MRG INTERVIEW: Welcome to another interview from VIPER, today we’re thrilled to be joined by a phenomenal artist who’s just dropped a powerful statement to the world. We’re talking about New York rapper MRG, born Matthew Raymond Guzmán, known for blending his Dominican heritage and Queens roots into a distinct “Spanglish Rap” sound. Currently celebrating the April release of his official debut album, ‘It’s MRG Not Mr. G’, we spoke to him about the album, plus his love for UK Drill and co-signs from Big Narstie and Timbaland…
Congratulations on the release of ‘It’s MRG Not Mr. G’! This album feels like a significant statement. Can you tell us about the journey and self-discovery that shaped this project, and why was now the right time for your official debut album?
Appreciate y’all! Yeah, this album really came from a deep, personal place. Most of it was just me alone in my bedroom, freestyling, no pen—just raw emotion and soul. At first, I felt pressure to chase hits and match the numbers that got me signed, but that mindset quickly became draining. It started to feel like I was making music for everyone but myself. A lot of those early songs didn’t even make the final cut. Eventually, I had to block out the noise.
People were hitting me with all kinds of advice—how often I should drop, how many songs to put out, how I should dress, how my videos should look. And while I know most of them meant well, it didn’t feel true to me. I had to step back, go inward, and remind myself why I do this in the first place. This album is really about trusting myself again. I’ve been through a lot—from losing my pops, to mental health struggles, to trying to find my footing in an industry that’s not always welcoming.
But that journey forced me to grow. It helped me reconnect with my purpose, my voice, and my identity as an artist. I think now was the right time for my debut because I finally feel like I know who I am—and I’ve got something real to say. I’m not just introducing myself with this album—I’m making it known that I’m here to stay.
The album title itself, ‘It’s MRG Not Mr. G’, stems from a humorous encounter. How important is it for you to establish your identity clearly in the music industry, and how does this album contribute to that?
Facts, the title came from a funny moment, but it actually means a lot more. People have been mispronouncing my name for years—DJs, fans, even labels. I’ve literally had contracts from major labels where they addressed me as “Mr. G.” Even Alexa calls me that. So when Ken Starrrz came up to me at a Giants game and called me “Mr. G,” I corrected him like I always do—“It’s MRG.” My boy Wid overheard and was like, “Yo… that’s the album title.” And it just clicked.
For me, that title is about identity. It’s about claiming who I am, correcting the record, and letting the world know I’m here for the long run. This industry will box you in or mislabel you if you don’t define yourself first. And that’s what this album does—it plants the flag. It’s not just correcting a name—it’s making a statement: Get it right now, because you’re gonna be hearing it a lot.
This project is me stepping into my moment, no aliases, no confusion, just MRG. My story, my sound, my legacy. That title flipped a common mistake into a powerful message—and that’s what I’ve been doing my whole career.
The album cover features your late father’s football jersey, which you describe as “magical armour.” Could you elaborate on the significance of this tribute and how his legacy influences your approach to your music career?
Yeah, the jersey on the cover is my late father’s high school football jersey from George Washington High in Washington Heights. That man was my hero—my role model in every way. He taught me how to move with discipline, how to stay solid, and how to believe in myself when no one else did. He believed in me before I even fully believed in myself, and that shaped who I am—not just as an artist, but as a man.
Wearing his jersey isn’t just a tribute—it’s a symbol. It represents everything he poured into me. That jersey carries our last name—Guzman—and when I put it on, it doesn’t feel like just fabric. It feels like armour. It feels like a superpower. That’s why I described it as “magical armour.” It’s spiritual. It grounds me and gives me strength. Growing up, Gladiator was our favourite movie, and I always think about that scene in the sequel where Maximus’ son Lucius puts on his father’s armour. That’s exactly what it feels like for me.
I’m stepping into the arena—this industry, this life—with all the lessons, the love, and the legacy my pops gave me. The music industry is like the colosseum—loud, ruthless, and cutthroat. But that jersey reminds me I’m built for it. I didn’t come this far to play it safe. I’m here to dominate, inspire, and carry my father’s legacy forward with pride.
You’ve had a fascinating journey, from being a top baseball prospect and Villanova scholar to an IT professional before fully committing to music in 2018. How do you feel these diverse experiences have shaped you as an artist and your perspective on the music industry?
It’s been a wild ride for sure, but every chapter of my life shaped me into the artist I am today. Coming from a sports background—especially being a top baseball prospect—instilled discipline in me early. In sports, you learn how to show up even when you don’t feel like it. You learn how to deal with pressure, how to bounce back from failure, how to lock in when the stakes are high.
All of that translated directly into how I approach my music career. Villanova sharpened my mind and my communication skills. I graduated on a full academic scholarship, and that gave me the confidence to walk into any room—industry or otherwise—and hold my own. It taught me how to move strategically, how to think long-term, and how to see through the smoke and mirrors that are everywhere in this business.
I only did the 9-to-5 IT job to pay off my student loans and make my parents proud—I knew from day one it was temporary. I always had the bigger vision. I wore the corporate outfits, showed up, did what I had to do, but I knew I was quitting eventually to do music full time. I left the matrix a long time ago, and not a single day goes by where I regret that decision.
It just gave me more clarity, more hunger, and more proof that I was built for this path. Because of my diverse experiences and upbringing, I can walk in any hood in the world and any corporate office, and still be myself. That’s my superpower. I’m comfortable in both rooms because I’ve lived in both. I know how to speak to people from all walks of life, and that perspective keeps me grounded in an industry that’s often full of smoke and mirrors.
‘It’s MRG Not Mr. G’ blends Hip Hop, Trap, Reggaeton, and Pop, reflecting your Caribbean heritage and New York roots. How do you navigate these different sonic worlds to create your own distinct “Spanglish Rap” sound?
Navigating different genres comes naturally to me because I genuinely love all the sounds I blend—Hip Hop, Trap, Reggaeton, even Pop. I grew up surrounded by all of it. Being from Queens, one of the most diverse places in the world, and having Dominican roots, it’s in my DNA to mix cultures, sounds, and languages. That’s what makes my music me.
My “Spanglish Rap” sound wasn’t some calculated move—it came from real life. I’m not fluent in Spanish, and in a way, that’s been a blessing. It allows me to drop Spanish in a way that feels natural, swaggy, and still accessible to people who don’t speak the language. I give just enough context so you feel the vibe even if you don’t understand every word. That’s why it hits different—it’s authentic to how I talk, how I was raised, and how I express myself.
I also get bored doing just one thing sonically. I’m not trying to stay in one lane or chase trends. I’m focused on making timeless music, and for me that means pushing myself creatively. So whether it’s a sexy drill track like ‘Chanclas’, a gritty Spanglish trap collab like ‘Mirame’ with Rah Swish, or a stadium anthem like ‘All On The Floor’, every record has to feel fresh, personal, and true to who I am. That’s how I navigate these genres—by staying rooted in my story, my culture, and my ear.
You received an early co-sign from UK legend Big Narstie. Can you tell us about that experience and how it felt to get recognition from the UK Hip Hop scene?
That Big Narstie co-sign meant a lot. Big Narstie really showed me a lot of love and gave me a lot of game as an independent artist since he’s independent as well and is a legend. That’s really my dawg. We kicked it in the studio, we talked a bunch on WhatsApp, and he’s given me jewels. When I got to the UK Narstie hit me on WhatsApp and was like, “Yo, I got a song with Ed Sheeran and Papoose, and I want you to be in the music video.”
Big Narstie shows a lot of love. He was even telling Papoose how “MRG, that kid is nice, he’s next up outta New York City.” Shout out my dawg Big Narstie. Without the UK influence, I would have never done Drill music. I never liked New York Drill music for the most part—I really appreciated UK Drill music.
Without the UK Drill influence, I never would have made ‘Money Come’, ‘Cap SZN’, and ‘Top Boy’—all records that really changed my life. The co-sign from Big Narstie was a reminder to keep being myself, keep experimenting, and not box myself in. That early UK love definitely planted a seed. I ended up doing a headline show in London later, and that moment with Big Narstie was part of what made it all possible.
Your track ‘Money Come’ gained significant traction after DJ Enuff played it on HOT 97, and Timbaland also co-signed ‘Cap SZN’. How did it feel to receive such strong support from these iconic figures in the US Hip Hop scene?
Honestly, it felt like the universe confirming what I already knew. I’ve always seen myself going down as one of the greats—I just needed the world to catch up. So when DJ Enuff played ‘Money Come’ on HOT 97, that wasn’t luck—that was alignment. That’s one of the most respected DJs in the game, spinning my record on the biggest station in New York. That’s real validation.
Then Timbaland co-signing ‘Cap SZN’? That’s different. That’s not just anyone—that’s one of the greatest producers to ever touch music. When a legend like Tim taps in, it’s not just exciting—it’s affirming. It means I’m living the reality I always saw for myself. These weren’t random moments—they were signals. Proof that when you stay locked in and true to yourself, the real ones recognize it. I’m not surprised—but I’m mad grateful. And I’m just getting started.
The album features artists like Rah Swish and Geezly. What was the collaborative process like, and what do you look for in artists you choose to work with?
With Rah Swish, that collaboration is special. I already had the record demo’d out in my bedroom, and we ended up making it in L.A during BET Awards Weekend. I played him the demo in the studio, and he literally knocked out the verse in like 20 minutes. That man is a real rapper, not just a Drill rapper. He’s a rapper’s rapper; he really does this.
With Geezly, that one came together in a dope way. I played the demo of ‘Brujeria’ on IG Live, and she ended up telling her manager she wanted to be on that record. What’s crazy is—I actually made the song with her in mind. So when she reached out, it felt like the universe aligned it perfectly. We’re both fans of each other’s music, so it was only right. That type of mutual respect always makes the collaboration stronger.
Tracks like ‘All On Me (Gambling Addict)’ showcase a raw and introspective side. How important is vulnerability in your songwriting, and what do you hope listeners take away from such personal tracks?
Vulnerability is one of the most important parts of my music. A track like ‘All On Me (Gambling Addict)’ came from a place where I really felt the weight of everything. Sometimes I really do feel like folding—like giving up would be easier. But I keep risking it all because I believe in what I’m building. That song isn’t about gambling in the literal sense—it’s about the emotional toll of betting on yourself over and over when nothing is guaranteed.
It’s about waking up every day and choosing to stay in the fight, even when your faith is low, your pockets are tight, and the people around you don’t fully understand the pressure you’re under. I want listeners to hear that and know it’s okay to feel overwhelmed, but you don’t have to quit. I’m still here pushing through it, and if you relate to that track, just know I made it for people like us—the ones who keep showing up even when it feels like everything’s on the line.
That’s the kind of vulnerability I stand on. It’s not weakness—it’s honesty. And I think that’s what makes the music hit harder.
You’ve already amassed millions of streams and gained support from major New York radio stations. What are your aspirations for this album in terms of reaching a wider global audience, including the UK scene?
I’ve been blessed to get millions of streams and real love from New York radio, but I’ve always seen the vision as global. This album is a statement—I’m not just trying to be big in my city, I plan on being one of the biggest artists in the world. The UK has shown me love early on, and I definitely want to build on that. I already had a headline show out there, and I’m hungry to do a bigger and better one.
Long-term, I’d love to hit that Wireless Festival stage. That’s a major goal for me. I respect what the UK scene has built—it’s its own movement with its own sound and energy. This album is just the beginning. I want people across the globe—from Queens to London to wherever—to feel like my music speaks their language, even when it switches between English and Spanish. I’m here to bridge cultures, build something timeless, and to be legendary.
You first went viral with a theme song for Villanova’s NCAA championship run. How did that early success influence your decision to pursue music more seriously, and what did you learn from that experience?
That moment was definitely a turning point for me. When I dropped the Villanova theme song and it went viral during the NCAA championship run, I saw firsthand what happens when your music connects with a moment. The whole school was playing it, ESPN picked it up, the energy was electric—and I realised, “yo, this is bigger than just me rapping in my dorm room.”
That early success gave me a taste of what this could be if I really locked in. It wasn’t just the views or the hype—it was the impact. People were chanting the lyrics at games, DM’ing me like I was already famous, and I felt what it was like to create something that brought people together.
Looking ahead, with ‘It’s MRG Not Mr. G now out, what’s next for you? Are there any specific goals you’re aiming for, and what can your growing fanbase in the UK and beyond anticipate?
Now that ‘It’s MRG Not Mr. G’ is out, I feel like the real journey’s just beginning. I’m proud of the project, but I’m even hungrier for what’s next. One of my biggest goals is to keep expanding globally, especially in the UK. The energy out there is different, and the love I’ve received already has been real.
I definitely want to run back to another headline show in London and eventually touch that Wireless Festival stage—that’s been a dream of mine for a minute. Collab-wise, I’d love to work with artists like WeWantWraiths, French the Kid, and Central Cee. They each blend melody, pain, and storytelling in a way that really aligns with what I do, especially with my Spanglish style and the emotion I bring into my records.
I got a lot of respect for them and for the UK scene as a whole—it’s its own movement, and I want to tap in the right way. For my fanbase—whether you’re from Queens, the UK, or anywhere in between—you can expect more music, more storytelling, and more moments. I’m not chasing clout—I’m building legacy. We just getting started.
