Today we’d like to introduce you to Prince Jabbar.
Hi Prince , please kick things off for us with an introduction to yourself and your story.
I was born in Philadelphia, and since I could remember, I was always the center of attention. I used to dance and sing in the living room for my family, just full of life and dreams. My mom had me in church singing solos at just three years old. I started modeling shortly after, and by the time I was five, I was sitting down for lunch with the mayor of New York after winning a competition. That moment made me feel like anything was possible.
In 2012, we moved to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. My mom kept pushing me toward greatness , I was taking dance classes, doing vocal lessons, and even acted in a film festival movie. I recorded a few demos too. But when I turned 12, I told her I didn’t want to do it anymore , I just wanted to be a kid. Even after all the time, money, and energy she put in, she respected that and let me live my childhood.
In 2015, I lost my mom. That was the hardest moment of my life. I moved in with my grandmother , her mom , and I made a decision: I wasn’t going to drown in grief. Instead, I channeled everything into creativity. I started doing comedy skits on YouTube and jumped on Facebook Live when it first became a thing. In 2016, I rebranded myself from just comedy to “comedy with a twist.” I would go live downtown, run around Philly trolling, joke with strangers, even go live during school. I was getting 70,000 views after a single stream. It turned into something bigger than I ever expected , people were recognizing me, brand deals were coming in, and I had a real name and brand.
But life hit again. In 2018, my grandmother passed away, and I moved back to Myrtle Beach with my brother, sister, and stepdad. I stopped doing lives. I was changing , growing , and I felt like it was time to step into a new phase. Music was calling me again, but my voice wasn’t the same after years of not singing. That’s when I remembered, my mom, Kashmere, was a known rapper in Philly. That’s when I said to myself, maybe I’ll rap.
I was nervous. People knew me as the funny guy , I didn’t know if they’d take me seriously. But I dropped a song on my phone called War, and the love I got was unreal. That gave me the courage to keep going. I released more singles and eventually dropped my first EP, Space Launch. It did numbers, and people started looking at me differently.
In 2020, I moved back to Philly briefly, then to Baltimore that July. That’s when I dropped Space Launch 2: Kingdom on Space , this time under an independent label. This one was different: it was the official rollout, professional studio sound, full-on visuals, everything. That EP set a real tone for me in the industry. I started performing, releasing high-quality videos, and hosting events around Baltimore. My name was buzzing.
But with success came tension. People I thought were friends started acting funny. I cut a lot of folks off, tightened my circle, and focused on myself. I went back to school and got to work on my third EP, New Era. And it really was a new era for me. That project brought me so many blessings , I cashed my first real check, booked more shows, and finally started to feel like all the pieces were coming together.
This journey hasn’t been easy. I’ve lost a lot, but I’ve grown more than I ever imagined. Every stage of my life , from singing in church at 3, to trolling Philly on Facebook Live, to now making music that moves people , it’s all part of who I am. I’m Prince Jabbar. And I’m just getting started.
We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
My journey has been anything but easy. I’ve faced so much loss, so much silence, and so many moments where I had to pull myself through the darkness with no one but me.
Losing my mom in 2015 shifted my entire world. She was more than a mother , she was my biggest supporter, my manager, my cheerleader, and the first person who believed in me. After everything she poured into me , the church solos, the dance classes, the film roles, the modeling , she still let me step back when I needed to just be a kid. That kind of love runs deep. So when I lost her, I didn’t just lose a parent. I lost the foundation I stood on.
Then in 2018, I lost my grandmother , the woman who stepped in to raise me when I felt like I had nothing left. Losing both of them before I even turned 20 forced me to grow up fast. It also forced me to figure out who I was without the people who once made me feel like I could do anything.
And while grief shaped me, another layer of my struggle has been showing up as a gay Black man in the rap industry , one that’s still heavily male-dominated, straight-centered, and often unwelcoming to people like me. It’s a space where you’re constantly expected to fit in a box. I’ve had people try to label me as “the flamboyant gay rapper” like that’s the only thing that defines me. But I’m not here to be a label. I’m not here to be reduced to a performance of what people think gay looks or sounds like. I’m here to be an artist. Period.
What hurts the most, though, is the lack of genuine family support. I’ve had blood relatives turn cold on me, not show up, or only show love when it benefits them. There were birthdays, shows, and milestones that I celebrated alone , moments where I looked around and realized the people I hoped would be proud of me weren’t even watching. That kind of silence is loud. But it taught me how to clap for myself, even when it hurt. It taught me how to turn loneliness into motivation, and pain into fuel.
I’ve cried in private, smiled in public, and kept pushing when most people would’ve stopped. And still , I’m here. Creating, evolving, rising. Every setback shaped me. Every fake friend made me more solid. Every time I was underestimated, I showed up louder.
No, it hasn’t been smooth. But it’s been real. And that’s why every win means more. Because I earned it , with nothing handed to me and no promises made. Just faith, fight, and the belief that I was born to do this.
Thanks for sharing that. So, maybe next you can tell us a bit more about your work?
At my core, I’m an artist and a storyteller. I’m a rapper, a performer, a creative director , and more recently, I’ve stepped into the role of someone who inspires others just by showing up fully as myself. Whether I’m in the studio recording, performing on stage, or creating content that connects with people online, everything I do is rooted in authenticity. I don’t just make music , I make moments. I give people something they can feel.
I’m known for my energy, my voice, and my vision. I specialize in creating raw, emotional, and catchy music that blends storytelling with sound , sometimes it’s fun and turnt up, sometimes it’s real and vulnerable. I’m not afraid to talk about what I’ve been through: grief, identity, survival, love, and legacy. I’ve performed at festivals, pride events, clubs, and block parties. I host events, curate visuals, and collaborate with other creatives who share that same hunger and heart.
One of the things I’m most proud of is that I built this from nothing. No handouts, no industry backing, no co-signs. Just grit, creativity, and community. I recorded my first songs from my phone. I did my first shows with my own money. And I built my brand online from the ground up. From Facebook Live to viral skits to full music rollouts , I’ve touched every part of the process. And that makes every step of the journey mean more.
What sets me apart is that I don’t fake it. I’m not trying to be anybody else. I’m Prince Jabbar , a gay Black man in rap who refuses to dim his light, water down his message, or play small to make people comfortable. I’m bringing something different to the table. I’m blending style, vulnerability, humor, and strength. I can make you laugh, cry, dance, and think , sometimes all in the same track.
But more than anything, I’m proud that I’m still standing. That I’ve turned pain into purpose. That I’m becoming the person I needed when I was younger. I want people to look at me and know that being different isn’t a weakness , it’s the superpower.
Alright, so to wrap up, is there anything else you’d like to share with us?
What I want readers to know is this: you don’t have to wait for permission to be great. You don’t have to fit into anybody’s box to be respected, seen, or heard. I’m proof that you can come from loss, from pain, from being overlooked , and still rise.
I know what it feels like to not have support, to feel like the people closest to you don’t believe in your dream. But I also know what it feels like to believe in yourself enough to keep going anyway. That kind of self-love is what saved me. And that’s what I try to pour into my music and into everything I do.
To the ones who feel different, left out, or underestimated , keep showing up. Keep creating. Keep dreaming out loud. Your story matters, your art matters, and your presence is powerful. You don’t have to be perfect, you just have to be real.
I’m still becoming. I’m still learning. But I’m proud of how far I’ve come , and I’m even more excited about what’s next. So stay tuned, stay locked in with me, and remember: this is only the beginning
Pricing:
- $400 booking fee
Contact Info:
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jabbarsworld
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/share/1CLeNQYD1x/
- Twitter: https://x.com/jabbarsworld
- Youtube: https://youtube.com/@princejabbar8901
