When Scuttino sits down, we start talking about his day job. He tells us about running a family trucking company with his dad, driving trucks, changing tires and helping out with anything else that needs to be done. Another person from the street recognizes Scuttino. After exchanging greetings, he notices he’s doing an interview with The Observer. “Handle your business,” he tells him.
Scuttino admits he doesn’t balance his 9-to-5 with his other job as a rapper, which can be hard to manage. “I just try,” Scuttino says. “Every day is different. Whatever takes priority right at that moment, that’s where I try my best to go towards. It’s so complicated cause I got kids, then I got my day job, then I got music. You can’t give 100% to everything all at once. When I’m 100% at this, I’m slacking somewhere else. It’s still finding a balance. I’m just trying to figure shit out, but everything is flourishing. Everything is showing growth.”
“Dallas is where I found myself, but I still won’t forget where I come from originally,” Scuttino says of shouting out his hometown of Monroe.
Kendall Chambers
The focus for this evening is 100% on Scuttino’s music. On July 22, the Oak Cliff rapper released a new eight-track EP titled u feel me? Before its release, Scuttino has been doing shows in Deep Ellum; his most recent was opening for Akeem Ali’s The Good Looking Tour with Harris. He introduced himself as “Your Favorite Cousin,” Scuttino, from Dallas by way of Monroe, Louisiana. He did u feel me? tracks like “smokedranktalkshit” and his biggest song, “Doug Dimmadome,” named after the businessman with an oversized personality and a ten-gallon hat from The Fairly OddParents. Although the packed crowd was here for Ali, Scuttino seized the opportunity to win some fans over, delivering one of his best sets to date.
This year, between the Ali show, doing SXSW and appearing in LaRon “HalfpintFilmz” Perkins’ Behind the Bars cypher with Hashi Senjoo, Rakim Al-Jabbaar and Devy Stonez, Big Tino’s career is about to break through the mainstream. No matter what stage he touches, he always shouts out Monroe, reminding people that Louisiana is home. “Dallas is where I found myself, but I still won’t forget where I come from originally,” Scuttino says. “I feel like I don't want to leave any stone unturned about myself. Even though I was raised here, I still got a lot of my heart out there.”
Scuttino sums up his “colorful upbringing” – growing up in Robinson Place, his move to Oak Cliff with his dad when he was nine or 10, his dad leaving a “specific lifestyle” after Hurricane Katrina to rough it out in Oak Cliff, living out of hotels until finding a permanent home – as motivation to find his tribe and adapt to his new surroundings. He’s been rapping since the third grade, but his friends encouraged him to get serious about his musical talent because he was “too good not to be doing this.” In 2020, after putting out Kid Tape, he dropped get home under free blck., a group consisting of himself, UrHighness and Kaamo. In his solo work, Scuttino, the lyrically inclined member, never stopped honing his craft while free blck. took a hiatus. He then released more EPs, like 2023’s Oak Cliff and 2024’s Champagne Campaign, to build up local buzz.
His musical foundation ranges from UGK and 8Ball & MJG to Lauryn Hill and Erykah Badu. He lists Jimmy Hendrix, T-Pain and Kelly Clarkson as influences.
“I fucking love Kelly Clarkson,” Scuttino says, mentioning her 2004 album Breakaway. “‘Behind These Hazel Eyes,’ crazy. It’s some shit on there.”
His mom put him onto Sade. He learned about No Limit from his dad.
“It’s certain Mystical albums that I can [rap] top to bottom,” he says.
“When I’m 100% at this, I’m slacking somewhere else. It’s still finding a balance. I’m just trying to figure shit out, but everything is flourishing. Everything is showing growth.”
Scuttino breaks down each of his projects as stages of his creativity. His first project was surface-level and skill-based. His second revealed more about who he is behind the raps. His third, u feel me?, is Scuttino pulling out more stories that go deeper, mentally and emotionally. The title has several meanings: One is related to his oldest daughter, an inside joke they do for acknowledging each other’s statements in agreement or disagreement (you feel me?). The other is comprehension and connection for the lyrics in these songs, striking a chord among his listeners.
“I’m finna make all of this shit like therapy,” Scuttino says. “I’m finna share everything with y’all. My fan base and my group of people, they gonna call me by first name damn near. I’m just trying to take it all the way there.”
On the verge of fame, he’s paying homage to Texas rap culture with “five percent” and breaks off into refreshing new pockets on “backinmybag.” On songs like “noah’s ark,” his melodic intricacies and vocal inflections show he’s pushing himself to try new flows. “didntchaknow (ok uh huh)” inputs the cheat code for instant likeability by flipping Badu’s “Didn't Cha Know” into a braggadocious track that you’ll hear a lot this summer. “Stuck” is a personal song about being stuck in the past, a phrase that relates to being hung up on an ex, to being a father and learning about unconditional love, righting the wrongs you’ve seen before.
After the release of u feel me?, Scuttino’s goal is to solve the puzzle of making it rap. He was going to be rapping in his free time anyway, why not try to get paid for it? His manager is doing his part as his advocate, informing inquiring minds about Scuttino’s music, jumping in on livestreams by Wayno Clark and Sonny Digital to share songs and answering listening session submissions held by Carl Chery on X.
Scuttino is opening himself to new artist collaborations with an intention in mind.
“I want to bridge the gap,” Scuttino says. “Make everybody stop being scared of collaborating with each other because we are so different.”
It’s hard to make a living off of rap. But he’s observant about how strength in numbers can help a scene get noticed and develop a sound. He uses an example of two people from Oak Cliff who grew up together and went to the same school. They know of each other, but don’t talk. One is a skater. The other is a drug dealer who lives everything he raps about. “The skateboarder probably plays guitar or something and you probably do this type of music over here, but you need some strings on your shit,” Scuttino explains. “But you don't want to talk to the person that you grew up with?”
“I want to bring it all together,” he continues. “We are Dallas. It’s nothing we can’t do when we come together. We can make this [sound] go anywhere that we want it to go.”
Scuttino is back in his bag.
Kendall Chambers
