“Marco Plus raps better than you.”
That’s the message permeated throughout the video for Marco Plus’ 2025 single “OMM” (an acronym for the slang phrase “on my mama”). Dozens of people can be seen standing behind the Atlanta rapper, donning white T-shirts emblazoned with the statement, while black flags with the same words wave behind them.
In the video, Marco Plus is the lone person wearing a black T-shirt that has no words at all. But that doesn’t mean he has nothing to say.
“I came from the hardest times/ decided not to cry and turn my pain into the hardest lines,” he raps in the opening verse.
The song, released in April, sounds like it could be the thesis of Marco Plus’ artistry. Or his personal war cry. Since 2021, the 27-year-old rapper has built momentum for rhyming about the toughest situations (depression, loneliness, smoking marijuana as a coping mechanism) with an exceptional lyrical proficiency that makes it hard to believe he can’t outrap your favorite rapper.
His path has garnered the attention of morning radio show “The Breakfast Club” and Complex magazine. He performed at Dreamville Festival in April, and fellow Atlanta rapper JID featured Marco on background vocals on his recent single “Wrk.” With a new album slated to come out this year, the rapper plans to hone in on his honesty while chasing greatness.
“The best way to stand out is just by being me,” he told The Atlanta Journal-Constitution via Zoom.
Born Demarcus Pollard in Pensacola, Florida, Marco Plus was raised in College Park, just south of Atlanta. He’s rapped since he was a toddler, growing up in a musical family that encouraged his dreams. He fondly remembers his mom, grandma and aunt singing around the house.
Credit: Handout
Credit: Handout
Marco Plus dropped out of Benjamin Banneker High School before his senior year to fully focus on music. In 2015, he dropped his first album, “My Friends Understand,” on SoundCloud. But it wasn’t until 2021 that he started releasing music consistently. He’s released six albums since then.
The increase in productivity is partially credited to a deep depression he endured at the time. In 2021, the rapper was grappling with heartbreak, being a new father (his daughter is now 5) and the COVID-19 pandemic.
Marco Plus has battled depression off and on as early as first grade. He recalls feeling so sad in school that alarmed teachers informed his mom. Today, he lists his friends and music as a saving grace.
“I don’t think a lot of people know where the root of (depression) comes from,” he said. “It just kind of happens.”
As for his new album, Marco Plus said he wants to stay mum on most details because he’s “a perfectionist and nothing is finalized yet.” But he promises his fans that he’s still led by the same vulnerability that underscores his appeal (previously-released single “OMM” will be on the new album).
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution talked to Marco Plus about his career goals, rapping about mental health and themes on his new album.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.
Q: As a child, was there anything outside of your familial influences that sparked your interest in music?
A: It was (legendary New Orleans rap group) Hot Boys, to be honest. Those were my favorite rappers. And Big Tymers. I have vivid memories of being like a little older than a toddler and rapping to “Get Your Roll On” and “#1 Stunna” and having my T-shirt off under a flannel as a little kid with a hat to the back. I used to want to be Lil Wayne before people wanted to be Lil Wayne ... They were just cool. They looked like what I wanted to do. Before I even — and this might sound crazy, but — seen a president, I saw Lil Wayne and Birdman.
Q: Your new album centers the theme of an “underworld.” What does that mean?
A: The short answer is kind of like my personal limbo and hell, just adversity in life. It could be trying to survive where you’re from. It could be trying to survive the landscape in which you make music. It can be just dealing with people dying around you, relationship issues, stress that has nothing to do with music or anything — all types of life issues. It’s really about getting out of the darker, deeper place that we all kind of have in us.
Q: If you feel comfortable, what’s an experience that’s led you to be as vulnerable as you are in your music?
A: I had a very serious panic attack before I started making music in 2015. And I wasn’t the same since. It was kind of a weird thing. I remember I just freaked out. Then the next day, I talked less. I stayed more in the house. I started writing more about my mind. I think it’s just something that I have to do. If I don’t rap with what I feel is a purpose, then I ain’t doing it.
Q: Thanks for sharing that. You credit your friends/rap-producer collective Backseat for helping you cope with depression. How did you all meet?
A: I met Smiles, who’s the founder of Backseat, in 2018, but it wasn’t on nothing rap. Months later, he sees me at a party. He says, “Yo, I know you. I follow you on Instagram. You rap good.” And we kind of just went from there. I had a friend who committed suicide behind the house where we frequented. Smiles called me 10 minutes after I found out. I picked up the phone, but I’m crying. He’s like, “Are you good?” I’m like, “No.” And I linked up with him that weekend, and we just kind of made music.
Credit: Handout
Credit: Handout
Q: I’m so sorry to hear about your friend. I’m glad you had support during that time. What’s your headspace going into this new album?
A: I feel like this is my best project, but I also feel like it’s my most honest. There’s a certain vulnerability to this album that is kind of unmatched to my other stuff because I’m kind of shaking my ego off.
Q: What’s your creative process? What’s your approach to song structure?
A: On track beats and stuff. I (use) the punch-in method, where I’m freestyling the whole way through. Then, I like to write all of my more lyrical, slower stuff. But it can go either way. Sometimes, I’ll freestyle the things that don’t sound like they should be freestyled, or I’ll write the more trap songs. When it comes to songwriting and making hooks, I tend to freestyle more. I freestyle the skeleton of what I want to do. Then I’d either write the correct thing I want to say to make it more precise, or I’d go on my phone and type out lines that I think would make sense for it.
Q: I think people are really drawn to how well you can rap.
A: I feel like everybody can rap good. I might be able to do it exceptionally better than people, but I don’t want to be known as the dude who just raps good because it’s like, who’s only going for that? That’s why I like to rap about my life, do it at a high level, and put hooks with it and try different sounds and different beats. I just want to be the most well-rounded of anybody ever.
Editor’s Note: This story discusses suicide. If you or someone you know needs help, the national suicide and crisis lifeline in the United States is available by calling or texting 988 or 1-800-273-8255. There is also an online chat at 988lifeline.org.
Heat Check is a monthly music column where AJC culture reporter DeAsia Paige explores the temperature of Georgia’s buzzing, expansive music scene. The column includes music news, trends and any Georgia-related music that DeAsia is listening to. If you’re a Georgia artist and have music you want to be considered for this column — or if you just want to talk music — feel free to send an email to deasia.paige@ajc.com. Below is a playlist for June.
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