Hip-hop has always been a voice for the unheard — a canvas for identity, resistance, and truth. Few artists today embody that intersection more fully than jbbrsh, the Bengali-American rapper who’s carving out a space for South Asian voices in the ever-evolving rap scene. With a name as unconventional as his sound, jbbrsh (pronounced “jibberish”) is redefining what it means to be an immigrant kid with bars — and culture to back it up.
We caught up with the Austin-raised, LA-based artist to talk about his roots, his sound, and how his dual heritage drives both his grind and his gratitude.
Prove Magazine: jbbrsh, where are you originally from? We know you’re an Indian-American rapper, but more specifically, you’re recognized as a Bengali-American artist.
jbbrsh: I’m born and raised in Austin, Texas. I moved to LA two years ago to really pursue this rap game seriously. But yeah, my roots run deep — my family is from Chittagong in Bangladesh. I visit Bangladesh every year or so, so I stay very in tune with my culture.
Prove: Being in tune with your culture and also the culture of hip-hop, how does your heritage influence the type of music you’re creating?
jbbrsh: My culture influences my music heavily. I’ve sampled old Bengali folk songs — like in my track Bideshi, I sampled “Kota de la” (Kotha Dilam). The word “Bideshi” means “foreigner” in Bengali, which is ironic, because it sounds like “Bangladeshi.” I wrote Bideshi to reflect what it means to be a Bengali born abroad — still repping the culture, still drawing from it.
It’s not just the samples, though. I go back to Bangladesh every year. I’ve seen extreme poverty and rapid development. My grandfather came from a village with no electricity and made it to the Ministry of Commerce. That grind, that rise — it’s embedded in me. It gives me perspective, and it shapes everything — from my sound to the gratitude I carry.
Prove: That’s powerful. Let’s talk about your name — jbbrsh. And just to confirm, it’s pronounced “jibberish,” right?
jbbrsh: Yeah, exactly — it’s “jibberish,” just stylized as jbbrsh. The name actually came from my uncle, who’s a record producer back in Bangladesh. He used to call me “Jib Jab Jibberish” when I was a kid, just goofing around. But it stuck. It felt playful, witty, and fun — very me.
My real name is Jibraan, so the “J” is from that. It started as “Jibberish” spelled out, but people kept misspelling it — even college grads [laughs]. That’s not great for SEO, so I cleaned it up. Now it’s jbbrsh — clean, catchy, and still meaningful. I want it to be one of those names people start using as slang, like “Yo, you heard that new jibberish?” That’s the vision.
Prove: You occupy such a unique lane in hip-hop. Does blending your heritage with your music ever feel like a balancing act?
jbbrsh: It’s more like a bridge than a balance. I don’t force anything — my culture is already in me. It shows up in the way I talk, think, create. Whether it’s sampling Bengali instruments like sitars or weaving in family stories, it’s authentic.
Yeah, I walk two worlds — but I don’t see them as separate. I bring them together. That’s where the uniqueness is. In Villages, I talk about how it took a village to raise me — literally. My grandfather came from one. That song’s about giving back, about community, which is huge in Bengali culture. Big families, shared meals, helping each other — I want that spirit in my music.
Prove: Rap has always been about telling personal stories. What messages or struggles do you most want to bring to the mic?
jbbrsh: For me, it’s about showing both the struggle and the strength. Growing up Bengali-American — watching your parents grind, trying to make sense of life here — that story doesn’t get told enough.
I’ve touched on a lot in my work. I dropped a BLM track during the lockdown, speaking out on justice and equality. I’ve also talked about mental health, depression, love, loss — topics that are universal. I want my music to make people feel seen, less alone.
And I always come back to gratitude — for family, for what my parents gave up, for the life I get to live. In Bengali culture, family is everything. It’s not just about you — it’s about your people. I try to honor that every time I record.
Prove: With hip-hop expanding globally, what does it mean to be a Bengali rapper in today’s game?
jbbrsh: It means you’re building something that hasn’t really existed before. There’s no blueprint — and that’s exciting. I’m not trying to copy anyone. I’m creating something that’s mine: Bengali folk meets West Coast bounce, Texas swagger, and immigrant perspective.
Hip-hop is about truth. And my truth is this: I’m the product of two worlds. That’s what makes my voice different. And I think people are hungry for something real — for something they haven’t heard before.
Prove: Let’s talk tracks. You’ve mentioned Bideshi, Villages, Gulshan King — what do those songs say about who jbbrsh is?
jbbrsh: Those songs are my DNA. Bideshi is all about identity — being born abroad but still connected. Villages is about community, remembering where you came from. Gulshan King is aspiration — Gulshan‘s like the Beverly Hills of Bangladesh, and that track’s about dreaming big.
I produced most of those myself, too. Even the Upo House Remix — that’s a flip I did of a track by this dope Bengali artist I met. I love collaborating with South Asian creators. That’s part of the movement I’m trying to build.
jbbrsh isn’t just adding South Asian flavor to hip-hop — he’s laying down a whole new foundation. His ability to honor heritage while pushing sonic boundaries speaks to a generation caught between cultures and craving connection. As his beats spread and bars hit deeper, one thing’s clear: jbbrsh isn’t just making noise — he’s rewriting the language of rap, one syllable at a time.
— Prove Magazine
Connect With jbbrsh:
