Born in Seattle Washington, Raised in Bellingham 50 ft From the southbound Mile 254 I-5 sign. A tumultuous life breeds creativity in some. The middle child in a let's just say not so well off family of 5. Basketball was my first love, often times finding myself playing for hours at the school a few blocks up just to stay away from my crazy home. When I was about 12 I walked down the block and saw that my neighbor had been evicted and all of his belongings were put out on the street. The landlord told my old man that some people were coming to take it to the dump. I noticed he had an old stereo, one of those huge coffin joints that had the record player and speakers all built into one from the late 70's. I saw the speakers that were attached to it. They were 15's, old as dirt. I came up with a plan to cut the speakers off of the coffin, and take my dad's disposed old barely working reciever and hook the shit up in my room. I begged my old man to break out the saw and thank god I caught him in a good mood, he did. It took me a couple of days but I scraped up some speaker wire I got that shit hooked up in the room I shared with my sister. I was bumpin. Pops was a dead head. Mom loved all the real grimy classic rock. Loved hip hop most of my life. No sleep till brooklyn was the first joint that had me hooked. Tupac was my shit. I felt like he was the only other person I could hear that was as angry as me. Listening to his music helped me vent. Bob Marley was my church. The first rhyme I wrote I recorded over a DR DRE G THING instrumental using an old school rectangle tape recorder, adjusting the distance between my voice and the cut off coffin speakers from my broke ass but still slumpin stereo to get the proper level. I used to give the tapes to my homies. That was in 93. I was 12. This is my life.
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