Nailah Ware, president of Limitless, is convinced loving a rapper starts with knowing their story.
“When you are bringing that story you are bringing that truth with you. You know their story. That authenticity is what makes you root for a person,” Ware said.
To Ware, understanding a rapper’s experiences is the starting point for understanding the rapper.
Limitless is Elon University’s student rap and R&B organization. It took two years for Limitless to grow from a handful of beatmakers, rappers and stage technicians to a community of 40 members. After its genesis in a predominantly white institution, Limitless seeks to expand to other North Carolina colleges.
Ware has a smile and a silent fervor, attuned to her environment, she is keen to speak about Limitless. She performs as N Major, inspired by Kendrick Lamar, J. Cole, and Nicki Minaj. Ware insists that she can summarise the organization, without any doubt, like snapping her fingers.
“We are a creative collective of individuals,” Ware said. “We also happen to put on showcases too. That’s part of what we do now.”
When Ware first came to Elon she was in search of a space to continue her rapping. The student record company, Limelight Records, rarely had rap acts performing. The junior said she felt “like an alien” at the showcases she attended.
“I felt like, ‘Where’s the culture?’” Ware said.
The most recent data shows 5.3% of Elon undergraduate students are Black, and 78.4% of its students are white, according to the 2023 Elon Diversity Dashboard. Elon’s 78% of white undergraduate college students is much higher than the nationwide 52% of white undergraduate students nationally, according to 2022 data by The National Center for Education Data Statistics.
Ware met Chris Murphy, another Elon rapper, and asked him about the hip-hop scene on campus. It was the fall of 2022. There was no center of rap on campus. She remembers walking around Lake Mary Nell with him, mulling over her future as an artist.
“I remember asking him where hip-hop is on this campus and he said, ‘It’s not here Nailah’”, Ware said.
While she was disappointed in Limelight’s lack of artistic diversity, she couldn’t leave to find the hip-hop scene.
Ware attends Elon University on a full-ride scholarship. It didn’t take her long to dream up Limitless. She snaps her fingers while rooting through her memory.
“It took me like that to make up my mind,” Ware said.
Ware resolved to work on starting an organization during her freshman year, going “all in.”
The organization has four divisions — the creative, marketing, finance and operations departments. Limitless works with stage managers for showcases through the operations department and expands the audience through marketing. The organization gets funding from Elon’s Student Government Association and is often sponsored by Late Night Elon.
Nailah said she had some strong doubts about the school providing funding to Limitless until she had her meeting, where she was surprised by how much SGA backed her.
Senior Chris Murphy, who performs as Khari LeVard, co-founded Limitless with Nailah Ware. He sets himself apart with broad, thematic ideas in his percussive flows. He is from Rose Hill, a North Carolina town of 1,300. He considers himself to be more reserved and likes to play with that idea to mix up the expectations of an emcee.
Murphy said he had never attended a predominantly white school before Elon. He said his friends from other schools and mentors suggested that he write about it.
“You understand the word minority when you are called a minority for real because you are a minority on this campus,” Murphy said.
Murphy competed last week to hand out the most flyers for the fashion show he was DJing. When it was getting dark, he handed out a flyer to someone. Murphy said she was scared and started walking faster. She outstretched their arms out to keep him away.
“So imagine that but for multiple people in Limitless,” Murphy said.
“That’s the cool thing about rap. You can say what you want and tell about yourself. The more real you are, the more people will feel you, and like you and understand you,” Murphy said.
Murphy’s upcoming Album, Trash Pack 3, focuses on telling the story of infidelity in a relationship, which he has experience with. Murphy said he is using this album to help people understand and handle it.
“I want you to feel how I feel,” Murphy said.
The memories that started a love of rap for Murphy were driving to school in fifth grade in the backseat of his mom’s Hyundai Sonata. He and his brother used to listen to the same Snoop Dogg track “Nuthin’ But A ‘G’ Thang” every day driving to school in Rose Hill.
Jamarion Davis is the lead producer and engineer for Limitless. He is a freshman who found Limitless as his community. Davis is inspired by producer and rapper GloRilla and has a fascination recently with making trap beats with a darker sound. He taught himself the basics of Pro Tools after basketball practice in high school. He is constantly sending cold emails and learning new skills to corner his market as a producer.
“When I first got here, I didn’t like it at all. I’m living in an all-white dorm. It was just uncomfortable, I didn’t have my own space,” Davis said.
Davis said he was worried that he wasn’t going to get the best experience for college. To Davis, Limitless gave him a space to be creative and express himself. He specifically remembers one of the moments at the concert where almost 200 attended.
“Like I got on stage and was lit, I’m shy, I’m very shy. I have never acted like that in any way,” Davis said. “Oh my god, It was because I had my friends around me, I didn’t feel any embarrassment, I just felt myself.”
Now comes the next showcase. It’s a Saturday night. Music resonates in an empty room. Just a wall of mirrors and an open hardwood floor, the artists and their personalities. They rehearse for a ’90s-themed showcase at the Taphouse on April 4.
Ware and Murphy bring in the guest rapper YBC Retro, and one of his songs starts playing. It has a New jack swing feel. Ware and Murphy begin dancing . YBC Retro shows some hesitation at first, but halfway through the song Ware and Murphy dragged him in the center of the floor.
He looked at his reflection, balled his fist, and, as if he was holding a microphone, he began to sing.