After eight years in prison, the uptown MC finds redemption with Dip Set

Ben Detrick; Photograph by MARK LIKOSKY Max B. isn’t worried about the ominous ashen clouds that threaten to disrupt his first–ever magazine photo shoot. The uptown-bred rapper leans up against a wooden construction girder on a Manhattan street and takes a drag from his Newport. “The sun always shines on me,” he says confidently.

With four notable appearances on Jim Jones’s Harlem: The Diary Of A Summer album, and hook duty on its first single, “Baby Girl,” the future is as bright as the Diplomats medallion draped around his neck. But, truth be told, Max B., né Charly Wingate, has only recently been reacquainted with daylight. In January, the 27–year–old returned home from an eight–year prison bid for a robbery conviction.

“I wrote eight, nine hours a day, drank coffee, smoked cigarettes and stayed by myself,” says Max B. (the “B” stands for “Biggavelli,” a combination of Biggie, Jigga and Makaveli). His jailhouse regimen eventually spawned more than 200 rhymes on stash. After spending most of his young adulthood behind bars, Max is now equal parts optimistic newcomer and grizzled veteran. “He puts you in the mind of a wino that been through everything in life and just sings on the corner,” says Jones, who tabbed Max for his Byrd Gang imprint after hearing him rap just days after his release.

Though some might attribute Max’s recent success to a blend of talent, self–reliance, luck and knowing the right people, he himself credits a higher power. “God is beautiful. He put me in a situation where I could make millions this year,” he says. “If I could do it all over, I would—another eight years.” Get your shine on.

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