
Steven Williams’ rapper name was FMG (family, money, grinding) Smurff, and his songs involved teaching young kids how not to follow in his footsteps.
After dropping out of high school and having his first child at age 18, Steven understood the importance of earning his GED and setting a better example for his family.
“His kids — they changed him. They made him a responsible person,” his mother, LaShonda Williams, remembered.
Steven emotionally shut down as a teenager while his parents were going through a separation. The family had moved to Jamison to leave the inner city behind, but Steven missed his friends and the energy of Philadelphia. As a biracial kid, Steven was questioned by his suburban peers about where he fit in.
Only later, after Steven left Central Bucks South High School and spent a couple years living with relatives and working in construction, was he able to rebuild his relationship with his mother and articulate his childhood trauma.
“I raised my son and I never knew him until he got older,” LaShonda explained.
After he became a father, Steven served as a male role model for the young boys in his housing project, Hill Creek Apartments in Northeast Philadelphia, taking them to the playground or to fly drones.
But LaShonda knew that her son felt burdened trying to “save the world.” “You could always just see that he was worried about something,” she said.
On February 8, 2021, Steven and his longtime girlfriend, Jehesel Garcia Colon, 23, were in their bedroom with their five-year-old son, Christian, when an intruder fatally shot the couple. Police arrived shortly before 1 a.m. to the home in the 500 block of West Hill Creek Drive in Olney to find Jehesel on the floor and Steven lying in bed. Both were pronounced dead at the scene. Christian was unharmed.
No arrests have been made, but LaShonda believes that the suspect (now deceased) was a former family friend retaliating after a domestic dispute. Steven is buried in Greenmount Cemetery.
“He was going to be a big spirit and his life was cut short by someone he called his brother,” she said. “I still believe in my heart that my son knew that something was going to happen to him. He had this strangeness that he was living out his last days.”
LaShonda and Steven’s father, Steven Ronald Williams, are now raising Christian in Holmesburg. Steven also has a 5-year-old daughter, Alaina, who lives with her mother.
Following Steven’s death, LaShonda was driving Christian through North Philadelphia when a stray bullet from an assault rifle missed the boy’s head and grazed his left arm. Christian’s parents were looking out for him that day, LaShonda said.
Christian, now 6, scoffs at peas and calls LaShonda’s name six times before he tells her what he needs—just like his late father.
“I look at him and I’m like, I got a second chance,” LaShonda said. “It’s a blessing and a curse.”

Born on November 25, 1996 in Northeast Philadelphia, young Steven was a “ball of confusion,” who tried every sport, sketched cartoon characters and assembled a modeling portfolio for a New York talent agency, LaShonda remembered. He pivoted from one pursuit to the next, but settled on shooting hoops and slept with a basketball in his hands. He stopped playing in high school, after injuring his shoulder.
Although Steven was tiny with freckles everywhere — his family nicknamed him “little” after Chicken Little — he sprouted to 5 feet 8 inches tall as a teen, and was committed to working out, running every morning and drinking six raw eggs for breakfast.
Steven came from a large family and enjoyed hanging out with his siblings and cousins at the skating rink, bowling alley or movies. He was the youngest of four siblings — Shantalay, 30; Briayana, 27; and Steven II, 26 — and relished going fishing with his father and helping out with his home remodeling business. Steven would climb on the roof because his dad was afraid of heights.
Steven gave “superhero love,” LaShonda recalled, and got a kick out of making everyone laugh, especially when he imitated her frowning. As a boy, he dressed in subdued polo shirts before graduating to neon pink sweatshirts and loud patterns.
“One minute he is shy,” LaShonda remembered. “But then when all eyes are on him, he’s putting on a show for them.”

Steven’s final Thanksgiving was spent with his extended family in a Florida beach house dining on seafood. Given the holiday’s problematic history related to the treatment of indigenous peoples, the Williams clan decided to rename it “Familygiving.” Last year, Steven’s birthday fell on Familygiving, and the family held a ’90s bash in his honor.
Although Steven was too young to remember the 1990s, he appreciated retro hits. Growing up in a music-filled household, Steven admired Aretha Franklin, Michael Jackson, Jay-Z and Tupac Shakur. Steven’s father is a cousin of Philadelphia rapper Meek Mill.
Steven began rapping around age 13, filling up composition books with his atrocious handwriting, LaShonda recalled. Initially, Steven exaggerated his humble upbringing, writing lyrics about living with roaches and rats in the projects, until LaShonda threatened to record her own rap setting the record straight.
As Steven matured, he began singing about his life’s struggles in his smooth, powerful voice — more “in tune about trying to teach the youth something,” his mother said.
FMG started a music “movement,” she continued, with Steven’s cousins adopting the acronym. Shortly before his death, Steven recorded a song at the Jersey Shore, urging others to persevere in life just as the ocean is never-ending.
“He’s not angry or sad,” LaShonda said. “He’s woke.”
Resources are available for people and communities that have endured gun violence in Philadelphia. Click here for more information.
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