It's definitely a privilege to be able to do what you love to do; it's not something that everyone gets to do, so I feel really good about that.
I feel that its important for me to be out there and to represent the face. At the same time, for me as an individual, I think the Asian-American face can be crowded with the American identity.
Other female rappers are overly sexual, have no wit, and their lyrics are so generic. I want to change the game to make rap that shows I'm not a normal female rapper - it's not about how rich I am, how much sex I have, or how many boyfriends I have. That's just not me.
My every birthday wish was, 'I want to someday be on TV.'
My grandma was very traditional, but she herself is a rebel of that culture.
You can't really label me as a musician, a comedian, or a rapper - you know, it's different.
I was physically addicted to 'Tony Hawk's American Wasteland' for PS2.
I like to rap about things that are funny but mostly things that are relatable. I remember there was this one song with Ja Rule, and I forgot, exactly, but it was with Ashanti, and there's a line in it that was like, 'She hit me up on AIM.' But that wasn't the actual line; it was something else, but I was like, 'Oh my God, he uses AIM!'
I think rap in general allows you to be more lyrically expressive. It's a lot easier to state your identity, as opposed to with a guitar making all these weird metaphors.
I'm torn between wanting to connect with what I grew up with and what's available, living in Brooklyn. I don't have a grimy supermarket that decapitates frogs' heads nearby.
I remember watching Margaret Cho with my grandmother on TV. She was my hero, not only because she was funny, but because she showed me that it's okay to be yourself, that it's okay to be a brash yellow girl and to be a strong and brave woman.
I used to chop up C-Span soundbites or interviews with politicians like John Kerry or Bill Clinton into a radio-esque show hosted by Awkwafina and her producer, Mookie. I would pitch down my vocals to have male guests and would send them to a small circle of friends after they were done.
Rap was started by black people and, thus, is at the foundation of black culture. So people cannot always wrap their minds around someone like me being inspired by it. But if you listen to the things we're saying, they're authentically us.
Let's take Taylor Swift. She lives in a huge beautiful apartment; she gets limo-ed everywhere. She's not seeing what it means to live in New York.
I grew up two train stops from where A Tribe Called Quest grew up, and one stop from Nas.
If you don't address race, then people are like, 'Why don't you talk about the elephant in the room?' But you have to do it right. It can't be gimmicky.
I really like gross Chinese things.
I think people always want to hear that there are barriers that exist for us. But the more I started to realize artists that are kind of like me in my lane, like, if they were white or African-American, they often had trouble because it wasn't the quality of their music: they just didn't stick out.
I grew up thinking Margaret Cho and Lucy Liu were my idols because that's it.
I am American. If you drop me in Seoul, I don't think I'm going to thrive there.
