For years, Bizzy Crook has quietly helped shape some of modern R&B and hip-hop’s biggest records. His songwriting has found its way onto projects by Drake, GIVEON, Coco Jones, Kehlani, and most recently Leon Thomas, where his contributions to MUTT earned him two Grammy Awards for Best Traditional R&B Performance and Best R&B Album.

But Underdogs Win Eventually isn’t about celebrating industry accolades.

It’s about everything that came before them.

The deeply personal album traces the emotional cost of perseverance through stories of financial collapse, depression, family disappointment, and rebuilding from nothing. Across collaborations with Leon Thomas, Benny The Butcher, Ty Dolla $ign, Rick Ross, and more, Bizzy delivers perhaps his most revealing work to date, refusing to separate ambition from the sacrifices that made it possible.

Ahead of the album’s release, we caught up with Bizzy Crook to discuss surviving the music industry, embracing the underdog mentality, working alongside Leon Thomas, and why dreams don’t come with expiration dates.

Underdogs Win Eventually is a title filled with patience, resilience, and hard-earned perspective. What does being an underdog mean to you today?

Being an underdog is my superpower now.

For years I thought being doubted was a curse.

Looking back, it was actually the force that kept pushing me forward.

It was never really about proving other people wrong—it was about proving myself right.

I needed that energy to keep taking the next step.

Now I fully embrace being the underdog.

Hopefully young people can see that the very things they’re insecure about can eventually become their greatest strengths.

After helping shape records for artists like Leon Thomas and Kehlani, how different does it feel emotionally when the story finally belongs entirely to you?

My friends are incredibly talented vocally.

Honestly, if I could have them sing my entire album, I probably would.

Leon can make heartbreak sound more heavenly than I ever could.

But this project is my story.

Only I could tell it.

You’ve spent years writing through other artists’ voices. Was there a moment you realized you needed to stop telling other people’s stories and tell your own?

Not really, because this album tells stories that only I could possibly tell.

It’s my real life.

My mother finally started believing in me, and then had to sell the BMW I bought her.

One of the closest people in my family never even congratulated me after I won Grammys.

I drove to Key Biscayne seriously contemplating ending my life before my mother called me.

I lost everything and had to build it all again.

Those stories belong to me.

I’ve lived enough lives that I’ll probably never run out of things to write about.

Throughout the record there’s a constant tension between ambition and exhaustion. Do you think people romanticize perseverance without acknowledging what it actually costs?

I think society romanticizes perseverance.

Nobody throws you a surprise party just because you’re trying.

And honestly…

I don’t think they should.

We’re human beings.

Our ancestors fought for our existence.

Trying is the bare minimum.

Everybody tries.

Perseverance is different.

Very few people actually cross that finish line.

Once you understand that, life becomes a lot less disappointing.

“Risky” reconnects with the spirit of classic Florida rap while still feeling reflective and mature. How important was it to bring your roots into the album?

It was extremely important.

Rick Ross represents where I’m from now.

C Stunna represents the 239—Southwest Florida—where I grew up.

I wanted those two versions of Florida to exist together on one project.

They’re completely different worlds.

But they’re both home.

Working on Leon Thomas’ MUTT became a defining chapter in your career. What did you learn from him creatively?

More than anything…

Work ethic.

I’ve honestly never met someone who works as hard as Leon.

He’ll finish one album while already making the next one.

The crazy part is those albums can come out two years later and still sound ahead of everyone else.

Watching him also changed the way I recorded.

I’d spend forever doing a hundred vocal takes because I was overthinking everything.

Leon would record two or three takes…

Move on.

He taught me that imperfections are part of the art.

The rawness is the art.

The energy is the art.

I could probably spend another interview talking about everything I learned from him.

Your songwriting credits span artists from Drake to GIVEON and Coco Jones. When you’re writing for someone else, how much of yourself still ends up inside the song?

Honestly…

All of me.

If I’m writing from a woman’s perspective, I’ll think about women in my own life.

Maybe I’ll think about how I’ve hurt someone.

Maybe I’ll imagine how someone made me feel and flip the perspective.

If I’m writing for someone incredibly successful, I imagine what I’d say if I had reached that level myself.

It’s really about finding that universal connection.

Seeing myself inside other people…

And seeing them inside me.

Every artist becomes a different assignment.

Tracks like “What Do U Like?” and “100%” show a softer side, while songs like “Risky” carry much more defiance. Was that emotional range intentional?

Absolutely.

The sequencing tells the story.

Life isn’t one emotion.

Some days you feel unstoppable.

Some days you feel like the entire world is against you.

I wanted the album to move through all of those emotional highs and lows.

You’ve now experienced both Grammy success and the realities of industry politics. What’s one truth young artists aren’t prepared for?

Nobody cares until you win.

That’s just the reality.

You spend years trying to get invited into rooms.

Trying to network.

Trying to meet people.

But until you’ve actually put numbers on the board, most people barely acknowledge you.

When I went to the Grammys as a nominee, everything changed overnight.

Suddenly people wanted to talk.

You belonged in the rooms you used to fight your way into.

It taught me something important.

A lot of artists think networking is working.

Most of the time…

It isn’t.

My advice is simple:

Skip the parties.

Lock in.

Then show up when it’s actually your time.

After years of helping create defining moments for other artists, what do you hope listeners finally understand about Bizzy Crook?

Don’t let anybody project their limitations onto you.

You decide who you get to become.

Will it cost you?

Absolutely.

But you can become whoever you choose to be.

Dreams don’t expire.

You’re never too old.

You’re never too late.

If God gave you the dream, there’s a reason for it.

And eventually…

Underdogs win.