Kurdish-NZ Rapper Fat Papi Makes Billboard History With Viral TikTok Hit

Baban Hussain was 22 years old and working out of a modest studio in Auckland, releasing music under the name Fat Papi to a modest following of a few thousand people. Two months before speaking to the Guardian, he was unknown outside a tight circle. Then something shifted. A song he'd made with Australian producer Owen Omen—known professionally as Prodshushy—accumulated 7.5 billion views across YouTube, pulled nearly 10 million new monthly listeners to his Spotify profile, and landed him on the US Billboard Hot 100. That last achievement carried weight beyond the usual metrics of chart success: Hussain became the first Kurdish artist ever to reach the Billboard Hot 100, and only the second New Zealand rapper to do so.

The song was called Freaked Out, released in May to almost no fanfare. For weeks it went nowhere. Hussain and Omen tried various promotional angles, each one landing with a thud. Then Prodshushy uploaded a short dance video set to a clip of the track—specifically the moment where Fat Papi raps "Get that bag, you ain't ever comin' last." The video hit 1.5 million views. A couple of days later, a UK-based TikTok influencer named Jocelyn Meiere, who goes by Miss Diva Bob and commands 3.1 million followers, posted her own video: a showcase of her slick bob haircut, set to the same song. What happened next was the kind of cascade that defines the modern music industry. "We look back a week later and it's growing and growing," Hussain said during a video call from a New York hotel where he was meeting with industry figures. "From that point, it was over, it was everywhere, it was insane."

The internet filled with variations. People shaking their hair to Freaked Out. British artist Raye posted one. US rapper Megan Thee Stallion filmed herself making enchiladas while mouthing the lyrics. The song hit number one on Shazam globally. It charted in the UK, Australia, and the United States. When it debuted on the Billboard Hot 100, it entered at position 88.

Hussain's parents had fled Iraq as refugees in 1999. He grew up in a small Kurdish community in Auckland, the only Kurdish student at his school. The weight of what had just happened—the historical fact of it—seemed to move him in ways that chart positions alone could not capture. "It's history, it's insane," he said. "I think that's a big thing—actually just representing people and our home towns. Being able to do that for my people was insane. I still struggle to find the words to show love for that." Prodshushy, who is of Papua New Guinea and Solomon Islands descent, felt something similar. "No one where I'm from has ever reached this point in their career, like music producing-wise," he said. "It was such a big moment for me and also my people back home."

The two had only started working together four months before the song's release. They met in person for the first time in July. The collaboration began when Hussain rapped over one of Prodshushy's beats and sent it back to him—a long shot, since Prodshushy had 20,000 followers at the time and Hussain had 800. "I didn't expect him to reply," Hussain said. "But I was like, OK, I'm going to shoot my shot … and he really liked it." They describe a natural creative synchronicity, a state of flow that seems to happen when they work together. Hussain praised Prodshushy's mixing abilities and his range of influences—hip-hop, trap, afro-beat. Prodshushy, in turn, highlighted Fat Papi's gift for riding any beat, his ability to find the pocket regardless of what was underneath him.

Hussain's own musical education came from a specific lineage: 2015 club music, the west coast sound, New York and New Jersey hip-hop, producers like Mustard, rappers like Kid Ink. He credits growing up listening almost exclusively to Kurdish music with shaping his ear for different styles, giving him a kind of openness to sound that might not have developed otherwise.

The machinery of the music industry has now engaged. They have management. They have record deals. A new single is scheduled for September. They're booked to play Australia's Spilt Milk festival in December across four dates. Coachella is on the horizon as an aspiration. Hussain is clear-eyed about what comes next: converting viral momentum into something that lasts requires work, discipline, and sustained effort. "Even if it doesn't happen, we'll definitely give it our best go, and we've got that confidence with us," he said. The fairytale moment is real. What happens after is still being written.