The first time battle rap champion Iron Solomon participated in a lyrical prize fight, he didn’t even know there was verbal warfare on his schedule.
Just 18 years old, Solomon was a finalist at End of the Weak’s MC Challenge, a sort of hip-hop decathlon. Contestants compete in five categories (Beat Juggling, Written, Ciphers, A Cappella and Freestyle) with the aim of proving their superiority over a field of competitors.
The contest is more nuanced than the head-to-head battles that would later turn Solomon into an underground legend, but it quickly turned into one when the judges pronounced him the winner. The runner-up, a far more experienced rapper called Immortal Technique, didn’t agree with the results—and promptly challenged Solomon to another round.
“He went first and it turned into a battle,” recalls Solomon. “I was scared shitless because he was a beast, and still is. But somehow, I pulled out the win. That was the spark that set me off, and made me realize how successful I could be.”
The business of battle rap isn’t nearly as frothy as that practiced by the lyricists who comprise FORBES’ annual Hip-Hop Cash Kings package, but it’s a surprisingly lucrative sideline for a very specific set of up-and-coming artists. Though Solomon took home just $150 for his win over Immortal Technique, he was soon claiming prizes of $500-$2,500.
At the peak of his days as a lyrical warrior at the end of the 2000s, Solomon was flying around the country to vanquish verbal foes, sometimes to the tune of a $5,000 payout at contests like Fight Klub and Scribble Jam. He figures he was one of a handful of elite battle rappers pulling in as much as $20,000 per year from their conquests. As with any craft, though, it took a lot of work for Solomon to make his style seem effortless.
“I would definitely do a certain degree of research, watching footage of other rappers,” he says. “It’s a really tense situation because everyone is pacing and sizing each other up and mumbling like a crazy person … The second you know who you’re facing next, you’re thinking of the way they look and why that’s stupid.”
Even as Solomon moved his way up the ranks, his victories captured by cell phone cameras and broadcasted to millions via YouTube, he had his eye on becoming a full-fledged recording artist. That desire stemmed from his youth—growing up on New York’s Upper West Side in a family of musicians, he spent many nights in hazy jazz clubs and dank studio sessions. Long before bursting onto the battle rap scene in his late teens, he found himself getting thrown out of math class for beatboxing.
His big break came after an appearance on Los Angeles radio station Power 106, when he received phone calls from Snoop Dogg and Busta Rhymes, who’d seen footage of his battles online. From then on, Solomon received a steady stream of attention from hip-hop heavyweights, collaborating on songs with the likes of DMC (of Run-DMC), Cassidy and Talib Kweli (he also appeared as an honorable mention on our Best Jewish Rappers list, released last Hanukkah).
With his legend growing, Solomon plowed his prize money into setting up his own recording studio and has since released a handful of mixtapes, including the well-received Redrum this past Halloween. Next up: a full-length album, Monster, set for a March 27th debut on iTunes and Amazon; E1 Records will handle physical distribution.
The battle scene, meanwhile, has undergone a great deal of change. The tournaments of Solomon’s early days have been largely replaced by sponsored events where individual rappers spar in one-on-one prize fights; they receive money—sometimes $3,000 to $4,000—just to show up.
Still, Solomon won’t rule out an occasional return to the scene that set his star on the rise.
“I don’t think I’ll ever fully move away from battling,” he says. “I always want to have a presence and be able to jump in if it makes sense. But I feel I’ve put in my 10,000 hours, my Malcolm Gladwell expertise, and I’m ready to move on to the next thing.”
For more on the business of hip-hop, see my book Empire State of Mind: How Jay-Z Went From Street Corner to Corner Office. You can also follow me on Twitter and Facebook.
