YG wasn’t exactly built for soloists. The company thrived on groups—BIGBANG was shaking up the charts, 2NE1 was rewriting what a girl group could be, and even WINNER and iKON were starting to carve their own legacies. But somehow, you slipped through the cracks.

Not as an afterthought. Not as some experiment. You were just too damn good to ignore.

Debuting under YG meant walking into a world of expectations. You had to be cool, effortless, the kind of artist who didn’t just perform but made people stop and watch. And that’s exactly what you did. Your sound? A mix of sharp hip-hop beats and smooth R&B. Your stage presence? Effortless. Untouchable. You weren’t trying to prove anything—you just belonged.

Now, years later, your name still carries weight. The ones who grew up watching you debut? They’re idols now. And whether they admit it or not, they studied your performances, memorized your moves, and hoped—just a little—that they’d have even half of your presence on stage.

You never needed a group. YG’s first true soloist in a world built for teams, and somehow, you made it work.