Connor Price knows how to engineer a moment. His rise—from child actor to independent rapper to viral social media strategist—didn’t just happen. He built it. Every skit, every punchline, every globe spin was carefully executed in the chaos of his home studio. It’s not luck. It’s obsession-level control.
Which is why it’s surprising—and honestly, kind of refreshing—that the part of his life he’s currently focused on is the one thing he can’t engineer: his faith.
“I’m on a journey,” he says, already cringing at how cliché that sounds. “I know that’s a corny way to put it. But that’s what it is.”
This isn’t a rebrand. There’s no Christian artist rollout coming. In fact, Price is quick to say he doesn’t know where he lands right now. He was raised Catholic. He went to church. He prayed. Then, like a lot of people, he just… stopped.
“I didn’t identify as Christian, or Catholic, or atheist,” he says. “I was just kind of in the middle. And I got tired of being in the middle.”
Middle is easy. It lets you nod along with whoever you’re talking to—God talk with the Christians, skepticism with the doubters. But eventually, that kind of ambiguity gets exhausting. And Price, who’s built an entire career on knowing exactly what he wants, decided he was done hedging.
So he started asking questions. And for the first time in his life, he bought a Bible.
“I started at the beginning,” he laughs. “Genesis. And someone was like, ‘Why would you do that?’ I was like, ‘Where else would I start?’ I genuinely didn’t know.”
He’s figuring it out in real time—reading, talking to friends, asking questions he never bothered to before. And for a guy whose career has been defined by precision, stepping into this kind of uncertainty is no small thing.
“I think for a long time, I’ve just avoided the conversation altogether,” he says. “But now I want to have it. I want to understand what I believe—not just say what people want to hear.”
Some of that wrestling has already made its way into his lyrics. On his viral collaboration “UP?” with Forrest Frank, Price raps, “Mind your business now who I worship”—a preemptive answer to the inevitable flood of assumptions that come with even being in the same room as a Christian artist.
“I knew people were going to label me,” he says. “But I’m not ready to claim that yet. I’m still sorting through it.”
He’s not doing it alone. Friends like Frank, Nick D and his producer Graham have become unexpected guides—people who are rooted in their faith but not pushy about it.
“I’ve had conversations with them that I’ve never had with anyone before,” Price says. “It’s new for me, but it’s been helpful.”
Helpful, but not conclusive. And that’s the whole point.
“There’s this weird expectation that once you show any interest in faith, you’re automatically in,” he says. “Like, you can’t have questions or uncertainty. But that’s where I’m at. That’s real.”
For now, he’s letting that tension breathe. He’s not trying to package his spirituality or turn it into a talking point. He’s just trying to get somewhere honest.
“I believe in a God,” he says. “But when do I get to call myself a Christian? Do I have to be baptized again? Do I have to be completely sure? I don’t know.”
What he does know is that he’s done pretending to be neutral. He’s done staying quiet because it’s easier. And that honesty—messy as it is—might be the most compelling thing he’s shared yet.
“I’m not there,” Price says. “But I want to be. And that feels like a good place to start.”
