Your bag is empty.
Twenty summers after “Hustlin’” turned Rick Ross into an overnight rap heavyweight, he has become something considerably harder to manufacture: an institution.
The Miami rapper, born William Roberts II, entered the Billboard 200 at number one with his 2006 debut, Port of Miami. Maybach Music Group followed, helping launch the careers of artists including Meek Mill and Wale, while Ross—AKA Ricky Rozay—accumulated nine Grammy nominations and one of hip hop’s most recognizable catalogs.
The empire eventually became physical. There is the sprawling Georgia estate Ross calls the Promise Land, formerly owned by Evander Holyfield and complete with 109 rooms and a pool large enough to require its own horizon. It now hosts Ross’ annual car and bike show, where thousands arrive to experience the oversized world he once described only in records.
But the Rick Ross who spoke with Playboy sounds less interested in proving that he possesses luxury than in defining what luxury means after 20 years of success. His 12th studio album, Set in Stone, arrives two decades after Port of Miami and finds him rapping, as he puts it, from the “penthouse perspective.”
Shortly before the release of Set in Stone, Playboy caught up with Ross in New York City to discuss accountability, manhood, artificial intelligence, creative rituals, beautiful women, bad contracts, French wine brand Luc Belaire, and the legacy he plans to leave behind.
Your estate has become almost as famous as you are. Is there one room, object, or view that still makes you stop and think, ‘Man, I really built this?’
Without a doubt. There are actually two or three views.
The one right over the main entrance—whenever I have a car show, I step out and get a full frontal view of the estate. I could sit there for an hour without saying a word for a lot of different reasons.
There’s also the spot where you step out over the deck and overlook the swimming pool. It’s something I’ve never seen anywhere else. I can really reflect there.
You built your image around abundance: beautiful homes, cars, champagne, women, and the entire vision. What does power mean to you now that it didn’t when you were younger?
Power is truly about happiness.
Power is truly about having time—time for yourself and time to spend where you want. Time is the one currency you cannot get back. What’s the use of having all the financial wealth but not having the time to enjoy it and share it with the ones who mean the most to you?
Young men see you as a model of confidence, success, and, of course, the Biggest Boss. What do they misunderstand about being a boss?
It’s something I believe we all have inside of us that we can achieve.
Becoming a boss begins with having a dream. There was never a cheat code for me. I never really had a big homie who gave me the game. That was something I injected into everything I did, everywhere I went, and everything I said. I told myself, ‘I will never fold on it.’
So, big homie, you’re the boss now. There will be a lot of things you enjoy—and things you won’t enjoy—that come with being there. But I accept that.
What is something money still cannot buy that surprised you as you got older?
Money still can’t buy you respect. That’s something you have to earn. You could have a lot of money, and where you’re from, you might still be considered a piece of shit. That’s the truth. You have a lot of work to put in out here. You can’t buy respect.
You have spent nearly 20 years rapping about wealth and have referenced everyone from Biggie to Larry Hoover. Who inspires the way you think about success?
It’s a lot of different people because I can draw from a little bit of everything. I can draw from a little kid cutting up and selling hats in his grandmother’s basement, just from the way he can dream. You could be a kid who says, “I want to make these $75 hats.” We know you’re making them for two dollars, but it’s the confidence that sells the hats. Think back to Nipsey Hussle having the first $100 mixtape. It was genius.
Was it logical? No.
Did it work? It did.
He had the confidence to do it because he believed in himself. If you can’t bet the house on yourself, nobody else will.
What does being a man mean to you today that it didn’t when you first entered the game?
Total accountability. No excuses necessary. If it goes wrong, it’s your fault. If it goes right, that’s right.
Have we made masculinity more complicated, or are we finally having the right conversations about manhood?
I love the conversations we’re having, good and bad. I don’t always agree with everything, but I love that it’s being discussed. The older you become, and the more you invest in yourself, the more you have to lose. You take it and hold it that much closer to your heart.
Your voice, beats, ad-libs, and atmosphere are unmistakably Rick Ross. With AI entering music, what can technology do—and what can it never replace?
Technology can duplicate the greats. That’s all it really is: artificial intelligence. But can it accurately capture the soul of Rick Ross? No. Could it duplicate what I’ve already done? Of course it can. But every time I step in front of the microphone, I’m going to do something, believe it or not, in a way I’ve never done it before.
Suppose a young rapper wants you on a record but cannot afford a Rick Ross feature. Should he turn to AI?
I might not charge him. I work with artists all the time. I said something on my Instagram Story 30 minutes ago: To all the young hustlers who are really working hard, reach out to me. I’m willing to potentially collaborate with you.
It’s most definitely not about money.
For the young artists who want to do a collaboration with Rick Ross, I’m not going to tell you to quit chasing your dreams.
Do you have a ritual when you are getting ready to record?
I do. It’s a chilled bottle of Luc Belaire Rosé and usually three or four joints of the finest flower that the streets have to offer.
Indica or sativa?
Whatever is the finest. Whatever tastes the best. I don’t even ask anymore. My guy comes through for me, and the names are just names. As long as he knows what I want it to smell like right off the rip, what I want it to feel like, and what I want it to taste like.
It has to be the finest.
I travel a lot and go a lot of places. As soon as I land, my close homies are usually in high positions, so they know what the best is. That’s clear with everybody I’m with.
Every city has its own rhythm. Is there a Miami restaurant, hotel, cigar lounge or late-night spot that has become part of yours?
There are a few spots. Sparrow was one of the spots I loved to creep through in the middle of the night. Nice, sexy, amazing date. Then it goes on from there.
What is the most luxurious date you have ever planned that had nothing to do with money?
Miami Beach is one of those places where you can just get outside.
Let’s walk along the ocean. Let’s stop and have a cafecito. Let’s just converse a little bit. We can stop to watch people dive off the cliffs or the big cruise ships pass by Fisher Island.
It won’t cost anything. Just a little time.
What is the most attractive quality your woman [model and real estate agent Jazzma Kendrick] has that has nothing to do with her appearance?
Her sense of humor. She’s a funny motherfucker, man. Nonstop funny. I have a good time with her every day.
You have spent your career surrounded by beautiful women, but beauty and chemistry are not the same thing. What do you find attractive now that you didn’t 20 years ago?
Wow. I never thought I would fall asleep holding hands with someone. Just that intimacy. Oh my God, I never imagined Rozay doing anything like that.
Set in Stone comes from an older, more mature Rick Ross. How has the perspective in your music changed?
I came into the game with a certain passion. Speaking of “Everyday I’m Hustlin’,” I always spoke about going from mud to marble and being willing to work through anything that stood between me and the goals I set.
Now I’m speaking from the penthouse perspective, speaking for the young hustlers.
What should those young hustlers do differently from what you did?
Taking losses can come with some of the most valuable lessons you will ever learn.
The first contract I signed, which really didn’t turn out well for me, became a blessing. I’m not a person who is going to complain. I’m going to work myself out of the situation and make sure I never put the people around me in that same predicament.
For me, it’s always solid to follow your heart. What feels right? What feels best?
You may have a manager who feels one way, and they could be totally fucking wrong—or vice versa. It will always fall back on you. So once again, we go back to accountability. No excuses accepted.
Take everyone’s input. Say, “I’m going to consider that.” But you have to go with what you feel because, in the end, you have to answer for yourself. You’re the only one who will be standing there.
How did your brand ambassadorship with Luc Belaire begin?
It came about from me partying. I had a new hit record out, flew to New York for a concert, and had an after-party with DJ Clue. He was hosting it. I came in with 20 people, and we were standing on the couches. It was one of those moments. It was the shit you had been working for. The club brought out 10, 20, 30 black bottles. I had never seen them before—and I was a person who could party five nights a week, easily, and enjoy it. Everybody was celebrating and congratulating me: “Yo, Rozay, you have one of the biggest records in rap history.”
By the time I got back to my room—I believe I was staying at the London Hotel—the first thing I thought when I woke up was, “Yo, what the fuck was that we were drinking? I want more.” I reached out to DJ Clue. He told me it was Luc Belaire and said he knew the guy, Brett [Berish, CEO]. He said Brett was a cool dude and wanted to introduce us. I said, “That’s cool, too, but I need some more of those bottles for today and tonight.”
I had another two or three nights in New York City, and I drank the black bottles every night. That was the introduction.
Why did the partnership last?
It was organic. Before my music career took off, Prince—may he rest in peace—owned a club on Washington Avenue in Miami. All the biggest stars in the world went there. I remember asking one of the ladies what they were drinking, and she said rosé. I wrote a song and added my name to it. So it has always been about the best bubbles I came across.
I met Brett through DJ Clue, one of the first DJs to play my records in New York City. It was natural. We grew together. Once I began speaking with Brett, I said, “Yo, this motherfucker really is cool, man.” It naturally took its course.
When people look back on Rick Ross, what do you want the legacy to be?
An amazing hustler. I would be extremely cool with that because I never came into the game seeking radio spins. I never said, “Let’s do the ultimate pop record and put Paris Hilton on the tour.” That was never my goal. I always wanted to do it for the streets, for the culture, and for where I came from.
And here we are, 20 summers later. Ricky Rozay couldn’t have fathomed that. Yet here we are.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.