what makes this [album] so positive for me. I feel so good about the Goon Affiliated album that I’m actually trying to get the label to allow me to put this album in the stores and let any motherfucka that buys it and don’t like it get their money back. I feel that confident about this particular project.

So I’m assuming this is your best album ever?
It’s probably twice as good as any album I’ve ever put out. From front to back, 18 tracks, it won’t even be close.

Aside from Big Gates being home, what is it about Good Affiliated that’s so much better than all your other albums?
It’s the first time I’ve allowed myself to kinda come out my shell and really go out and fuck with a lot of different producers. And not major producers, because I feel it’s a lot of niggas in Fort Myers that got a beat machine that never had no major placement and can go out and make a quality track just as good as a nigga charging $150,000. I never allowed myself to get caught up in the production game. I had a vision that I was trying to accomplish, and I studied all of my [previous] three albums. When my brother came home — and a lotta niggas would never tell you this, but — I feel confident that my brother is my number one fan, totally, and it ain’t got shit to do with him being my brother or nothing. He fucks with my music in that magnitude, so we went back in and listened to all my albums, all my mixtapes, and we put together 15 songs from all my albums and mixtapes that would’ve made one classic album that would be around the next 10 years. When we put that together it allowed me to say, “Aight, this is what I want to do with this Goon Affiliated.”

You’re known to give away stacks of money at all of your shows. I heard you even gave away $50,000 at a show once. Are these just stunts or does the Plies stimulus package have a purpose?
I do it because I understand that there is some nigga trying to get to my show, in whatever particular city I’m in, that is trying to hustle to get his outfit together or get the money to ball in the club the way he wants to, and may probably get locked up in the process. Every city that I go to, I remind myself of that, and I’m almost certain that no matter where I go, somebody got fucked up trying to get to my show and didn’t make it. When there’s a barricade set up at my shows with a six-foot gap between the stage and the barricade, I tell security to take that shit down and let people get up to be able to touch me, because I understand how important that is for people who are spending top dollars to be able to come be a part of my situation.

Have you ever heard back from any of the people in the crowd you’ve given money to?
There was a nigga in Greensboro, North Carolina that I gave a stack to because he was just coming home from prison, and the next time I went to Greensboro the nigga showed up at my show. I actually didn’t remember him until he made me remember him and the situation. But the nigga told me, “Look at me, nigga. Let me take you outside and show you how I’m ridin’ now. I’m the man in my city, bruh; ever since you gave me a stack you put me back on my feet.” And I’m telling you, that was one of the best feelings I ever had in fucking with this music shit. But I’ve heard back from a lot of people who write feedback letters to The Power of Visions, which is our non-profit organization. So I get a lot of support mail—I don’t like to call it “fan” mail, because I think the term “fan” is an understatement to my supporters—but I get a lot of support mail from people who follow my situation and I always put it together and allow myself time to read it all when I get on my bus going to whatever city I’m going to. I prefer being on the bus instead of flying because it allows me time to read all the mail that I done got over the last two to three weeks.

Let’s talk for a second about the situation between you and T-Pain. Thankfully, it never really escalated. You kept it moving and he kept it moving, but have you two talked and settled it at all?
Um, naw. I feel like a lot of this game is built for that. I pride myself in where I’m at, and I ain’t wrote nann diss record about nann nigga. I think when you dissect this game, unfortunately when it’s two niggas that’s arguing it’s always a hot nigga and a not-a-hot nigga. It ain’t never two hot niggas arguing, it never happens and I allow myself to understand that. I’ll be the first person to tell you that “Shawty” was a helluva record for my career, and T-Pain took a part in that situation, so I’ll never come across as being ungrateful for any of my features or any of the people who has assisted in my career thus far, but I’m smart enough to know, too, at the end of the day, it’s more about what I do than what anybody else does and I kind of take that approach from a business standpoint. I’m only as good as my work ethic, and I understand that.

Speaking of business and work ethic, listening to your music you have a distinct Plies sound, and then in talking to you, you sound a lot more polished and professional. Where do you find the balance between the way you rap and the way you speak normally?
I think it’s important to be able to wear more than one hat. If you look at the niggas in this game that are successful, it’s the niggas that’s able to do both. I got a couple homeboys I wouldn’t even take to yo house, just because I understand and am willing to take responsibility for any of my partners and any of my actions. I let my pants sag every time I walk out the house, but I wouldn’t go to church like that. So for me, I think I understand this business a little better than most and for me it’s important for me to continue to educate myself and to groom myself to one day be what I think I have the capability of becoming. I ain’t never been ashamed, nor have I ever been afraid of allowing myself to get knowledge. I was telling somebody the other day about the streets, and if you ain’t careful, the streets’ll trick you. The streets talk bad about niggas that’s been to college, but as soon as you get fucked up you go and hire a nigga that went to college [as your attorney]. I understand that and I try to diversify myself well enough that I’m able to engage in any conversation.

I recently interviewed Fella, a new artist you’ve kinda taken under your wing. What did you see in him as an artist that made you want to work with him?
Once again, it was just me being honest with the situation. One of the employees of [Big Gates Records] brought Fella’s music to my brother and one day I was just driving by the office and my brother told me to listen to Fella’s music because it was something he thought I’d like. He gave me the CD, I got in my car, and before I got to the stop sign I had to skim through like 2 tracks. By the time I got on I-75, I called my brother and said, “Bruh, sign this nigga, man.”

I know you probably get handed a million CDs every month. How many new artist submissions do you actually listen to?
If I get a million I’m trying to listen to a million, because I look at it from a street perspective. Let’s say I get 40 CDs on the road this Friday. I say to myself, “There’s 40 niggas that’s trying to show me they tried.” I look at it like a nigga’s tryin’ to give me free money, because if he’s the right nigga, whether he’s a beat man or an artist, I would be a fool not to fuck with him. I feel like Fella was one of those situations. With the right system in place he can really be the right nigga.

You have a tendency to deal with artists and producers who aren’t really known. Why do you think it’s important to work with artists and producers that aren’t yet established?
It’s always important to me, and when the album’s track listing gets revealed I’ll be able to tell you more about who is on there, because this is the first album where I have other rappers featured on my album. I’ve never done it before, but this is something that me and my brother felt would be good to do. I know that my core following has other niggas that they like listening to, too. I know I ain’t the only nigga a mu’fucka listens to everyday, so I know my core following would like to hear me work with other rappers as well. The first dude I actually worked with on this album—I’ll tell you who it is once the track listing comes out—was just a dude I fuck with musically, I actually listen to his music. I ain’t never been a name chaser. I gotta be able to believe the nigga that’s on my album, and I know a lotta niggas can’t say that. A lot of artists will fuck with a nigga just because he’s hot, but I can’t do that. It’s some niggas that do features who don’t even know the artist they doing the feature for, but if a nigga’s on my album, that’s letting you know I believe that this nigga is a real nigga. //