The first time I heard Pain In My Cup, it was 1 AM in San Francisco at an invite-only post-NBA All-Star Saturday party—one of those spots where the guest list is more exclusive than the game itself. The DJ ran it back for what felt like three times in a row, but when I hit Shazam, nothing came up. That’s when I knew it was something different.
Turns out, the song was unreleased at the time, moving through the party like a secret currency. It finally dropped yesterday, and if the energy from that night was any indication, Prince Ri is gearing up for his moment.
The Future of Street Pain Rap?
Prince Ri’s arrival couldn’t be more timely. With Lil Durk’s ongoing legal battles putting his career in flux, fans of melodic street rap are hungry for a new voice. Ri might just be the one to fill that void—if he can do what Durk and so many before him haven’t: Leave the streets behind.
- Worth noting, Banks is innocent until proven guilty, and based on the facts of the case, I fully believe he’ll get off.
That’s where Prince Ri comes in. His latest single, Pain In My Cup, is raw, urgent, and drenched in regret, a blend of paranoia and vulnerability that defines the best of this genre. Over a moody, hypnotic beat, Ri wrestles with love, loyalty, and survival, all while drowning his demons in double cups.
From “Used To Be Stealing” to a Fully Arrived Artist
After doing some research, Prince Ri first caught ears with Used To Be Stealing, a track that had the streets buzzing and laid the groundwork to tell his story. But on Pain In My Cup, it feels like he’s fully arrived.
The confidence, the delivery, the weight in his voice—it all suggests an artist who isn’t just knocking on the door but kicking it down.
A Closer Look at the Lyrics
The track’s opening lines set the stage for an artist torn between the life he’s built and the one he’s trying to escape:
“Where you at? What you on? / Why you ain’t pick up the phone?
Let me find out that another n**a dick in your throat”*Nah I’m just playing.
Pick up the phone so we can get on the road / and hurry up I’m in a rush, I can’t be missing no shows
It’s blunt, yes. But it’s also a playful window into the psyche of someone constantly on edge— fueled by a past that makes trust damn near impossible.
The chorus is melodic, as Ri fights to maintain a connection with the only woman he believes is real in his world:
“I’m pouring all this pain up in my cup / If I’m dreaming, baby girl, don’t wake me up.”
These aren’t just bars; they’re coping mechanisms, the same kind that made Future, Durk, and Real Boston Richey household names. It’s the kind of pain that resonates because it’s real, not manufactured.
What Sets Prince Ri Apart?
While Pain In My Cup follows in the footsteps of rap storytellers before him, Ri brings a fresh hunger and new perspective. His voice carries the weight of someone who’s seen too much, too fast, and the production choice—dreamy yet menacing—only amplify that tension.
The Real Question: Can He Stay Free?
Every promising rapper that comes from the trenches faces the same challenge: Getting out before the past pulls them back in.
For Prince Ri, that means navigating a world where loyalty and survival often clash. If he can make the leap to industry mainstay without letting the streets consume him, he has the potential to become more than just the streets successor—he could be the next evolution of pain rap.
Only time will tell.