One of the defining Atlanta rappers of his generation is no longer welcome here. The musician Young Thug, born Jeffery Williams, received 48 hours to leave the Atlanta metro area for the next ten years after entering a surprise guilty plea in a gang conspiracy and racketeering case last Thursday.
Once the chart-topping face of Atlanta’s ever-evolving music scene, Mr. Williams, 33, may now return only briefly, under strict circumstances: for the anti-gun and anti-gang presentations he is required to make to local youth four times annually, or for the weddings, funerals, graduations, or medical emergencies of his immediate family members.
As part of a plea deal, Mr. Williams agreed to 12 special conditions, including his banishment from his hometown, which enabled his release from jail that very evening. But can an international hip-hop star pick up where he left off under a new set of strict provisions that could reshape his lyrics, persona, and pool of collaborators?
According to experts, the length and intensity of Mr. Williams’s probation could present complications down the line, given the requirements of his profession and the vagueness or subjectivity of some of the rules that now govern his life.
Because Mr. Williams’s lawyers and prosecutors could not agree on a sentence even after he pleaded guilty, the judge in the case, who had full discretion to choose a punishment, decided on time served and 15 years of probation, with an additional 20 years of prison time looming if he violates the agreement.
Along the way, Mr. Williams must consent to searches at any time, submit to random drug tests, refrain from in any way promoting gangs, and avoid associating with known gang members, with the exception of his brother, the musician Quantavious Grier, also known as Unfoonk, and Sergio Kitchens, also known as Gunna, a rapper under Mr. Williams’s label.
“You don’t often see probation for these kinds of charges,” said Fiona Doherty, a professor at Yale Law School who has written about the probation system. “These are supercharged conditions of probation, used as a plea bargaining tool to get out of prison.”
“Because of that,” Ms. Doherty added, “the person doesn’t have a lot of leverage, and they chose to subject themselves to conditions that make them very vulnerable to incarceration going forward.”
Ms. Doherty drew attention to Mr. Williams’s waiver of his Fourth Amendment rights, which permits the search of his “person, residence, vehicles, and electronics” at any time, even without reasonable suspicion. This waiver “invites enormous policing powers during these 15 years,” she said. “That is a very significant decision to give up those rights. This is a common occurrence in the probation context, highlighting the significantly restricted freedom that probationers have in comparison to others.
A lawyer for Mr. Williams, Brian Steel, said after sentencing last week that he would have preferred to hold out for a jury verdict, but that the much-delayed trial — already the longest in Georgia history — was “holding this man hostage.” Mr. Steel said that his client had even rejected an earlier deal from prosecutors, which would have “let him out of custody,” because “they would have a tether around him so tight that it’s unconscionable.”
However, the Fulton County judge, Paige Reese Whitaker, imposed strict guidelines in his ruling, prompting worries that Mr. Williams’ performance of his previously released music, some of which served as evidence, might violate the prohibition against using “any hand sign, terminology, or language that promotes or represents any criminal street gang, directly or indirectly.” The trial repeatedly linked his trademark subject matter and go-to slang, like “slatt” and “slime,” to gang culture.
Judge Whitaker said in court that while the rap industry resembled “a modern-day version of WWE wrestling,” complete with posturing and exaggeration, “it has tremendous impact on kids and young people, who think, ‘This is cool; this is what I want to do.'”
The vagueness of the rules could prove challenging, said James M. Binnall, a professor of law and criminality at California State University, Long Beach, who has focused on probation and parole.
“If you’re describing your criminal lifestyle as a street gang member in the past, that’s different than promoting it, right?” he said. Is it permissible for him to recount his past life as a street gang member? Does that amount to promotion? He can’t comply with these conditions unless he knows what is or is not allowable.”
Mr. Binnall said such questions, while potentially addressable in future probation modification requests, might “create a situation where it’s going to be nearly impossible for him to comply with all of these rules for 15 years.”