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Story & Lesson Highlights with Cortez Currie of Orangemound

Cortez Currie shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.

Cortez, so good to connect and we’re excited to share your story and insights with our audience. There’s a ton to learn from your story, but let’s start with a warm up before we get into the heart of the interview. What do you think is misunderstood about your business? 
What’s misunderstood about my business is people think it’s just street music, just books, or just unaccomplished hustle. They see the output but miss the infrastructure.
This ain’t vibes-only entrepreneurship. This is ownership, systems, and long-game thinking. I’m not chasing moments — I’m building catalogs, IP, metadata, trusts, and leverage. Music is the front door, books are the blueprint, and the business is the engine. Most folks only understand the art part; they don’t realize the real work is making sure the art outlives me and feeds my people without permission from anyone.
Another thing people get wrong is they think I’m trying to dodge the system. Nah. I studied it. I learned how it works, where it’s fair, where it’s predatory, and how to move clean inside it. That’s why everything I do is documented, registered, and structured. That’s not paranoia — that’s maturity.
At the end of the day, my business is about turning survival into ownership. Once you understand that, everything I do makes sense.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
Absolutely.
My name is Cortez “Godfellow” Currie. I’m an artist, author, and entrepreneur building at the intersection of music, literature, and ownership. I come from Memphis roots with real-life experience that taught me early on that talent without structure gets exploited. So my work has always been about more than expression — it’s about control, legacy, and self-determination.
As an artist, I create emotionally honest music rooted in storytelling — not hype, not gimmicks. As an author, I write from lived experience. My first book, The Lick and the Score, blends street logic with strategic thinking, and my upcoming memoir Impossible 2 I’m Possible dives deeper into resilience, accountability, and transformation. Both are extensions of the same mission: turning hard-earned lessons into something that can guide others.
What makes my brand different is that it’s built, not borrowed. I own my catalog, I run my publishing, and I design my business to last beyond trends or platforms. I’m intentional about how my name, my work, and my story live in the world — from metadata and publishing to trust structures and licensing. That’s not common, especially for creators who come from environments where survival comes first.
Right now, I’m focused on expanding my catalog for sync and licensing, releasing new music that reflects growth and vulnerability, and preparing my memoir for a January 1, 2026 release. Everything I’m doing points toward one thing: creating art that lives, pays, and teaches long after I’m gone.

Amazing, so let’s take a moment to go back in time. What’s a moment that really shaped how you see the world?
One moment that really shaped how I see the world was realizing, at a young age, that nobody was coming to save me — but a lot of people were willing to profit off me if I stayed unaware.
Growing up, I saw talent everywhere — smart, creative people with real potential — but I also saw how systems chew people up when they don’t understand the rules. I watched hard workers lose everything because they trusted the wrong voices, signed the wrong papers, or moved off emotion instead of strategy. That stuck with me. It taught me early that intention without knowledge is dangerous.
At the same time, I saw resilience. I saw people survive things that should’ve broken them. That’s where my worldview comes from: life isn’t fair, but it is teachable. Once you understand patterns — in people, money, power — you stop reacting and start choosing.
That moment flipped a switch in me. I stopped just wanting to “make it” and started wanting to understand it. That’s what pushed me toward writing, toward business, toward owning my work instead of just creating it. Everything I do now traces back to that realization: survival is step one, but mastery is the goal.

If you could say one kind thing to your younger self, what would it be?
I’d tell my younger self this:
“You’re not broken — you’re early.”
I spent a long time thinking something was wrong with me because the path didn’t look smooth, because lessons came hard, and because progress didn’t come with applause. I’d tell him that the confusion, the pressure, the setbacks — all of that was training, not punishment.
I’d also tell him to stop carrying guilt for things he didn’t yet have the tools to navigate. You can’t judge a younger version of yourself with information you only gained later. Growth doesn’t erase the struggle; it explains it.
Most of all, I’d tell him to be patient with his own evolution. Everything he survives is shaping the clarity he’ll one day lead with. And when it finally clicks, he won’t just win — he’ll understand why.

Sure, so let’s go deeper into your values and how you think. What’s a cultural value you protect at all costs?
Culturally I’m always going to protect my voice, my ideas, and the ability to be duplicated in a way you can’t tell the difference. One thing I do know we can create the culture; bend the will of it to ourselves.

Before we go, we’d love to hear your thoughts on some longer-run, legacy type questions. What will you regret not doing? 
Nothing. I would regret doing “Nothing” because we must do “Something” we must win somehow. If we are all born with gifts and talents then we are born to “Win”

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Image Credits
– Godfellow

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