Michael ‘5000’ Watts, Who Took Chopped and Screwed From Mixtapes to the Mainstream, Dies at 52

Michael “5000” Watts, the Swishahouse founder who helped take Houston’s "chopped and screwed" sound worldwide, is shown in a photo released by his family. Watts, 52, died on Friday. 

The architect of the Northside sound has transitioned, leaving behind a city forever slowed by his influence.

Michael "5000" Watts, the visionary DJ and founder of Swishahouse Records who transformed Houston’s "chopped and screwed" subculture from a trunk-sale hustle into a Billboard-topping global phenomenon, has died. He was 52.

The Watts family confirmed the loss on Friday, revealing that the hip-hop pioneer passed away on Jan. 30, 2026, at Memorial Hermann Hospital in The Woodlands. According to the family, Watts succumbed to a sudden cardiac event caused by Torsades de Pointes, a rare and fatal heart rhythm disorder. He had been hospitalized for the past week facing what loved ones described as "tremendous health issues," a battle that ended surrounded by his family.

To understand the gravity of this loss is to understand the geography of Texas rap. While the late DJ Screw originated the slowed-down "screwed" sound on the Southside, it was Watts who planted the flag on the Northside in the late 90s. He didn’t just replicate the style; he industrialized it, turning Swishahouse from a local label into a vertically integrated empire that eventually kicked down the doors of the mainstream.

Watts was an A&R genius with an ear that rivaled any major label executive. Under his stewardship, the "Swishahouse" tag became a seal of quality that launched a golden era of talent, including Slim Thug, Paul Wall, Mike Jones and Chamillionaire. His distinct voice—announcing "Remix!" over iconic tracks —became the soundtrack for a generation.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Queen Watts at the #Swishahouse #HTX (@tammie5000watts)

The impact of his vision was best summarized by his longtime partner and fellow Swishahouse co-founder OG Ron C, who described the loss with "profound sorrow." In a statement, Ron C framed Watts not merely as an executive, but as a "cultural architect" who reshaped the identity of the city.

"Michael '5000' Watts was more than a founder, he was a movement," the statement read. "As the creator of Swishahouse Records, he helped define the sound, spirit, and global influence of Houston hip-hop. Watts expanded on Houston's chopped and screwed legacy, transforming mixtape culture into a worldwide phenomenon and giving a platform to voices that would go on to shape an era."

That era reached its zenith in 2005, when the Swishahouse anthem "Still Tippin'" exploded nationally. It was a moment of vindication for Watts, proving that the slow, hypnotic sound of the Northside could captivate listeners from New York to Los Angeles.

Beyond the charts, Watts remained a tangible "pillar in the community," a sentiment echoed by his colleagues at 97.9 The Box, where he was a fixture on the airwaves. He was accessible, a mentor who kept his ear to the streets even after the platinum plaques arrived.

"He was a business owner, DJ, radio personality... and pillar in the community," his family noted in their official tribute, asking for continued prayers as they navigate this "very hard journey."

Watts leaves behind his wife, Tammy Watts, five children, and two grandchildren.

For those who grew up on the "The Day Hell Broke Loose" series, the silence today is deafening. Watts didn't just slow down the music; he slowed down the world long enough for everyone to appreciate the unique rhythm of Houston.

Rest in Power, 5000. The House he built stands forever.

Bryan Loren, R&B Singer and Prolific Producer, Dies at 59

The music world lost one of its most potent secret weapons this week. Bryan Loren, the multi-instrumentalist prodigy known as “The Wiz” who helped shape the sound of Michael Jackson’s "Dangerous" era and quietly co-created one of the most unlikely pop culture hits of the 1990s, has died. He was 59.

For the uninitiated, Loren was a liner-note name. For students of the groove, he was something closer to a missing link — a bridge between the lush Philly soul of the 1970s and the hard-edged "New Jack Swing" that defined the 1990s. He was a true music man: a writer, producer, singer and instrumentalist capable of building an entire record from the ground up before most artists had finished soundcheck.

Born Bryan Loren Hudson on Long Island and raised in South Philadelphia, Loren was a prodigy by any measure. By 15, he was already a working session musician at Alpha International Studios, learning under Philly legend Nick Martinelli. He brought funk and polish to Fat Larry’s Band and layered sleek textures for the vocal trio Cashmere, earning the nickname “The Wiz” for his uncanny command of synthesizers and rhythm programming.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by shanice (@shaniceonline)

According to Shana Mangatal, a former manager for Jackson who became close friends with Loren, the King of Pop was "stunned" to learn Loren had handled every duty himself on Shanice’s debut album “Discovery” at just 19 years old.

"His talent was on the level of Prince," Mangatal wrote in a tribute. "Truly rare."

This admiration sparked a creative brotherhood that would unfold largely behind the scenes.

In the early 1990s, Jackson was searching for a new sonic direction following “Bad.” He found it in Loren’s basement studio in Woodland Hills, California. Mangatal recalls Jackson frequently driving himself to Loren's home, where the two bonded over shared obsessions with "girls, cartoons, and life." They even spent a Thanksgiving together — just two musical geniuses trading ideas away from the corporate machinery of Sony.

Mangatal shared a revealing anecdote that underscores Loren's uncredited influence. She recalled a moment in 1993 when Jackson called her, asking to dictate lyrics for a song called "Family Thing" so she could rush them to the label.

"He kept me on the phone for nearly an hour, line by line," Mangatal said. "Later that night, I told Bryan about MJ’s call — he just laughed. He told me HE had actually written the lyrics for MJ."

While Teddy Riley would ultimately define the final New Jack Swing sheen of Dangerous, Loren was instrumental in the album’s foundation. He played drums and percussion on the finished record, but his deeper contribution lived in the sessions themselves. Songs such as “Serious Effect,” featuring LL Cool J, and “She Got It” showcased a darker, funk-driven Jackson. Another track, “To Satisfy You,” was passed over for Dangerous but reclaimed by Loren for his own 1992 album Music from the New World, with Jackson still providing background vocals.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Shana Mangatal (@shanamangatal)

Loren’s most subversive success, however, arrived under unlikely circumstances. In 1990, “Do the Bartman” became a global phenomenon, topping charts and fueling the height of The Simpsons mania. The song was officially credited to Loren, but it was widely understood within the industry that Jackson — a devoted fan of the show — had co-written the track. Contractual obligations prevented Jackson’s name from appearing in the credits, leaving Loren as the public face of a hit powered by one of pop’s greatest unseen collaborations.

Beyond Jackson, Loren’s fingerprints touched much of modern R&B and pop. He wrote “Feels So Good” for Whitney Houston and worked with artists including Sting, Barry White and Eric Benét.

Following his passing, Loren’s brother, Geno Dozier, offered a poignant tribute to the man behind the music.

"My brother was his father’s son… a brilliant musician who lived his life unapologetically," Dozier said. "His talent was ELITE, and his character was true."

Bryan Loren leaves behind a catalog that helped define a generational shift. He carried the soul of Philadelphia into the digital age, helping blueprint the rhythmic language of the 1990s while remaining largely invisible to the mainstream audience he influenced.

The Wiz has left the building — but the sound he helped shape is everywhere.

‘Citizennika’: Minaj Claims Trump Gifted Her $1M Immigration Perk

In this photo posted to X, rapper Nicki Minaj holds a "Trump Gold Card" featuring the likeness of President Donald Trump. The artist, who refers to herself as "CitizenNIKA," claimed the president gifted her the card to expedite her U.S. citizenship process, waiving the typical investment fees. (Nicki Minaj via X)

The courtship between the White House and the self proclaimed Queen of Rap has moved from mutual praise to high-value policy perks.

Hours after declaring herself President Donald Trump’s "number one fan" at a Treasury Department summit, Nicki Minaj revealed she has received a "Trump Gold Card"— a premium immigration fast-pass typically reserved for wealthy investors — courtesy of the president himself.

In a social media post that sent shockwaves through both political and hip-hop circles, Minaj shared an image of the gold-hued card, which features Trump’s likeness, a bald eagle, and the Statue of Liberty. While the program usually requires a $1 million investment and a $15,000 processing fee to expedite U.S. residency, Minaj boasted that hers came "free of charge."

"Finalizing that citizenship paperwork as we speak as per MY wonderful, gracious, charming President," Minaj wrote on X (formerly Twitter). She capped the announcement with a new moniker for her era of political alignment: "CitizenNIKA."

The revelation adds a tangible, transactional layer to the rapper's recent MAGA pivot. Just a day prior, Minaj, 43, stood onstage with Trump and "Shark Tank" investor Kevin O'Leary to tout "Trump Accounts," a child investment initiative to which she pledged financial support. But the "Gold Card" gift suggests the alliance is far more personal — and potentially legally significant — than a simple celebrity endorsement.

For Minaj, who was born in Trinidad and Tobago and moved to Queens, N.Y., as a child, the path to citizenship has been a long-running narrative. In the past, she openly discussed arriving in the U.S. as an undocumented immigrant and criticized Trump’s previous hardline immigration policies, particularly family separations. Now, she appears to be bypassing the standard hurdles of the immigration system via direct presidential intervention.

The "Trump Gold Card" was introduced as a replacement for the EB-5 investor visa program, designed to offer residency to foreigners who can "substantially benefit the United States" through financial means. By waiving the seven-figure price tag for Minaj, the president has effectively designated her celebrity influence as a currency equal to the standard buy-in.

Critics have been quick to point out the stark contrast between Minaj’s VIP treatment and the administration's broader deportation efforts. Democratic strategists and online commentators argue the move highlights a two-tiered system where fame and loyalty buy access that is denied to ordinary immigrants.

Unbothered by the backlash, Minaj continues to double down. "The hate... does not affect me at all," she said at the summit. "It actually motivates me to support him more."

With "CitizenNIKA" now trending and the paperwork reportedly in motion, Minaj’s transformation from "Black Barbie" to MAGA matriarch appears complete, sealed with a golden ticket that money — or at least, her money — didn't have to buy.