When a supporter recently shared on X, “bbno$ is my favorite rapper why does he have to be so harsh towards AI artists? 🥺🥺,” the Canadian artist did not provide a soft explanation. Rather, he shot back with a straightforward and clear reply: “FUCK AI.”

This kind of direct honesty is what characterizes bbno$ (pronounced “baby no money”) — the viral rapper appreciated for his absurd humor alongside his detailed approach to self-directed artistry. Beneath the all-caps curse lies a distinct viewpoint: In a time when algorithms can generate songs, images, and videos quicker than any human could, he opts to invest in individuals.

This decision is prominently featured in his latest video for “ADD,” a vibrant and dynamic collage created entirely from fan-generated animations. Rather than outsourcing the work to a studio or using generative tools, bbno$ collaborated with over 20 independent artists — many of whom had previously produced fan art of him online — to animate the visuals. The outcome is a whirlwind of diverse animation styles interwoven, with each segment serving as a small tribute from one creator to another.

“There’s two parts to it,” he shared with Mashable at TwitchCon 2025, coinciding with the release of his self-titled ninth studio album. “One, when individuals dedicate their entire lives to mastering something, it feels off when a simple click can produce something that’s more significant. So I just wanted to give back to the community that has shown me plenty of love.”

The other aspect is even more straightforward: bbno$ finds greater satisfaction in supporting individuals and handmade art. “It genuinely makes me feel good when I’m backing other artists, because I’m an artist myself,” he elaborates. “I remember when I wasn’t making any money — it’s such a thrilling experience when you finally do. So if I can assist other artists in achieving that, I want to.”

The “ADD” project required six months to finalize, which is an enormous commitment for a three-minute track. However, the result was both a visual marvel and a creative statement: evidence that collaboration among 23 distinct minds, each contributing their unique quirks and artistic perspectives, could yield something no machine could duplicate.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get another visual piece that’s as stimulating as that again,” he confesses. “Because it was 20 different individuals, twenty different thoughts.”

That kind of passion has long contributed to bbno$’s charm. His musical repertoire, featuring playful tracks like “Lalala” with Y2K as well as more avant-garde pieces, thrives on a sense of human unpredictability that algorithms fail to replicate. Even as he embraces internet virality, there’s an undercurrent of self-awareness. He recognizes the humor, but he’s also deeply committed to his craft.

His skepticism towards AI is not born from a fear of change but from compassion for working artists. In a time where tech companies are investing billions into AI music and video technologies, and where artists’ work is being harvested to train these systems, bbno$ focuses on the individuals behind the art.

“Large corporations are beginning to employ AI and software to displace jobs,” he states. “One of my closest friends works at Amazon, and he mentioned, ‘I have a call with India. I’m presenting something that’s unfortunately going to displace many jobs.’ He realizes it’s unfortunate, but he also needs to earn a living. That’s just how things are developing. I’m merely trying to contribute in whatever way I can.”

It’s not a battle against technology — bbno$ has built his career online, after all — but rather an effort to maintain a certain creative integrity that is becoming increasingly threatened. Nowadays, art is data, and he’s striving to keep the human element thriving. “To keep people motivated, to keep the train on track,” he states, “you have to support them. That’s the only way.”

There’s also a philosophical theme here: bbno$ has always excelled in collaboration. His initial success stemmed from meme-driven partnerships with producers like Y2K and Diamond Pistols, and more recently, his output has escalated to near-weekly releases, relying on a global network of creators, artists, editors, and fans. His entire career exemplifies the creative potentials of the digital age, where art is crafted by humans, not software.

“I’ve never been one to overload my videos with effects,” he shares. “If I do, it must be something that took a year to create, not just something you plug in.” This principle extends beyond visuals; it influences his songwriting, content production, and even his distinctive humor. Everything has a slightly imperfect quality, but that’s what makes it relatable.

The irony, of course, is that AI could easily