When Pharrell called T.I. “the JAY-Z of the South” in 2001, it virtually had the weight of a player like LeBron James being hyped before hitting the NBA. Being compared to a GOAT rapper by an equally GOATed producer comes with lofty standards—and after his debut I’m Serious failed to make a dent, they seemed insurmountable. But the rapper born Clifford Harris’ 2003 sophomore album Trap Muzik began to make good on those comparisons: He had Hov’s unwavering sense of cool; a tight, commanding delivery with slick wordplay; and a similar ability to unpack dimensions of humanity with street life as the motif. But unlike Jay, T.I. was faced with a different hurdle: translating “the trap,” the South’s metaphorical description of the world of drug dealing, to an audience that hadn’t understood it yet. While the question of who took the phrase mainstream has been contended (T.I. himself attempted to bring some legitimate documentation with his Trap Music Museum, a brick-and-mortar disambiguation of the genre which opened in Atlanta in 2018), Trap Muzik showcased a wide dynamic of experiences while maintaining a common foundation. “Doin’ My Job” defends the dusk-till-dawn dedication of dope dealers against demonization, while the self-proclaimed dope-boy anthem “24’s” is as much of a street life credo as The LOX’s “Money, Power & Respect.” “Look What I Got” and “Let’s Get Away” enjoy the spoils of hustling, and album closer “Long Live Da Game” shows the deadly consequences with cinematic flair. “T.I. Vs. T.I.P.” seeks balance between street credibility and a celebrity with everything to lose. Trap Muzik isn’t just a vehicle to praise drug-dealing, but a space to weigh out its highs and lows. “We can't help it ’cause it is like this/We don't like it no more than you that we live like this,” he laments. T.I. tells all of these stories while leaning into his distinctive Southern drawl and enlisting the likes of DJ Toomp and San “Chez” Holmes to build bouncy, bassy productions that were equally distinctive to Atlanta. In the years that followed, T.I. became one of the most consistent artists that rap had to offer, below the Mason-Dixon or otherwise, and trap grew to be identified more as a catch-all description of a sound than as a topical category of lyrics. But his contributions to the genre are way bigger than one museum can hold.