Rapper Kahlee's focus is on the bars

“I can juggle a chainsaw, a bowling pin, and two Honeycrisp apples while taking a bite out of them. The apples, not the chainsaw or bowling pin.” That’s Mira Mesa rapper Kahlee, answering the question “What about you would surprise people the most?” He doesn’t often juggle in public, but that chainsaw audacity shows through in his dark, dank, forceful music cuts, including the recent “3 in the Chamber.”

He’ll vouch for his Mira Mesa ‘hood, where he’s lived since 2007, but as a family man, he concedes it isn’t always family-friendly. “The roads are horrible, and the homeless living along Mira Mesa Boulevard are frustrating to see, mainly because there are young school kids walking by them every day. My kids are still young, but as they grow, I want to feel comfortable knowing they’re safe walking down the street, that they won’t see someone doing something they shouldn’t be doing publicly.”

Kahlee grew up in Gardena, near Los Angeles, listening to “Eminem, Crooked I, Chino XL, and Talib Kweli. I loved how descriptive they were with their lyrics. I know for some people, it’s just about the vibe and the beat, and those things are important to me too, but the emcee is the paintbrush and the bars are my focus. I stole my mom’s car to go to my first concert at the El Rey Theater. Soon, I was going to concerts three or four times a week, and freestyling every chance I could get, whether at an open mic, or cypher after a show, or battling someone at the mall.”

Emceeing involves bearing up no matter what the universe throws at you. “I don’t wanna bash anyone specifically, but some of these shows with 20 artists who all rap over their vocals with a distorted sound system and have no stage presence just kill me.” He says he can recall “one of the homies choking a wack emcee for talking trash to him on the mic.” He’s never been there, but says that when he “opened up for Mos Def at Fourth and B, the sound man left me hanging big time. He wasn’t even at the booth to turn the mic up. After the set, I gave that sucka a one dollar tip and told him he deserved it.”

Touring also presents challenges. He recalls “staying in a Phoenix hotel with a broken AC, trying to sleep with three other dudes snoring. I remember being in a van, touring the U.S. with four homies for a month before hitting Canada. We got to the border too late and they were closed, so we smashed another two hours west, because the other border entrance was still open. Couple guys had some legal issues that prevented a smooth entrance, so we had to stay in this town called Rosewood — yeah, like the movie — to sort things out before trying again the next morning. We were the darkest five brothas in that town, I was sure of it. Same tour, we stayed in some small town and had the hotel staff thinking we were the band Incubus. Signed autographs and everything. I’ve performed at churches and seen people pretending to speak in tongues, which is annoying AF, but I’ve also performed at juvenile detention facilities for kids on good behavior, which was great.”

He aims for a new track every six weeks, which he admits is quite a daunting schedule. “Sometimes, the music flows like a fire hydrant, while other times not so much. I have so much on my plate, from family, my 9-to-5, music, and graphic design jobs, it really helps when I’m collabing. ‘3 in the Chamber’ is a perfect example of something that just happened. Nemy and Sam R I were rolling with me to a show I booked about an hour’s drive each way, in the rain. My eyes were watering like crazy because I had a cold. I had to cancel the show, but we decided to go to my studio instead. I already had some beats from Castle Money, and, boom, ‘3 in the Chamber’ was made. Sam R I and his guy Ash Ketcher mixed and mastered it.”

He says he doesn’t have big plans beyond that six-week grind. “I’m just having fun right now, putting my heart out there and seeing who gravitates towards it. Trying to make shit my great-grandkids can listen to and feel like they’re getting some jewels from me.”