RXMZ’s Bro Code maps London’s underside, directed by Hot Money.

The beat wasn’t supposed to lead anywhere. Trinz, whose fingerprints run through records by Central Cee, Digga D, and Kwengface, looped it at Hot Money Studios in East London, and RXMZ walked into the booth with nothing mapped out. “I just let my thoughts flow,” he says. Half improvised, half pulled from notes on his phone, the words tumbled out in one take. It sounded less like a demo and more like a transmission caught mid-signal. That was the birth of Bro Code.

The next day, Hot Money himself had a camera running. Hackney backstreets, the hard edges of West Ham Stadium, the vast glass of the Olympic Park settings spliced to mirror the artist’s own split. A teenager from Perth, Scotland, Turkish-Scottish heritage, now shaping through London’s rap corridors. Corners still clinging to him, ambition refusing to sit quietly in the background.

Bro Code is one verse, straight through. No chorus to cushion it, no clever pivot to sell it. It isn’t designed for the shuffle of a playlist. It’s heavier, hungrier. RXMZ is 17, which makes the weight of his delivery land harder. He isn’t acting seasoned he is young and it bleeds through but there’s no mistaking the authority.

“There’s no scene in Perth. It’s just the sticks,” he laughs, remembering the absence that forced him to invent. Drill, grime, trap he tried them all. Not with the tidy packaging of a genre-bender, but with the clatter of someone using whatever tools he could get his hands on. By 14 he was rapping into his phone with friends, uploading to TikTok. By 15 he had made it into a studio. By 16, his SoundCloud cut “Anything Red” was travelling. At 17, he started to visit London and recording full-time.

Growing up, the background wasn’t quiet. “People getting shot, knives, drugs. I saw it all at twelve,” he says flatly. Those images shape his music, but not in the way of drill mythology. He doesn’t glorify; he documents. The verses carry paranoia, ambition, flashes of dark humour. The balance is unstable by design. One bar clenches, the next exudes defiance. The effect is the sound of someone moving too fast to be boxed in.

Outside of music, RXMZ once poured himself into sport. Rugby, basketball. Injuries closed that lane, and rap became the only one that made sense. Now he’s thinking wider: a personal brand cut from the same streetwear he already lives in. Tracksuits, clean fits, his own line on the horizon. Not merch as an afterthought, but a way of staking out identity.

Back inside the booth, the collaboration with Trinz. A platinum producer, a teenager just out of the sticks, colliding without rehearsal. Hot Money’s video ties it all together with a cinematographer’s eye. But what makes Bro Code stick is that RXMZ still sounds like he’s breaking in rather than settling down. The hunger is there, but so is a streak of unpredictability.

“Everyone sticks to one thing. I’m making drill, grime, this and that,” he says. The refusal to narrow himself is the point. Bro Code arrives after “Anything Red,” but it doesn’t play like a follow-up. It sounds like a pivot, a sharpening. He sounds more deliberate, but no less restless.

His targets are blunt. First the UK, then the US. “Hopefully popping,” he grins. “UK and America, that’s the goal.”

Bro Code is an early document, but it doesn’t feel disposable. It captures the tension of an artist still forming in real time, not yet polished, but already commanding awareness. RXMZ doesn’t arrive with a strategy, he arrives with presence. One verse, one take, and a single that feels like an opening shot in a much longer game.