USF basketball star Khalil Shabazz was sifting through OutKast records at Amoeba Music in San Francisco when he was asked the question hip-hop lovers have had for well over a decade: Why did André 3000 stop making music?
“I don’t know, man,” Shabazz said as he surveyed the cover of OutKast’s 1998 album, “Aquemini.” “That’s the thing about music: You don’t really have to retire. You have to retire from basketball, but you can always make music.”
Shabazz, 23, should know. As he established himself as one of the West Coast Conference’s top players the past few years, he jotted down lyrics on his iPhone whenever inspiration struck: during class, on team flights, even in the pregame locker room.
What started as a passing hobby has slowly blossomed into something more. Though basketball remains his primary focus, Shabazz has begun to build a following as Lil Bazzy — a rapper with two EPs, a music video and a recent performance opening for a platinum-selling artist.
This was all part of Shabazz’s plan when he spurned bigger-conference programs and professional opportunities overseas to return to USF for his final year of eligibility. Not only do the NCAA’s revamped NIL regulations allow him to make extra money for studio time, but his new endorsement deals help him curate his personal brand.
The photo shoots Shabazz does for high-protein cereal Ceres and Australian apparel company Zanerobe provide him experience in front of the camera. Should he need some more cash to finish an EP, he can just pick up an appearance at a kid’s birthday party or donor event through USF’s booster group, the Hilltop Club.
“A huge reason I came back was just being able to have those opportunities and being able to have money in my pocket to build my own brand for the future,” Shabazz said. “NIL’s been big for me.”
That is clear listening to his music. In fall 2021, right at the dawn of NIL, Shabazz released his first EP, “Working With What I Got.” Though his rapping is forceful and candid, the production quality doesn’t sound nearly as professional as his latest EP, “Finding Myself,” released in September.
Shabazz is the first to admit as much. The inspiration behind the title, “Working With What I Got” was the fact that he recorded those six songs in closets with foam padding — not quite an ideal setup.
“Finding Myself” was recorded in a professional studio with the help of a sound engineer who has worked with multiple Grammy-winning artists. This speaks to the power of NIL, but also to Shabazz’s networking abilities.
Since transferring to USF from Division II Central Washington in summer 2018, Shabazz has ingrained himself in the Bay Area’s hip-hop scene. Lil Bean, a San Francisco rapper with well more than 150,000 monthly listeners on Spotify, is a close confidant who attends Shabazz’s games, offers feedback on songs and invites him to studio sessions.
In Shabazz, Lil Bean sees his younger self. Back when he was known as Jason Smith, Lil Bean was a high-scoring guard at Marshall High School in San Francisco who went on to play at City College of San Francisco. About a half-decade ago, when his song “Down 2 Ride” received thousands of listens in its first day on SoundCloud, Smith realized that his future was in rap, not basketball.
“I tell (Shabazz) all the time, ‘It wasn’t that long ago that I was trying to be in your shoes and get on at a D-I,’” Lil Bean said. “I was doing the same thing as him, playing basketball and making music. The music thing kind of just took off for me instead of the basketball.”
Shabazz’s music career has gained significant momentum over the past year, but it isn’t about to eclipse basketball as his top priority. He has already cemented himself as one of the greatest players in modern USF hoops. A quick-footed guard with a smooth shooting stroke and an expanding arsenal of moves, Shabazz ranks third in program history in 3-pointers made (223) and fourth in steals (187).
Now, with longtime backcourt partner Jamaree Bouyea on the Miami Heat’s G League affiliate, Shabazz aims to lead the Dons to their second straight NCAA Tournament for the first time since the early 1980s. As of Thursday, he was averaging career-highs in assists (3.9), rebounds (5.5) and steals (2.4) for an 8-2 team while scoring 13.9 points per game. It’s a season that should make him more attractive to NBA scouts. When he declared for the draft in the spring before eventually returning to school, not one team invited him in for a workout.
This just motivated Shabazz, who is accustomed to being overlooked. As he strolled through USF’s campus last month, he recalled traveling with his Central Washington team to conference rival Alaska-Fairbanks, where moose stopped traffic and it was dark almost all day.
“Weirdest trip ever,” said Shabazz, who was named the Great Northwest Athletic Conference’s Freshman of the Year during his lone season at CWU after receiving no other college offers out of high school. “Not going to lie, I don’t miss those days.”
Few can blame him. With USF, Shabazz has gotten opportunities that extend well beyond basketball. Perhaps his two most memorable rap performances — a show at the Dons’ Midnight Madness event last fall, and a spot opening for ex-USF hooper and renowned reggae artist Michael Franti — happened through his campus connections.
Dons head coach Chris Gerlufsen called Shabazz’s experience “the epitome of what college should be about: finding yourself not just as an athlete, but as a person.” That process of self-discovery plays out in his music. In his song “Therapy Freestyle,” Lil Bazzy raps about being raised in a rough neighborhood of South Seattle by a single mother who depended on EBT cards to put food on the table.
That same track, which lasts about 4½ minutes, touches on how his father’s absence shaped him; how he got good grades as a kid despite getting in fights after school; and why he regrets how he handled past relationships. Standing in the hip-hop section of Amoeba Music on Haight Street in a gray USF sweatsuit, Shabazz took a break from browsing records to reflect on his rap style.
“It’s just about being raw and just rapping my lights out, basically,” Shabazz said. “That’s why I call that one song ‘Therapy Freestyle.’ Rap is really therapy for me.”
Though Shabazz has been writing raps since high school, he didn’t start to take it seriously until the COVID-19 pandemic. To pass quarantine, he recorded in a makeshift studio at the San Francisco apartment of his friend, former Warriors forward Marquese Chriss.
Shabazz estimates that he wrote 20 to 25 songs at Chriss’ apartment, about 10 of which were recorded. As Chriss ping-ponged around the NBA the past couple of years, he followed his buddy’s basketball and music careers closely, impressed by the progress he sees.
“I don’t think that the whole stereotype of basketball players trying to be rappers is ever going to fully go away,” Chriss said. “But thanks to guys like Khalil and (Oakland-born Trail Blazers guard) Damian Lillard, maybe it can have a little less of a negative connotation around it.”
After sorting through the records of more than a dozen of his favorite rappers, Shabazz made the 15-minute walk back to the Sobrato Center. Greeting him near the gym’s main entrance was a big poster with his likeness on it that detailed USF’s schedule.
The next afternoon, Shabazz flew to Kansas City, Mo., for the Hall of Fame Classic, where he guided the Dons to wins over Northern Iowa and Wichita State. More experiences. More material for his art.
Connor Letourneau is a San Francisco Chronicle staff writer. Email: cletourneau@sfchronicle.com Twitter: @Con_Chron