I Was A Writer At The Age Of 7
Before Money Coo was a name on a record, it was the nickname Lil Coochie, giving to me by my g-lady Mildred Collins, may she rest in Heaven. I was branded since birth, and developed a habit to write and a way of moving, a way of seeing the block different than everybody else did. Coming from nothing, I developed an all work in no play attitude.
Ever since I heard the sound of music blast through my grandmother's speakers, I went upstairs and tried to write a hit. I never used to rap in front of people. But when I got home from Burnet Elementary School, I grabbed my Walkman and started writing. I tried to write to every cassette I could find — if it was a 2 Short cassette, I'd try to write a song and mimic 2 Short.
I have much love for Houston, Texas and it's music scene — I love being from the same culture. Htown 4/life. Galveston isn't Houston, It isn't Austin or Dallas. It's an island — salt air, salt water, salty dawgs, shipping channels, tropical weather, and a music scene that most of the industry has never bothered to look at twice. That's exactly why it mattered to build something real here instead of somewhere easier.
By the time I got to Central Middle School, I was ready. I started with freestyling in the cafeteria before class, then freestyling at parties. I hooked up with a local rap group, Barre None Fade All — we soon changed the name to Tre Side. I was going to Cornbread in Houston when they were freestyling after hours.
By the time I got to Ball High School, I was well known for rhyming delivery. I started recording every day with Tre Side and put together compilations with them. I collaborated with Killa Ro on Underground Hoggin' — a lot of locals were excited about that project, and it created a real buzz. I performed at Ball High Stadium — I'm the only local artist who's performed at the hometown stadium. I performed at the Balinese Room, which was washed away by the storm. I also gave performances at the Galveston Convention Center and Gulf Greyhound Park, alongside Swishahouse — RIP Michael Watts, shout out to Rochon Mason. I think those were legendary showcases.
All that is good and great, but I didn't know the business fully — I was just doing what I love to do. Which I still am today.
Before the Name Meant Anything
There was a version of this brand that chased a generic idea of luxury — polished, safe, forgettable. It didn't sound like anything, and it didn't sound like Galveston. Money Coo is what came after that: less about looking expensive, more about being undeniable. More about becoming the money. The name carries weight because it's earned, not because it's decorated.
What "Coo" Actually Means Here
Coo is short for Coochie. My hometown calls me Money Coo — a title given to me by the people who raised me, not something I gave myself. It's the flow. It's originality. It's staying composed when everything around you is loud, always capturing the moment. It's Gulf Coast hip-hop delivered with the same calm confidence as the tide — it doesn't need to rush to prove it's coming in. It's staying faithful to the Gulf Coast tradition of the island, and staying down for the come up. Coo is freedom, perseverance, ambition, driven spirituality. Coo is a leader, an influencer, a trailblazer, a trend.
The Throughline
Every bar, every piece of merch, every thread of this brand traces back to the same 43rd Block, Ball St., Ave H, near the coast. Made IN Galveston isn't a slogan — it's an ANCHOR.