Teejay AirDrops scamming strategies to a select few, and pulls others aside to give them one-on-one advice that they jot down on their phones before leaving swiftly with a business handshake. Outside of the convention, someone sets a Supreme shoulder bag on fire for no apparent reason. His heavy use of pop culture references and potentially self-incriminating details make his tracks appeal to a new generation of digital natives. Many of the kids at the convention see themselves in Teejay: They just want to come up and get fly, and scamming is their means to do that. And given that many of his described crimes involve swindling some of the wealthiest companies on Earth, he could even be seen as something of a rap Robin Hood for the age of cryptocurrency. Teejay is self-aware enough to point out the very dark humor in it all. Two weeks later, during his first live performance in L.
Before Detroit kid Teejayx6 turned 12, he knew how to scam adults on Twitter. As he recounted all of this, he giggled every so often. He wasn't bragging so much as answering the questions put to him, as breezily as someone taking you through their step-by-step recipe for fluffy pancakes. And yet, despite the scamming, Teejayx6 wanted to be a rapper. And so, when he was about 15 or 16, he merged both vocations.
Our editorial content is not influenced by any commissions we receive. Teejayx6, real name unknown, has been blowing up this year. The interview, edited and condensed for clarity, is below.
A few minutes into my phone call with Teejayx6—a Detroit teenager from a world called scam rap—he stops to chat with a shop clerk. I feel, very very slightly, like Edward Norton in Fight Club. When he begs the diner waiter to temporarily stop fighting the system? And not soil the soup? Is he telling me the truth? I do not know. Because Teejayx6 is a self-proclaimed scammer. All he does is scam and rap about it.