The sky was gray with rain clouds as a crowd of mourners arrived at Atlanta’s State Farm Arena to celebrate the life of rapper Takeoff, the cornerstone of Migos who was shot on November 1st. The showers, Atlanta Mayor Andre Dickens would later tell us, were a good omen for a funeral, meaning Takeoff, born the Kirsnik Khari Ball, was bound for heaven.
As we filtered into single file lines at the lip of the building, we were forced to drop our phones into sealed cases that only staff could open, a reasonable request for presence and privacy, especially in light of the gruesome spectacle that death had become of Takeoff as they released videos Online. That meant that when Offset, his fellow Migo and cousin, took the stage and wept over the man in front of him in a chrome casket, his grief was bound to the arena, and we were bound to it.
“Take it,” is all he could say at first, overcome with sorrow. “I love you,” he said. “Sorry.” For several minutes, we watched him cry, many in the crowd cheering and shouting words of encouragement. Finally calling the loss unbearable and saying his heart is broken, he made a blunt admission: “I don’t want to ask you, God, but sometimes I don’t understand you.” Then, saying a prayer, he called for communion. “I have to be held,” she said so vulnerable.
Quavo and Takeoff had just released their first album as a duo, Unc & Phew, named for their family ties, on October 7th. A flag based on this record’s art, Only Built for Infinity Links, was placed on Takeoff’s coffin. While addressing a rift between the pair and Offset on a podcast last month, Takeoff left room for resolution: “We don’t know all the answers. God knows. We are praying a lot, so only time will tell. Nothing should change.”
Takeoff’s deep faith in God was invoked again and again at a memorial service where loved ones and leaders worked to process his death out loud. “This is a 28-year-old man whose life ended senselessly,” said his pastor of 18 years, Jesse Curney, III. In every way, the take off of all skill, heart and brain. “Quavo and Offset, you might be mad at me,” warned Kevin “Coach K” Lee, co-founder of Migos’ label Quality Control, “but he was the wise one.” How – why – could this happen and what should they do now? Pop stars, gospel stars, friends and family wrestled with difficult questions about this tragedy, and some found possibilities in their grief.
When Justin Bieber, a good friend of Quavo’s who has worked with Migos, took the stage for the memorial’s first performance, it seemed like he wouldn’t – couldn’t – sing. He sat restlessly on a stool while a pianist intricately played, at first, what seemed like an introduction and then what seemed like a song. Bieber didn’t move. The words that finally escaped him were shaky – a rendition of “Ghost” from his album Justice. As she sang, she stood for a moment before sitting down again, her eyes fixed on the casket. His voice steadied, then steadied, then rang. There was one last piano solo and one last formal chorus before he left.
Bieber was followed by Drake, whose particular appearance, like all the others, was not captured in the simple program, printed on the back of a collage of Takeoff photos reminiscent of the Culture album artwork. He read his prepared remarks carefully. his typical charisma was softened but not dissipated. He remembered two poems, one by Maya Angelou, but his own words carried more weight. Before recounting his days on tour with Migos in 2018, how Takeoff was zen but comes alive on stage and in sync with the group, he told a story about watching the Rat Pack – Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr and Frank Sinatra – as a kid on an old TV. “I miss being with my brothers,” Drake said. “After all these years of watching Dean Martin, I realized that I want to grow old with my friends. We need to do more of this.”
Drake had just begun to cry at the memory as he addressed Quality Control co-founder Pierre “Pee” Thomas, thanking him for the leadership he provided and the family he raised. But once she started crying with calm intensity, she didn’t stop. Pee and his partner Coach K took the stage. Pi remembered a text he received from Takeoff that personified his spirit, one from June of last year that he revisited in recent days. “We’re from nothing,” Takeoff wrote to Pee as he swung his legs again, in a moment of gratitude. “We’ve been through the storm,” he had said. “I love you.”
“I have been asking God for the last 11 days. What’s the lesson in that?” Pi wondered aloud. He left the stage without an answer, but asked the audience to keep looking.
Pee and Coach K’s remarks were followed by Offset’s shocking turn on the mic and a searing rendition of Beyonce’s “Heaven” by mentor Chloe Bailey. The song, a poignant yet confident and accepting ode to the dead, was fitting to go with Takeoff’s mother’s turn to speak. Introduced as “Mama Take,” she seemed too proud of her son to be too concerned—how that voice, that passion for music, that faith in God had been with him since he was a baby. She only trembled for a minute when she told the crowd that she would never be the same without him, but grew strong again when she thought of meeting him in heaven. “He can’t come back to me, but one day I will go to him,” she assured.
Takeoff’s mother was joined on stage by his younger brother and sister, as well as Quavo, whose speech brought a surprising calm to the memorial. He cackled at the extra-large outfits they wore – some of which were shown in a presentation on arena screens. He teased Takeoff’s mom for admonishing their love for a cheesy Hot Boys CD and bragged about winning a talent show with Takeoff at the Boys & Girls Club by performing “Get Your Roll On By” by the Big Timerz. Finally, he told an origin story that credits Takeoff with their path to stardom—rap was his blueprint. Quavo would probably play sports.
As Offset did before him, she called him the innovator of their signature triple flow, giving him the flowers he seemed ready to receive right before his death. “He was never worried about titles or credits or who got the most shine,” Quavo said. And like Takeoff’s mother before him, Quavo seemed to have found some clarity: “You’re not my nephew,” he told Takeoff, “Not my brother, but my angel.”
