Some stories begin with a mic in hand. MRG’s began with a bat and glove. Before stages and studio sessions, it was dugouts and diamond dust in Queens. But even then, there was rhythm, ootwork between bases, cadence in the swing, a kind of poetry in precision. Today, MRG moves with that same discipline, only now his cleats have been traded for culture-shifting verses, spit in both English and Spanish with the confidence of someone who’s finally wearing the jersey he was always meant to.

With “It’s MRG Not Mr. G”, his debut LP via EMPIRE, the Dominican-American emcee isn’t just making noise, he’s claiming space. Part memoir, part mission statement, the album is steeped in memory, movement, and meticulous craft. It’s the sound of someone who knows exactly who they are, and isn’t afraid to correct you if you get the name wrong.

We sat down with MRG to talk about legacy, language, and the weight of a father’s jersey stitched with lessons.