The Story of Skeese: Buffalo Rapper Jae Skeese Talks Come Up, Fatherhood, Signing to Conway the Machine’s Drumwork Music Group, Art and Upcoming Projects.

This article is dedicated to the memory of Jarred Weeze Barker.

Always in our Hearts.

. . .

Jae Skeese is a rapper’s rapper; he’s garnered a cult following within his hometown of Buffalo, NY (and worldwide), serving up soliloquies that span decades of Rap science, allusions, samples, and allegories—a real student of the game. I have been following Jae Skeese since I was a freshman in high school during the second Golden Age of Hip-Hop: the Blog Era. During this time, Jae Skeese was dropping projects mainly on Soundcloud and Bandcamp; classics like W.A.C.K., Negative Nothing, and The Light Grey Tape, just to name a few. I remember this time quite vividly as I, too, was an aspiring rapper with Grammy dreams around this same period, and it was Skeese whom I looked to for local inspiration on many occasions. 

Flash forward to the present day, and the hard work for Skeese has paid off exponentially. But one thing that he wants people to know, fans and naysayers alike, is that his success didn’t happen overnight—this was a series of calculated moves followed by sheer faith. Oh, and extreme and ever-growing control over the English language.

This is is the origin story of Buffalo, NY rapper Jae Skeese.

*For context, the following conversation took place a couple months ago*

Marc: Yo, what’s good, bro. How are you doing?

Jae Skeese: Yo, Yo. What’s going on with you, dawg?

M: Man, can’t complain, can’t complain. I was actually up late yesterday writing, but I gotta start going to bed on time (laughs).

J.S.: (laughing) For a fact. I was up late in the studio last night, too. And I had to be up early. Man, I got like four interviews today.

M: Oh, shit. 

J.S.: Yeahhh, it’s crazy. You’re actually the first one of the day, so you’re definitely setting the tempo, but you know I’m blessed; this is what I prayed for, so I ain’t gon’ complain about it.

M: That’s a fact. From there, though, let’s jump right in. So, tell me about the inception of this rap shit for you. What is your Hip-Hop origin story?

J.S.: Starting out, I really started learning how to write bars when I was ten years old with my best friend. Both of our dads had died when we were really young; my dad passed when I was ten, and his dad passed when he was like eight or nine. So, this was something we were doing, you know, he had a couple of uncles who rapped as a group called the J Villains; they were from Buffalo and had a whole studio over on Erb off of Delavan. Rapping was one of those things we would do when we would hang out, and it basically started from my friend rapping to get over his father’s passing, and his uncles would hang out with us, assisting us with getting better at the craft. And it was also hanging with my man Dre and his cousin Ronald which led us to start a group called the Bucks. From there, we did a couple of shows; I believe I did my first show when I was thirteen. But with the Bucks, we had our own website, so we really were getting it out of the mud from day one. 

M: Damn, super humble beginnings in that. And so, from there, what became the catalyst for you to really take your craft and run with it? What was the moment or series of events that sparked it off for you?

J.S.: One of the main catalysts for this whole thing was one of the producers we were working with; his name was Nam, ended up moving to Atlanta due to having some opportunities out there. But when he dipped, he ended up taking all the music we did with him, so I was left with a finalized demo and notebooks of raps which ended up giving us a fresh start. After that, I began taking my raps to another level as I started battling around the way. And my man Weeze, shoutout my man Weeze by the way, he would bring me over when he lived on Beverly, and he would bring me around niggas and be like “Y’all ain’t fucking with my man” (laughs). My other best friend Julian, his older brother Mike rapped, too, and we battled up at Summer-Best station after school back when I attended City Honors. When I turned 16/17, I started hanging around Billie Esco, who was going by Bizzy at the time; he introduced me to Camouflage Monk, who has an older brother named Alumni and another dude by the name of Black Snipe who had a record label called Unlimited Records. 

So, I was fucking with them, and we were doing freestyles, projects, and shit, and from there, we became the collective known as F1rst Class. We kinda branched off and did our own thing, which was the plan from the jump, but the full roster includes me, Camouflage Monk, Billie Esco, Drop Dead, Mitch Arizona, Og Sole, Grape Juice, who actually is a photographer based in N.Y.C. Biz (Billie Esco) and I actually put out a project, it was called Highly-Anticipated, you know, back when Myspace was around. The response was dope, and from there, we started to grow as a unit but also individually. And as we all grew, I felt it was time for me to grow as a young man, so I ended up moving out of my mom’s crib and [F1rst Class] ended up getting a crib together, and we called it the Ocho. You talk to anybody who’s my age—I’m 35,—and they’ll tell you Ocho was the illest house. It was a four-bedroom apartment, and nobody lived upstairs, so we used to have parties every day. All throughout that year of us all living in that house, I would be recording music in my closet. I would occasionally pop out and party, but at the same time, I was so focused on this rap shit. Actually, there’s a video on Youtube from this period, the video features G5-GI and me, and the song is called “Grinding. ” If you look at that video, you’ll see all of us. But that was really like the start of everything that you see now. So, going back to your initial question of what was the catalyst for this whole shit, I ended up dropping my first solo mixtape in 2010 called W.A.C.K. (Women, Alcohol, Cash and Kicks) and the response from that...man, it was over. That project set it off for me in Buffalo. It defined who I was at the time as an artist and a lyricist. And actually, I had gotten some blog coverage from that tape; I ended up opening up for Wale, Monica, and this ill-ass Go-Go Band during Winston Salem State’s Fall Fest. It was also around this time that I had the first glimpse of my future like I could really make this shit happen. From there, I gave em Negative Nothing, The Light Grey Tape, and so on. Then it was In Search of Symmetry, shoutout Mitch Arizona; he produced a couple of beats on there, but In Search of Symmetry was a big step because it wasn’t a mixtape. It was a street album, an album full of original beats and original songs as opposed to freestyles. 

M: You mentioned earlier the idea of having that realization that you could actually make this a full-time job. There clearly was a moment where you actually didn’t feel rapping was going to pan out; how often did that thought arise?

J.S.: Oh, man. It’s crazy you mentioned that because that’s exactly where the next part of the story would lead to, in a way. So, even though the response from ISOS was fantastic, I just felt like the rap shit really wasn’t gon work out. I gave it all this time, I did shows, so much money spent. I did everything imaginable, but honestly, I didn’t even do anything yet. It was at this time I decided I would move to Syracuse and throughout the whole time with me chasing this dream of rapping, I was always working a full-time job in retail, sneakers specifically. I never gave music my all. I never gave it all my attention. I move to Syracuse to advance my little bullshit career in retail and shit. I’m depressed. It’s 2015 around this time, I’m still rapping and dropping projects, but my main focus is trying to survive with this job out in ‘Cuse. Around this time, I dropped a project called Thirteen, and the next year, I did a project called Frank Reich. During this period, the town’s music scene [Buffalo] was starting to bubble; the Anti-Venue tour made a lot of people pay attention. The shit hit me like, “Damn, I’m a vet in this shit.” I’m talking 2010 vet, and I’m still performing for like five people with all my heart. I’m doing this shit hoping and praying someone listens to me, or the right ear listens to me. And don’t get it twisted; in between all this shit, I’m having convos with execs like the homie Shawn Barron. He’s actually from Buffalo, and he’s an exec over at Atlantic Records. He ended up reaching out to me, and I’m connecting dots, but it’s tough because I’m from Buffalo, you know what I’m saying? I’m getting radio play up here, Big Rob is fucking with me, I’m going to New Era, and I’m doing shows and ciphers at the flagship store before anybody was doing that, but it just wasn’t clicking, man. That’s why I had to leave Buffalo and head to Syracuse. During 2016 I also had my daughter Naas, named after my favorite rapper Nas but I added another “a” just to make it a bit feminine. It’s wild because she was the one who gave me that strength, that inspiration to keep going with this rap shit. I can’t quit now. But it was hard, dawg. I really couldn’t do music; I had my full-time job, I had a brand new baby, a girl that was stressing me out, and I had to get a whole new job overnight to support the baby and me. I couldn’t even rap. I’m talking about working 9-7 pm at one job and then going to my other job at 10 pm-6 am, and in the middle of all this, I’m trying to write these raps. I was really in the worst state of mind ever. I wound up coming back to Buffalo towards the end of 2017 and me and my daughter’s mom ended up splitting due to the relationship being a bit toxic. We’re good now, but it was just at that time it wasn’t working. But before I left ‘Cuse, I recorded this track called the “Reintroduction of Jae Skeese,” and it was released on Billie Esco’s tape called Cafe. But when I recorded that, Esco was like, “Yo, you just gotta see how we’re really moving in Buffalo right now.” And when the tape had released, the reception to that tape and song was crazy; that shit brought me back to life. 

M: Amazing, real crazy how things just work themselves out when you keep pushing forward. Then, a couple of years later, and boom, you’re signed to Conway the Machine’s Drumwork Music Group . With everything that you’ve told me so far, it seems like that shouldn’t have happened as the odds were forever stacked against you, yet it did. Walk me through that series of events. 

J.S.: Once I got back to Buffalo, I decided that I wanted to do a tape. I saw the response, and I saw the movement in Buffalo. The steam, the scene was picking up, and I was like, “Let’s do a tape.” That tape ended up becoming Subjective Humility. I remember I had nine solid songs for the tape, and I felt super confident in it. But then Mitch Arizona, who produced the whole tape, sent me another beat. When he sent the beat to me, I was in Orlando on a trip with my job and from the moment I heard that joint I knew exactly what I wanted to say and the first couple bars came to me instantly: “I don’t want congratulations when I make it.” And that shit was crazy, bro. Shortly after that, COVID happened, and my job ended up closing up and shit. Then that summer, the George Floyd shit happened, and the store was hit in Buffalo from looters and what not. Two weeks later, my job had us go back to the store, and they hadn’t cleaned up anything and expected us to do it. On top of that, I was held up at gunpoint a couple of months before that before we were closed down, and I was on high alert, so I decided to ask my boss for security. They basically said no, and I ended up finally quitting that job. But dawg, I kid you not, two days after I quit, which was June 10th because I quit on June 8th, I got an inbox from Conway saying that he wanted to work with me. Now I think it’s just a feature or something like that cuz the message that he sent was, “I think it’s time, King.” So, I’m gassed (laughs) like “I’m down to do a song, I got beats, what you wanna do?” But he replied saying “Nah, I ain’t talking bout no song, I’m bouta start this label, and I’m tryna fuck with you, what’s up?” And I ain’t even tell no one this story yet, so you getting first dibs on this story for real. Nah, but that shit was crazy, but what is crazier is that I talked to Conway that one day in June, and I didn’t talk to him again until September of that same year. 

So, in between this duration of time, I’m not about to get complacent, so I start going full throttle with my art shit. I’m an actual artist as well as a rapper, so I’m doing pop-up shops, I did the U-Haul art gallery joint, and I dropped another project called Asphalt Calligraphy, and I’m sending him invites on Facebook to all of this, but he’s not responding. He’s not even looking at the messages. At this point, I’m like, “Alright, if he hit me back, he hit me back. If not, then whatever, I still gotta keep this shit going on my own.” Billie Esco hits me the day before From King to a God came out, and he says, “Yo, I just was talking to Conway’s assistant, and he wants you to pull to his crib and listen to the album when it drops tonight.” Boom, so we do that, and then as the night comes to a close, Conway pulls me to the side, and he’s like, “Yo, I’m still fucking with you, I just had to take care of some business, but what I want you to do is link with my assistant, and I want you to start pulling up to my crib and start recording.” He said that to me and 7xve the Genius. So there were a few weeks where we were just pulling up to his crib and just writing, recording, and I’m shaken as hell. This is Conway, dawg! This nigga made it out of the town; this felt like finally getting to the league when M.J. was playing, and you get drafted to the Bulls--like that! Anyways, that was all throughout September of 2020. Then October rolls around, and it was a random ass Saturday night. Conway’s assistant hits me up, and he goes, “Yo, I don’t know what you got going on but me and Conway out in N.Y.C. If you not doing nothing, if you can get here then pull up!” And so I’m like “Oh hell nah, this is a test, I’m there.” I hit 7xve and was like, “Yo did you get that text?” and she said “Hell yeah,” so we dipped up to N.Y.C. Monday morning. We got there, and the address was to a recording studio called the Cutting Room near Times Square. We walk in, and there are Cardi B plaques, Mos Def plaques, bruh, they had a plaque for Shrek in there (laughs); it’s all types of history in here. As we walk further in, we finally see Conway, and he’s recording some fire in the biggest room there. He comes out, and he’s like, “Yo, I’m glad y’all came. Had y’all not came, this would’ve told me everything that I needed to know.” And I just looked over at 7xve like, “See, I told you this was a test” (laughs).

M: Oh shit! This is crazy, so walk me through it; how did you feel about all of this and who were some of the illest artists/people you got to see during this pop-up recording session? 

J.S.: Dawg, I was taken there (laughs). I was definitely taken to a place in my mind where I was like, “Alright, this is what I worked for, let’s get it.” And it was crazier because as I had this thought, Conway turned to us and was like, “Alright, well I’m done with my shit, y’all got anything y’all trying to record?” So, I went ahead and wrote some shit, recorded it, 7xve wrote some shit, recorded it, and then we all did a song together, too. Meanwhile, we got crazy industry figures coming into the studio; I saw Mal, Smoke DZA, KaySlay, B-Dot. Once the studio was packed out with everyone and we were done recording, Conway played his new album for everybody. After that, Conway goes, “Well shit, these some artists that I fuck with from the town. Yo, Skeese, where that song you just recorded? Play that shit for these niggas.” Bro, I can’t even begin to describe the feeling I felt when that shit happened; feel me? It was a moment of validation that I was on the right path for sure. I was taken there—absolutely crazy experience. 

M: That’s some wild shit. You are definitely my O.G., but I’m proud of you, dawg, you making the city proud for sure! So, at any point during this trip, were you officially signed to Conway’s DrumWork Music Group? And did he ever tell y’all the why and how behind Drumwork?

J.S.: Thank you, man, thank you. Alright, so we ended up staying there based on the reception to our new shit that we made there and really off of our hunger for this. Conway said this, and you can even ask him yourself, but Drumwork the record label only started because we came out to N.Y.C. That was the whole purpose of that trip. The fact that we wanted this shit more than anything and that we were willing to do whatever to get this shit done, that’s how and why he created Drumwork---because of my and 7xve’s hunger. That shit still takes me there when I talk about it now. So he said to us like, “Man, y’all came here on a whim not knowing what’s happening. But, y’all came here on a whim and y’all leaving with record deals” I put that on my daughter he said that shit. So, how did I feel? For one, I felt speechless, and that was instantly followed by the thought of “Well, is this official? Is this for real?” One thing I learned being around this industry for so long is that nothing is official until that ink dries. Until your name is located on that dotted line, nothing is for real. You know, they’re just words right now; up until I signed my deal, which was a couple of weeks ago, I still had that same feeling. Dawg, I met Noreaga on Drink Champs; I performed live on Tidal, man, but is this shit with Conway for real? I had so many people promise me opportunities, and none of that shit transpired. So, at this point, it’s like show and prove for me; I judge by the actions not by what you say. But to answer your question, nah, we didn’t get signed during the trip, but he gave us his word that it would happen. 

M: That’s a fact. So you didn’t officially sign your deal until a couple weeks ago? 

J.S.: Yeah, so the actual deal was signed a couple weeks ago and Conway was moving off of faith and love. He put niggas in certain positions where it’s like he was doing for us because he fucked with us, and a lot of this shit that he did, he had no obligation to do it. But Conway is such a good dude, and I’m not saying that because he gave me the opportunity, but that nigga is a good-hearted person. Before June, I had never had a conversation that lasted two minutes with Conway because he’s not that type of person, but when you really sit down, and if he fucks with you, he would give you the shirt off his back. So, that’s where we really at with it now. Since that N.Y.C. trip, it’s been Drumwork. And all of that was the short version of my Hip-Hop story. I’m here now.

M: Thank you for that, bro. This was a hell of a story (laughs). I wanted to allow you to tell your story without getting too off-topic, so I hope that we really painted that picture of your come-up. With that being said, I wanted to move on to some of your upcoming projects and business ventures. What have you been working on, and when can we expect to see/hear these pieces of art?

J.S.: Bet. So, going back in time a bit, B.N.B.L.Y.C. (Brown, not Black, Live Your Creed) came about in late 2017 before I came back to Buffalo. My daughter’s mother and I were beefing and weren’t seeing eye to eye on a lot of things, and I wasn’t making music at the time. I had a guy out there who I made music with out in Syracuse, and we would be in the studio from time to time, but it wasn’t anything serious. So, I needed an outlet. “Brown, not Black,” that’s the first part of it; it was an idea that I had since I was about seven years old. I would wake up and look down at my hands, and I noticed I’m not Black; I’m Brown. It’s funny because I used to ask my parents questions like this, and they would be like, “You have such a smart mouth,” and I used to respond like, “Why would I want to have a dumb mouth?” (laughs), but that was always one of those thoughts that I had. Anyway, I’m sitting here...I think I had just got done arguing with my daughter’s mother or something, feeling upset, and then I had this random thought like, “What if I put Brown not Black on the back of a jacket or something? How would people react to that?” Seeing that I’m technically called Black, how would people react to that very general statement? What would they even think about it? Because it’s a very general statement, “Brown not Black,” and I’m not saying that I’m a Brown person, not a Black person or Black people are better than white people. No, I’m not saying that. It literally just says “Brown, not Black.” So one day, I went to Michael’s, got some paint, copped a Calvin Klein jean jacket, and threw that shit on the back to see what happens. The design was three lines inspired by Blueprint 3, and then I put “Brown, not Black” on those three lines. Now, I wasn’t sure if the paint shit was gonna actually look good because I failed every art class I ever took, but my penmanship and graffiti had always been dope, so I knew that would at least look good. I also got some oil markers, again some bullshit because you’re not supposed to put oil on cotton, but I was just trying whatever to bring intrigue to the artistic design. I’m the type of dude who needs to bring intrigue to the art, something that’s gonna draw people in like “Yo, what is that?”Anyhow, the “Live Your Creed” aspect of the brand came by way of my boy Jared who put me onto this Langston Hughes poem called “Live Your Creed,” and he told me he wanted me to read and take something from it. I learned from reading it that you’re judged by your actions and not your words, which is something that my mom had always preached to me growing up. 

So, boom, I completed the first jacket, and I rocked it to Destiny, U.S.A. Mall. I rocked it to work one day. I believe I had about six people come up to me and be like, “Yo, what does your jacket mean?” and it really hit me when this sixty-year-old white lady asked me, “What is the significance of your jacket? What does Brown not Black mean?” To me, it was at that moment where I was like, “Yeah, maybe I got something here.” And nah, it may not be the most visually appealing form of wearable art, but it’s an idea that creates an idea. It creates a question. And my brand motto became “Become Apart of the Conversation” because when you see it, it invites you to question things that you have always accepted. From there, I went ahead and created more pieces and posted them joints on my Snapchat, and mad heads are hitting me up on there asking for pieces and prices (laughs). So, I got hella confident, and I told my man that I was doing music out there in Syracuse all about the brand and everything, and he turned around and dismissed it. Flash forward, I move back to Buffalo, and I was doing my jackets and shit, and it had the same impact. People saw the wearable art and started asking what it was and began looking into buying it. I then went ahead and donated some of my jackets to Goodwill and whatnot, so now you see homeless people wearing the gear, and there are people downtown Buffalo wearing the gear. University Plaza, all over Buffalo, feel me. See, I built the buzz around my brand in a unique way, and it did some numbers, but people didn’t know what it was about, and some still don’t know what it’s about because I’m really taking my time with just rolling out the idea. Actually, this will be my fourth year doing it but really what it is...again, it’s wearable art, but now I have my own brand of denim jackets. I don’t use Levi or Calvin Klein jackets anymore; I have my own brandnow : B.N.B.L.Y.C. denim jackets. I also do these spray drip hoodies right now as well; them shits is fire too. And then with the music, I have a project that I’ve been working on called Abolished Uncertainties that I recorded in N.Y.C. during that trip I spoke with you about. It’s not done yet; see what happened was we were gonna go in one direction with Drumwork, and we were aspiring to drop this project in January of this year, but it didn’t make sense. We just have to get things in check to make it make sense so that way when we do drop, it’ll have a maximum impact. But we do have some things lined up; the project will definitely be coming this year, my debut Drumwork joint. Lemme stop there because I ain’t trying to say something that I shouldn’t say (laughs), but we do got some shit lined up. You’ll definitely get a project from me this year, for sure.

M: Oh, this debut joint is about to be a banger, I’m already knowing. I know the people, just like myself, are very excited to get a brand new project from you, especially now that you’re officially signed to Drumwork Music Group. Boys are on a different level with it now. And honestly, congrats on the clothing brand as well; Ima definitely need one of those jackets for sure! (laughs). But one last question, you mentioned earlier in the interview that you are a dad. Can you tell me how being a father impacts you not just as an artist but as a man? How does having a child cater to the hunger of Jae Skeese?

J.S.: I start off by saying Naas is my everything. Naas is the most beautiful thing I’ll ever make; there isn’t a song or anything that I could make that would be better. I feel like a lot of the shortcomings that I saw in my dad just as a father—if I see somebody my age with their dad walking through Tops or something, I would still feel a way because I never have that. I won’t have that, I can’t have that. That was something that I always needed growing up, and now I’m so grateful that I can do that for my daughter. I’m so proud that I’m in the right state of mind so that way I can guide her to where she needs to go as she gets older and becomes whatever it is that she wants to become in her life. Man, Naas is such a light. She’s so smart and beautiful, man., She’s everything. Look, I thought I was legit done making music when I moved to Syracuse, but when I found out my daughter’s mom was pregnant, I immediately thought “Yo its really over for music. When I found out she was pregnant, it was September, and then October came. I slid to N.Y. for a Big Krit concert. Krit is one of my favorite artists so I had to see him in concert. And this is right after Cadillactica came out; he was performing in N.Y. with Smoke D.Z.A. Maybe it was a couple of years after Cadillactica came out, but he was still performing that project. The tickets I bought allowed me to meet him as well, so after the show, I went upstairs to meet him. It was maybe a line of 150 people waiting to meet him, but I waited; I was legit the last person in line, dawg. But, when I got my chance to meet him, I told him I didn’t want a picture or anything; I just wanted a chance to rap for him.

He told me to give my phone to his security guard, and he would have him record it for me. That shit was really wild, but after it happened I said, “Man, this was really gon’ be the last time that I really do some shit like this because I’m about to have my daughter.” Yet, when she came, she gave me the drive to want to go harder. I couldn’t stop now. Naas means the world to me, so I told myself I would use rap to give her the world. You know, I got a video of my daughter watching me perform on T.V. for Tidal. My daughter’s mother was recording her from behind her, so you can see her sitting right in front of the tv hype as hell. And she was just sitting there watching me. I got the video the day after the Tidal show, I’ll never forget we were in Atlanta, and I had to go out to the truck, but I sat there and watched that video and cried my eyes out. 

M: That’s real as fuck. That’s super real. A dad’s love is unmatched, and I’m not a dad myself, but damn I felt every word you said about your daughter. I just want to applaud you for that and for creating a beautiful relationship with your daughter. That’s real. I appreciate you for speaking with me, bro; this was an impeccable origin story. Is there anything else you want the people to know before we sign off?

J.S.: No doubt, bro. I just want to speak to our people in Buffalo. If you want something, go get that shit. I know it’s easier said than done especially coming from where we come from, but it can happen. It’s just that you don’t have a lot of that here. You might see a nigga with a barbershop or someone who got a little Benz and shit, but what does that count for in the long run? It’s like the dreams of doing more are nonexistent here, and I’m one of those people who have and will continue to have the desire to do more because I know there are people in Buffalo who have the potential, and they want that shit too. Like, bruh, I ain’t gon hold you; a lot of people tell me in the last few months that I’m just an inspiration and motivation for them. They told me they needed my story to be able to do what they needed to do. And it’s not just Buffalo; I get DMs from people in Egypt and Denmark, you feel me? But, it’s very important that people from our city get to hear and see my story so that way they feel like they can do it too. And it’s not just in rap; it can be art, you can run track, I don’t give a fuck what you do. Do lashes, whatever. Just know that if you have the drive and the passion and believe in yourself enough—like some of my best friends that would never give my shit the time of day, wouldn’t include me in rap conversations because I’m still local. Like, what type of shit is that? This is shit that my friends are saying, and it hurts, but it gave me that passion to say “Nah, Ima do this shit.” And it wasn’t till I actually did it that niggas gave me my props. So, now my main mission is to spread my message and inspire my city. 

M: I love that, bro. Thank you for all of that. This was an amazing interview. 

J.S.: Fasho, and just to give you your flowers, even with what you do, I don’t know where you are trying to take your career and shit, but dawg, you asked some great questions today. This was definitely a great conversation, and as I said, I have other interviews today, and you definitely set the tone! Peace. 

You can follow Jae Skeese on Twitter and Instagram @Jaeskeese

While you wait for his debut album, be sure to stream Jae Skeese’s latest project HERE and his latest release HERE.