So drastic has been his physical transformation that the running online debate since his release has centered not on his music but on whether he’s a clone. So just rude and toxic.”Īnd for the first time, he focused on health, shedding dozens of pounds, and turning a paunch into a six-pack. Temper so short, so violent, so aggressive.
Near the beginning of his most recent stint behind bars, at the high-security federal penitentiary in Terre Haute, Ind., he decided it was finally time for a change.įirst came withdrawal. He attempted rehab once, but it didn’t take. It was sincere nonchalance - like, I really didn’t care.” You told me that I was doing good or told me I was doing bad, you hated me or loved me, either which way I greeted with nonchalance. “I can’t say I felt happy my last six, seven years in the music business,” he said. “I was naïve to the fact that I was numb.” He had been smoking weed and drinking alcohol since he was a teenager, and drinking lean (or syrup, the prescription-strength cough syrup concoction) since he was 21 sometimes he added ecstasy or prescription pills. “In hindsight I see it for what it was: I was a drug addict,” he said. Why would I wanna go to a club and couldn’t smoke or drink? I felt like sex wouldn’t be good sober. Before his latest sentence, Gucci, 36, estimated, he hadn’t been fully sober since he was a teenager - around 17 years: “I felt like I couldn’t make music sober, I couldn’t enjoy my money sober. That means incarceration, and also drugs. He’s wearing a red V-neck T-shirt, distressed gray denim shorts, a diamond chain with a diamond cross pendant, and a chunky black ankle monitor over a red sock sticking out of a spotless Air Jordan 4. Gucci is the picture of a man relaxed, sparkling even - warm, cheerful, peaceful. “It’s like you living in a forest,” Gucci said, still grinning. Inside, though, the décor is Miami Modern: white marble, white leather, white piano, white Maybach in the garage, exercise equipment in the living room, palm trees on either side of the living room - inside the living room. Situated at the end of a nondescript cul-de-sac, it’s barely distinguishable from its modest upper-middle-class neighbors. He smiles as she brings the plate to the table, smiles as he jabs a fork into it, smiles as she lovingly hovers over him.īut for the clink of the fork hitting the plate, the three-story house is quiet. Up in this airy house’s recording studio, Gucci - everyone calls him Gucci - smiles widely and makes his way downstairs, following the smell of a chicken-and-egg scramble. It’s an early Thursday afternoon in June in this Atlanta suburb, and Keyshia Ka’oir calls out to her boyfriend, Gucci Mane, that breakfast is served.
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