Why HBO Max’s Teejayx6 Documentary Is a Scam in Itself

Pitchfork writer Alphonse Pierre’s rap column covers songs, mixtapes, albums, Instagram freestyles, memes, weird tweets, fashion trends—and anything else that catches his attention.

A recap of the extremely dumb Teejayx6 documentary

In its final episode, HBO Max’s 10-part anthology series Generation Hustle spends an entire 45 minutes following Teejayx6, the Detroit teenager infamous for breaking down credit card and VPN scams in his raps. The episode is called “A Scam With a Beat,” and it starts out with Teejay being presented as if he’s some mastermind anime villain: He sits in the shadows with his hands folded and laughs maniacally. There are clips of him walking through empty streets with a laptop in his hand and clicking his heels like he’s the Joker. “Everytime I make some free money it just makes me want to do it again,” says Teejay in one scene soundtracked by generic orchestral music, as he’s seen typing on a computer that is clearly dead. This introduction does a good job of matching Teejay’s ridiculousness, though as the documentary moves on it becomes obvious that there’s not much reason for its existence (other than to capitalize on the current true-crime boom).

The filmmakers at least have a sense of humor, though I’m not sure they realize what’s actually funny about Teejay’s caricature. They think it’s hilarious to paint him as a devious yet naive scammer, but he flips the joke on them: Everything that comes out of his mouth is potentially bullshit, but they take it fairly seriously. Even when the British-sounding interviewer asks him to break down a few scams, they are insanely basic: He talks about catfishing as a girl on Instagram and getting horny guys to send him money, and paying celebrities like Blac Chyna to repost his fake business so people think it’s legit. As he divulges these “secrets,” warnings flash across the screen begging you not to try this at home, as if he’s giving you a step-by-step tutorial to hack into the Pentagon’s servers.

Eventually, the doc gets into his background, though it’s pretty slim since he’s only 19 and hasn’t really done a whole lot. Scamming is portrayed as a family business that he eagerly adopted from his father. Then, his aunt shows up, and she’s this sweet lady who scrapbooks. I suppose she’s there to humanize Teejayx6 or whatever, but her folksiness makes it seem like she’s an actress hired by the producers.

Next, they introduce us to his team. Yaasiel Davis is the VP of A&R at Atlantic Records who signed him, and he basically spends the entirety of the episode revealing that his job consists of staring at spreadsheets all day. Teejay’s manager Propane tells us legitimately 10 times how much he thought Teejay’s music sucked, but decided to manage him anyway.

The doc is pretty dismissive toward Teejay’s music and Detroit rap as a whole. They want us to be surprised that the snippets they play of “Swipe Story” and “Dark Web” got someone a record deal. And it doesn’t feel like they’re solely clowning the unhinged decision to put self-incriminating scam tutorials on wax—they also want us to believe that the flows, deliveries, and beats stink. But the thing is these tracks do not stink at all! They’re some of the most fun and exciting rap songs to come out of this thriving scene in the last few years.

The energy in this dragging documentary is spiked by Kasher Quon, the Detroit rapper who mentored Teejay in scamming and collaborated with him on the instant Motor City classic “Dynamic Duo.” As he does an interview while sitting on the hood of a Land Rover, it seems like he’s been anticipating this moment for a while. During his screen time Kasher records a Instagram story, clues the British interviewer in on a VPN scam, and keeps reminding her that he’s the biggest rapper in Detroit—which is a lie, but it’s clear they know nothing about Detroit rap, so he might as well.

Then a former Detroit-based FBI agent shows up. This guy looks like a broken man who has seen some shit, but then again he might just be an actor who studied clips of Woody Harrelson on True Detective. Let’s call him Fake Woody. Well, Fake Woody is all mad about scamming, or maybe he just lost his kid’s college savings betting on the Pistons. Regardless, he slams his fists and pounds a cup of coffee that probably has a splash of booze in it, all while mumbling cryptic statements like, “It’s only a matter of time.” Apparently, Fake Woody does not approve of catfishing schemes.

At the end of the doc, Teejay stares into a broken mirror for a melodramatic monologue soundtracked by Mozart. “I can’t stop to be honest,” he says. “It’s just free money just waiting.” Real Matt Damon-in-the-scammer-classic-The Talented Mr. Ripley energy!

The British lady asks him, “How does it feel to have a record deal?” A cackling Teejay responds, “I scammed the record label, I put a fake signature on the contract.” The sweeping music picks up as if he just dropped a pipe bomb, but I really did not care. It’s followed by the screen going black and then the following message appears: “Blac Chyna did not respond to our requests for comment on the scam that targeted her social media followers.” That was like 20 minutes ago, and I did not really care that much about that either! Again, there was no point to any of this, but at least we get this screenshot:

Polo G’s not-so-subtle “Rapstar” is now the No. 1 song in the country. Which is cool, even if the track lacks the somber yet colorful production and vivid storytelling that made 2019’s Die a Legend such a compelling debut. Regardless, most of my annoyance is with the music video, which is made up of a bunch of scenes engineered to be reposted on Instagram rap blogs with the captions, “What you think?” or “Thoughts?” But the video made me come up with a few burning questions of my own...

Einer Bankz is the dude who strums the ukulele on those clips of rappers performing acoustic versions of their songs. They’re all pretty bad, and I don’t know a single person who enjoys them. If you want to know why “Rapstar” sounds like a lab-made Polo G song, it likely starts with the fact that Einer made the beat. To make it even worse, the video opens with a shot of his ukelele and his face. I came here for Polo G, not Einer Bankz!

Either The Queen’s Gambit didn’t make me the expert on chess that I think I am, or Polo G needs better competition. Hardly any of the pieces have been touched. There’s no way this is any fun.

Yes.

I am all for Polo G putting an end to his Tupac bit. “I’m Tupac rebirthed,” he raps on the track, while dressed in all denim and a white bandana tied around his head, just like Pac. If Polo G insists on pretending to be someone from the past he should pick someone a little more obscure. Let’s see him channel Lil Cease in the “Crush on You” video!

Polo G makes being a rap star sound miserable. According to this song and video, he has to spend all of his money buying his friends BMWs. He can only drink champagne, which sucks, because you just know he wants a glass of Hi-C Orange sometimes. He’s hounded by the paparazzi. He has to play chess with someone who has absolutely no idea how to play chess. Worst of all, his record label forces him to hang out with a ukulele player. This video is a cautionary tale to anyone with dreams of rap stardom.

Lisha G: “Real”

South Carolina’s Lisha G likes to rap over blown-out beats that could have once landed on an early Raider Klan mixtape, and “Real” is no different. Producer Splashmane’s twinkling melody sounds like it could backdrop the part of a ’80s slasher movie where the terrified teen has no idea that they’ll soon be fighting for their life, and the drums would probably make my room shake if I had a proper subwoofer. It’s perfectly suited for Lisha’s spellbinding vocals: “If you scared go to church, don’t be thinking that you real,” she raps amid the terror.

They need to hit the studio and lay this down for real

Sample flip of the week: A Lau’s “Royce” beat

The all-time pinnacle of bachata flips can be heard on Max B’s 2006 track “We Be on Our Shit,” which rewired the rule-breaking Dominican group Aventura’s “Todavia Me Amas.” A Lau’s sample flip of Prince Royce’s “Corazon Sin Cara” is not in the same league, but it still works extremely well. What’s disappointing is that it was given to the slightly uninteresting Slayter and ABG Neal. At least Neal is appreciative: “I’ma pull up in the Rolls Royce/You get locked and sing like Prince Royce,” he raps. But really, the track made my mind race through all the pieces of bachata hits I would like to see A Lau incorporate into his next flip. Maybe the bongo drums on Aventura’s “Obsesion” or the smooth guitar on Xtreme’s “Te Extrano”...

Lil Maru: “Issues”

San Diego’s Lil Maru sounds like he’s singing through a roll of paper towels. His voice has a slight echo, but it sounds natural. This is not exactly unheard of, especially out West, and on “Issues” you hear traces of Yhung T.O., Aflacko, and 03 Greedo in the way he uses this chilly melody to weave between street politics, painful reflections, and not-so-romantic romance. He’s not exactly a lyrical mastermind—“I used to be broke, ghetto baby out the mud/When I’m in my feelings I’m just rollin’ up the bud,” he stoically sings—but the song is elevated by bouncy West Coast production and the smoothness of his delivery.

KD has heard Michigan Boy Boat

We need a livestream of KD experiencing Rio Da Yung OG mixtapes for the first time.

Ka$hdami: “Look N the Mirror”

The plugg sound is flourishing right now. Originally founded by producers like MexikoDro and StoopidXool, it is defined by lush melodies and choppy drums. The style has influenced a whole new wave of rappers and producers, and one of those happens to be the DMV-based tough talker Ka$hdami. On “Look N the Mirror,” which could be his breakout single, he puts a fresh spin on both the plugg sound and his local street rap scene. Like DMV rappers Xanman and Baby Fifty, Ka$hdami has an aggressive, no nonsense flow. Yet instead of gliding on the spare, nightmarish production synonymous with his region, he chooses beats that are soft and melodic. This type of twist isn’t just keeping plugg alive; it’s what makes it thrive.