You’d be hard-pressed to find another artist who lights a baseball-bat-sized spliff in front of a sold-out O2, while lifting his trousers to reveal an ankle tag. The act earns Nines a £5,000 fine – but he shrugs: “What’s five grand to a trap star like me?” Smoke billows across the screens as Weedman plays.

This is supposedly the final gig by the west London rapper, who announced his retirement aged 34 with Quit While You’re Ahead, his sixth album in a row to reach the UK Top 5. It was a cohesive body of work, but it lacked a real explanation as to why he’s turning his back on music. Devoted to authentic expressions of himself and the world around him, he always felt free from commercial motives and conventional career arcs.

The stage becomes a Galápagos Island to study Nines’ evolution: how he’s laid his life bare for 12 years. The opening two tracks, Trapper of the Year and Trapstar, introduce a grungy live band whose distortion amplifies the street-hardened feel. Recent single Tony Soprano 3 gets as rapturous a reception as the classic Clout, a testament to a loyal fanbase.

Halfway through, Nines teases snippets of 11 classic hits, including AJ’D Out, Tap Dat, Can’t Blame Me, and Money on My Mind, but the highlight is his full Fire in the Booth freestyle. Its coarseness, narrative depth and punchlines capture Nines’ influence on UK rap in the early 2010s. At points throughout, his mic is occasionally drowned out by the backing, but he reloads the track to ensure the full experience lands.

He is joined by a glittering array of his peers: Nafe Smalls for Realist, NSG during Airplane Mode, and Tiggs Da Author for Yay and Oh My, with SL also joining the latter. But when he brings out K-Trap and Skrapz, they play their own biggest hits – Warm and One More Chance Freestyle respectively. Even though the crowd loves it, their solo performances feel incongruous at a Nines show, especially considering Skrapz features on the majority of Nines’ albums and mixtapes.

As he closes with CR and I See You Shining, it doesn’t feel like the close of a rap career, and only his DJ hints at his retirement. Nines feels too distinctive to fall into the tired “farewell/comeback tour” cliche, but this enjoyable celebration of his discography lacks the gravitas of a true final show.