The streets where Khiry Bivins grew up carry names like Pinocchio, Tinkerbell, and Goldilocks. He will be the first to tell you that the neighborhood itself was far from a fairy tale. That tension, between the storybook geography of Jacksonville’s Fairytale Lane and the weight of real life playing out on it, sits at the center of who Sk8tie is as an artist and as a person.

His mother made the block feel like community. She ran what the neighborhood knew as the candy lady operation out of the house: handmade sundaes, snacks, an open door. Sk8tie helped her with all of it, and somewhere in that early experience he absorbed a lesson about building something people want and serving the people around you. It was also, as he puts it now, one of his first lessons in hustle. By the time music found him, he already understood something about what it meant to put in the work before anyone else believed in the outcome. His new single, “Cost Me Alot,” is the clearest statement yet of what those years have added up to. Literal and spiritual at once, the title covers money, time, relationships, and the particular kind of sacrifice that comes with refusing to quit on something most people would have let go of long ago.

Sk8tie, hey — appreciate you doing this. You grew up on Fairytale Lane in Jacksonville, in a neighborhood where the streets are named after storybook characters. As a kid, what did it feel like to live on a block called Pinocchio or Tinkerbell — did it make the world feel more magical, or did it just feel normal?

Honestly, as a kid it just felt normal because that’s all I knew. Looking back now, it’s kind of ironic that I grew up on streets named after fairy tales while life itself was anything but a fairy tale. We dealt with real struggles, but that neighborhood gave me memories, people who looked out for each other, and experiences that helped shape who I am. I appreciate it now in a way I couldn’t when I was younger.

Your mother was a huge presence in the neighborhood, the “candy lady” who made sundaes and sold snacks out of the house. You helped her with all of that. Looking back, do you feel like that was one of your first experiences of hustling and serving a community?

Absolutely. I didn’t realize it at the time, but that’s where I learned business and customer service. I watched my mom create something that brought people together, and I helped however I could. Seeing people come to our house every day taught me that if you provide value and treat people right, they’ll support you. That mindset still follows me today as an independent artist and entrepreneur.

You’ve said you never really had a childhood because you were taking care of your mom, who had multiple sclerosis. That’s a heavy responsibility for a kid. Did music become a kind of escape during that time, or did it come into your life later?

Music came a little later, but once it found me, it became my escape. Taking care of my mom forced me to grow up fast. I didn’t get to experience childhood the way a lot of people do. When I finally started making music, it became a place where I could express everything I had been carrying for years. It gave me peace, purpose, and a voice when I didn’t always know how to explain what I was feeling.

Your new single “Cost Me Alot” is one of the clearest reflections of where you are right now, that the title is literal and spiritual at the same time. When you say everything costs you a lot, what’s the cost that comes to mind first when you hear that song back?

The first thing that comes to mind is time. You can always make more money, but you can’t get time back. I sacrificed years working, being away from family, missing moments, and putting everything I had into chasing this dream. The title isn’t just about financial cost. It’s about the emotional, mental, and personal price that comes with refusing to give up.

You rarely write lyrics down anymore — you hear a beat, feel the vibration, and record from that place. Was “Cost Me Alot” made that way too, or did this one come out differently because of what it’s actually about?

It was made the same way. I let the beat talk to me first. I don’t like forcing records. I let the feeling guide me, and whatever comes naturally is usually the most honest version of myself. “Cost Me Alot” happened that way too, but because I was living those emotions in real time, it came out even more genuine.

A song called “Cost Me Alot” could easily be just about money. But it sounds like for you it’s also about years, relationships, and parts of life you gave up to get here. When people listen to it, what do you hope they hear underneath the title?

I hope they hear perseverance. Everybody is paying a price for something they’re chasing. Whether it’s a dream, family, business, or just trying to survive, success always comes with sacrifices. I want people to know they’re not alone and that if they’re willing to keep pushing through those hard moments, it’ll be worth it in the end.

You’ve worked as a merchant seaman to fund your music, spending months at a time on ships traveling the world. A lot of rappers talk about hustling, but you’ve actually lived a version of it most people never see. How did the discipline of that work shape you creatively?

Working as a merchant seaman taught me discipline more than anything. You’re away from home for months, working long hours, and there’s nobody making excuses for you. That mindset carried over into music. It taught me consistency, patience, and how to keep working even when nobody’s watching. That’s been one of the biggest reasons I’ve been able to stay independent.

On those ships, you built a kind of creative self-sufficiency, engineering your own songs, carrying a mobile studio, learning to be your own engine. Do you think that experience taught you something about independence you might not have learned if the industry had opened its doors right away?

Definitely. If everything had come easy, I probably wouldn’t have learned half the skills I have today. Being on those ships forced me to figure things out on my own. I learned how to record myself, engineer my music, stay creative in small spaces, and keep moving without waiting on anyone. That independence is something nobody can take away from me now.

When your brother came back from Atlanta with a CD of Southern artists like Future, Gucci Mane, and T.I., you felt a freedom in that music. What was it about their sound that made you feel like you could be yourself fully?

It felt authentic. They weren’t trying to sound like anybody else. They embraced where they came from, their accents, their lifestyle, and their stories. Hearing that gave me confidence that I didn’t have to fit into somebody else’s version of hip-hop. I could tell my story my way and still connect with people.

What’s a dream project you have in your head right now that people might not expect from you based on just hearing your music?

A lot of people don’t know I love filmmaking just as much as music. One of my biggest goals is to create psychological thriller films and eventually build a production company that tells powerful stories through movies and television. Music opened the door, but I see myself becoming a complete storyteller, whether that’s through albums, films, or other creative projects.

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