If Netflix set Narcos in modern-day Florida, Kent Loon would land a lead role. The St. Petersburg-raised artist is an authority on swerving through South Florida in a foreign after dark, the dashboard neon refracting off a diamond-studded Rolex. Hazy indica nights at beachside hotels with pill-popping models, full of fleeting highs. And as a half-Chinese, half-Colombian immigrant, Kent could regale the writer’s room with tales of ducking ICE agents while hustling to survive. If the reboot ever materializes, the soundtrack is already here: Kent Loon’s entire catalogue.

Over the course of his last two albums, Kent casts himself as a young Pablo Escobar with drug-induced surrealist visions. Palm trees melt like Dali clocks, the plugs call, onshore breezes carry blunt ashes, and the lean oozes. Kent, the well-connected hustler, celebrates with sedated flexes while on the rise and on the brink of collapse. Scored by ominous, creeping trap from producers like longtime collaborator Chester Watson, Kent surrounds himself with a cast of sharp talent, and realizes the promise voiced by VICE, SPIN, and more publications.

Born in Bogota, Colombia, Kent spent his pre-K years in Neiva, Huila, a small Colombian village then overrun by a guerilla military. Rebel thugs regularly extorted Kent’s father, a successful restaurant owner, and threatened to kidnap his family. When the fear became too much for Kent’s mother to bear, she grabbed her son and fled to Florida.

While his mother worked backbreaking days at factories, Kent braved kindergarten in St. Petersburg. The language barrier and new environment initially terrified him, but he adapted, picking up English via friends and TV.  Though Vallenato and Reggaeton echoed through the home Kent shared with his extended Colombian family, that music soon became background noise. Lil Wayne was on BET and MTV, spitting fire on every beat worth rapping over and dousing his esophagus with codeine. Kent was obsessed. He learned every lyric, scoured the Internet for all Wayne mixtapes and leaked tracks. Before middle school ended, he recorded his first rhymes to popular beats using his cousin’s studio equipment and uploaded them to MySpace.