Jamaal Matters, known in his hometown of Raleigh, NC, carved his identity as the “Green & Gold emcee”—a nod to his university roots and rural upbringing. Early in his career, he built buzz through underground open‑mic nights, weaving together narratives of community, systemic struggle, and personal ambition. Teaming up with Brooklyn‑based producer A.R.T (real name @a_r_tproductions), he found a creative counterpart who shared his love for cinematic old-school black cinema, dusty funk, and purposeful lyricism—culminating in an album shaped like a film: Penmanship.
Jamaal Matters steps into Penmanship like an auteur stepping onto a SoundStage—modern‑day Blaxploitation in audio form, he says. The opening track, “Pimptro,” sets the scene: brooding bass, cinematic horns, and Jamaal’s measured cadence painting a character both swaggering and introspective—an intro not just to a persona, but to a mindset. The album becomes a script where every bar builds character, scene by scene. A.R.T’s dusty boom-bap channels that grind: guitars rattling through filtered vinyl loops as if dipped in cinematic dust.
But beneath the stylized bravado lies a confession: You won’t own me—I make my art for truth. This is Jamaal working through healing via creativity. In “Rapxxploitation,” he tackles the industry’s doors that only crack wide for a chosen few—calling out promoters, gatekeepers, record execs. His tone is quiet but cutting: “They want our hustle in their display, but not our souls.” There’s no headline-grabbing anger, just a weary resolve: I write not for their permission.
“Fly Casanova,” featuring Funk$hwayyy, eases into warmer, jazzy chord progressions—yet it’s more elegy than celebration. They trade lines about street romance and shared ambition, but the real theme pulses between the notes: finding trust in the messy act of human connection. This, too, is healing—authentic bonds amid systemic pressures. It fits the Blaxploitation motif, yet flips the genre’s clichés: this Casanova isn’t a player; he’s a poet leaning in.
The skit “Penmanship in the UK” bridges space and form—Mylo Stone’s British inflection pierces the globe’s walls, reminding us art travels. But after that, “Landing in Raleigh”—a 32‑second interlude—brings us home: the hardest reveal is the return trip. It reconnects Jamaal to his roots, proving home is more than a place—it’s a reason to keep creating.
In “Crack Era,” Jamaal refracts the street’s history through personal lens, laying ghostly keys over a haunting sample. It’s not glamor—it’s realism. He shares a moment with his cousin caught in cycles, turning trauma into fuel. Here, the healing through creativity lesson arrives in full force: We break the pattern by telling the story.
Finally, the “Green & Gold Remix” featuring Niro closes with reflective warmth. The colors echo pride—school pride, hometown pride, self‑pride. The cinematic arc completes: the narrator has earned his right to speak, on his own terms.
Jamaal Matters and A.R.T have crafted Penmanship as a creative salve—and a demand for space in a world that often confines artists. By treating his album as an audio film, Jamaal heals personal and collective wounds, while challenging gatekeepers through every frame and phrase. This project doesn’t ask for permission—it claims presence.
