Post by thesouthsidekid on Mar 9, 2007 17:58:46 GMT -5
Part 1: Source of Passion from an unlikely palce.
Detroit, Michigan. The last 48 hours have been a blur to me. How the hell did I end up here? I’m not sure myself. But here I am nonetheless. I guess I needed a break from West Virginia.
Ah………………… Detroit.
I’ve been through Detroit, and to be honest, it’s not that great. Yeah ok, so the Pistons are pretty good and the Tigers have been getting progressively better and well, no one talks about the Lions. Who can blame them? But this isn’t about the sports teams. It’s about the city. I found myself on a greyhound bus, pulling into the bus station. Yes that’s right, I said a greyhound bus. I’m a professional wrestler here, and I can afford a private jet, but I’m on a bus. When it came to a stop, I had just awoken from a small nap. I was still trying to get my bearings in order. I stood up and grabbed my small bag I had with me. I tried to stretch my legs, and I felt a sharp pain go through my head. It was almost unbearable as it almost brought me to my knees, but I stood up and tried to press on.
I stepped off the greyhound bus, and immediately I was overtaken by the smell of piss on this could night. The smell overtook my nostrils and immediately I thought to myself Damn, couldn’t they wait to go to the bathroom!! Not too good on my headache from hell. To get away from the smell, I walked toward the door to the station. I was parched and I needed some water. Maybe that would do the trick. I began to sift through my side bag for some Advil. I found a bottle. I opened it up and two pills were left. Bingo, now some water. I had made it to the door and I opened. Finally, I can get away from the piss smell.
Hopefully it smells better in there.
As I glanced around at my settings, I saw hobos all over the place, and I walked inside the station. No longer did I get in there, everyone in the station stopped what they were doing, and turned and looked to me. Talk about an uncomfortable moment. All I wanted was some water and to move away from the piss smell. There were crowds of people in the bus station so I tried to make my way through, to find a vending machine. As I passed through, people gave me an awful look, like I had killed a member of their family or something. I tried to not make contact with anyone, trying to keep a low profile. I glanced around at the station, and it looked absolutely trashed. Lights were broken, graffiti everywhere, sectors of people ganged together, ready to strike at whomever came near their group, window’s punched out, broken floor tiles, then to top it off, a thick smell of smoke.
Compared to the smell of pure ammonia from the piss, this was a light trip. As I continued to walk, I found a vending machine. But near there, there was a sector of people. All of them were dressed in big overcoats, large hoodies, chains, baggy pants, tims, and skull caps. They had a uniform look about them, buts still unique. I took a deep breath and let out a cough, from the mass amounts of smoke in the air. I walked toward the vending machine, and as I glanced around, I saw more people staring at me. This time, their stares weren’t mean like the ones from earlier. This time, it was more along the lines of concern. Their eyes told me that apparently I had no idea what I was getting myself into. As I approached, the sector turned towards me and crossed their arms. They made a wall, separating me from the machine. But I didn’t stop, I needed to get some water to take the Advil. I continued to walk and one of the members stepped up and met me, chest to chest. It knocked me back a little bit.
I looked up at this monster, and believe me when I tell you he was just that. This man was about 6’8”, close to 350 pounds. He looked to be in tremendous physical condition. He took off his overcoat and tossed it to his fellow crew members, to reveal his tattoos. He was rather impressive. He stared down at me, with his chain hanging down to his waist, right in front of my face.
Man: Yo, you going somewhere homie?
Yeah, to the vending machine to get a bottle of water.
Man: 1 Dollar.
Yeah I know, that’s how much vending machines bottles cost.
The rest of his crew laughed at me. I can tell it was sarcastically. The big man looked at me, and his eyes were bloodshot. As I looked back into his brown eyes, he shoved me hard that sent me back about 3 or four steps.
Man: You got jokes honkie. That wasn’t the right answer. One dollar to pass through to get to the vending machine! So you best be giving some cash up, befo’ I give yo’ ass the smack up, fool!
The man stood in front of me, crossing his arms back in front of his chest. The rest of his crew start yelling and jumping around, making a rucus of the place. I regained my composure and got in his face.
So you must be a rapper with that little freestyle rhyme. Well, I too have messed around with rap. You don’t know who it is right in front of you, so let me get past, or something bad gon’ happen to you!
The rest of his crew started to come towards me. Maybe saying that wasn’t the smartest thing in the world. I felt the anger rushing through them, as they all looked to pound me to bits, if not worse.
Man: Yo, apparently, we got another Eminem on our hands here! Yo Jiggy, what do we do to bustas like dat’!
Jiggy: Take ‘em to the Shelter, and make em look like a chump! 313 Style D!
D: Yeah, das right! So, you gonna go to the Shelter and yo gonna get trampled on!
Wait, where the hell is that?
D: 2300 Block, one hour. And you best be there, or we comin’ for you! Yo we out!
The members turned around and they walked out of the building. I felt a sigh of relief come over me as I walked over to the vending machine and put my dollar in. I pressed the button and my water came down to the bottom. As I twisted the cap and put the remaining two Advil in my mouth, I thought it came over me, what I was getting into.
I was about to go to a rap battle! crap!!!
I quickly ran over to the ticket booth. I knocked on the window and the booth man come over.
Where the hell am I, and how do I get to the Shelter from here?
Ticket man: Well, you are the 1300 block of 8 mile road, and it’s about ten blocks east.
Thanks
I twisted the cap on my bottle and quickly rushed out the side door. Again once I hit the outside air, I was overtaken by that damn piss smell. I turned around and looked, to see a bum pissing on the side of the building. I walked over to him and laid into him with a right hand, knocking him down in a heap.
The bathroom is just inside, you idiot!
With no time to look at my work, I quickly took off running east bound. As I ran, the beat and the song “Lose Yourself” by Eminem came popping into my head. I ran as quickly as I could, trying to make it on time. My life pretty much depends on it. This is a shot to make it out alive. Then I stopped for a second.
Since when did I just end up in 8-Mile?
All of a sudden, Eminem and the rest of D-12 walked past me. Eminem stopped in front of me and looked me up and down. He looked as confused as I did about it.
Eminem: Don’t ask me dawg. Just go out there, and just lose it.
Hmm, I never thought of it that way. Thank man. By the way, guys, I loved the Devil’s Night album.
Eminem: Dude, just
ing go!
With that, I was off again, with Lose Yourself playing in my head. I ran as hard as I could. I looked up, and I saw the street signs, 2300 Block. I was almost there. I ran and finally I saw it. Making a quick turn, I ran toward the building. I was almost there and just then a bouncer stepped up and stopped me.
Bouncer: You got to pay to get in.
I grabbed some money out of my wallet and handed it to him. I shoved by as the bouncer looked in his hand and saw that I left him a 20 dollar bill. He turned me around. He held out his hand. He shrugged his shoulders.
Don’t worry about it.
I ran inside and as I entered the big room, I was taken aback by the strong smell of liquor and marijunana. Damn, I thought the bus station was bad, but this is nothing. Time was running down on the clock, and I had to get closer. As I moved to the side and got closer to the stage, I peered at all the people around me, and how they were waiting for someone to get on stage. I looked up, because I gotten closer. No way, man, am I having a flashback to 8 Mile.
Finally someone grabs the mic. He was dark and had long dreads in his hair. He looked like Mekhi Phifer. He motioned for the DJ on the back of the stage to start playing some beats. There is no way. Now I really am thinking I had landed on 8 Mile. I surveyed and everyone was dressed in all black, bobbingaround and enjoying the music. Such passion was evident on all of their faces. It was a release from their normal existance, of a life that may not be so great. Finally it made sense of why I was here. The man in the dreadlocks finally jumped up on the mic. He was wearing a large red Sean John shirt and baggy pants with a pair of Tims. He was trying to hype the crowd up.
Man: Now listen to ya’ boy Present here as we gots to get this crap on tonight!
With these lines, and thinking back to my recollection of the movie 8 Mile, I thought to myself, apparently this is a bad remake of 8 Mile.
Present: Now listen up Muthaas, we have a special open mic challenge from D-Illezt of the Hip Hop beat shop.
Just then the big man from the bus station jumps up on stage. He grabs the mic. He takes off his overcoat and tosses it down to his crew in front. I peered my way to the edge of the stage. I’m kinda surprised he didn’t see me at this point, but in the big scheme of things, it is probably better for the time and place he didn’t. He held his hand up and the rucus crowd drew silent. I was impressed slightly by the way he controlled the crowd’s emotions and actions in that moment.
D- Illezt: Now, for all ya’ll listenin’, me and my crew ran into this punk ass white boy at the bus station, and he tried to punk me out, so now he’s gonna see what we really do! So if any you muthaas out there that see this white bread boy come in here, send his ass to the stage.
I knew that he was talking about me. Ok, it is time to strike. I need to make myself known. He wants me, well who am I to dissapoint.
There’s no need for that. I’m right here.
Just then, about 300 people turned to me as I tried to find my way onto the stage. The people are silent. They don’t know what to think of me, not only being here, but also boldly stepping up. D-Illezt is really fumed at this point. He stands right in the middle of the stage. I jumped up onto the stage. Present stepped in between D- Illezt and myself. He had a coin.
Present: D, since you are the champion, you pick heads or tails.
D- Illezt: Heads!
Present flipped the coin. It landed in his hand and he flipped it onto his other hand.
Present: Heads it is. Who goes first?
D-Illezt: I’ll go first, put this cat out of his misery.
The DJ spins a beat and D- Illezt grabs the mic. He looks at me and smirks.
D-Illezt:
This guy's a choke artist
Ya catch a bad one
Your better off shootin yourself
With Papa Doc's handgun
Climbin up this mountain your weak
Ill leave you lost without a paddle
Floatin craps creek
You ain't Detroit, Im the D
Your the new kid on the block
Bout to get smacked back to the boonedocks
in Nazi, this crowd ain't your type
Take some real advice and form a group with Vanilla Ice
And what I tell you, you better use it
This guy's a hillbilly, this ain't Willie Nelson music
Trailor trash, Ill choke you to your last breath
And have you lookin foolish
Like Cheddar Bob when he shot himself
Silly Rabbit, I know why they call you that
Cause you follow Future like you got carrots up his asscrack
And when you actin up thats when you got jacked up
And left stupid like Tina Turner when she got smacked up
Ill crack your shoulder blade
Youll get dropped so hard
Elvis will start turnin in his grave
I dont know why they let you out in the dark
You need to take your white ass back across 8 mile
To the trailor park
The crowd starts to show him so him respect. Then he handed the mic to Present. I thought to myself, really, where have I heard these lyrics before. Then it came to me. Oh yeah. Ok then, you want to play, let’s see what you do now.
Present: Can he live up to the challenge? What’s your name dawg?
Josh Dean
Present: Ok Josh, let’s see it. DJ, kick it!
The DJ spins a nice beat, and I start to bob my head to the music. The crowd is looking at me cold. They don’t know what I’m going to say. They feel I don’t belong. I’m an outsider to them. We’ll I’ll just have to prove to them that I can fit in. I’ll have to show them the same passion that they show. I’m ready, here we go.
That’s not to bad, all the words that you’re spittin’
Too bad every word was script written
Man, you livin off a lie and for God’s sake one time
Just spit something original, don’t steal someone elses lines
For those of you who don’t know what the point that I’m getting to
This guy is recycling lyrics from like 2002
The crowd is bobbing. They can feel it. D-Illezt was looking pissed. I got in his face, then I reached behind to take his wallet. I held it in front of his face. He reached to get it, I pulled it back and turned away from him. The crowd is cheering and starting to get loud. I opened up his wallet and looked at his drivers license. Walter was D’s name. I closed his wallet and turn back to him, and tossed his wallet at him.
So you really think you’re gangster, I’ve seen worse wanna know the story
I really think Walter here is on steroids
And it doesn’t seem to do you no good
Because you’re girl said it was small that is when you got wood.
So much for your left over street cred.
A couple hours after this ya’ll we’ll find him in his home dead.
Cause this punk ass white just completely dissed you
Just for the record man, nothing you wear really fits you.
Look you ain’t worth my time outtie.
Go into the corner and have yourself a little poutie
Let me give you a little something to think about while you’re in pain
It’s my time to rule, it’s my time to reign!
The crowd was going nuts at that moment as I stepped off stage and began to walk out the back of the building. People were starting to Pat me on the back telling me my rhyme was nice. Just then I heard a “Go Josh” chant starting. I had did what I wanted to do when I got on that mic. I won them over. I won their respect. D-Illezt came running after me and spun me around.
D-Illezt: You ruined my rep, now I ruin your life!
He pulled from his deep front pocket, and he pulled out a gun. From the look of it, it was a .38 caliber. I had a deep lump in my throat as this could be my last moments on this earth. Sweat poured down my head not only from the heat of the building, but from the nervousness of wether he would do it. I had to think quickly. I had to get the gun out of his hand.
Hey look up.
D-Illezt looked up and just then, I hit his wrist and snatched the gun out of his hand. I grabs his chain with my left hands and WHAM! an uppercut with the gun! D-Illezt hit the ground as I took the gun and pointed the barrel over him.
I told you something bad would happen.
Just then, in the heat of the moment, I thought about killing him. But I didn’t. I turned the gun over and disengaged it. I emptied the clip of its bullets and scattered them out all over the floor. I took the clip and chucked it across the room and tossed his gun onto his chest. I turned and walked out of the Shelter and began to walk down the block. I stopped and pondered everything that had just happened. No wonder I hate Detroit.
Message to Floyd Geroff
“Pink” Floyd Geroff. Don’t let my recollection of my events previous fool you. I’m not a gang banger or a thug or whatever you want to label me as. I’m just me. But this trip to Detroit, made me ponder something, and it inspired me and instilled something in me that I feel I have been missing. Passion.
It has given me a passion for life, and it is funny how irony can do that to you. It’s ironic that the same way my parents met their demise, is the same way I almost did. Something about that makes you think, am I living my life with the conviction to give everything I do the same passion?
What this pertains to is the New Breed Reign tournament. The newer superstars of WFWF fighting it out in a 16 man tournament for a permanent contract. I have already won the Gateway to Opportunity match, but this makes me hungry for more. I want to win this match, and this tournament. Right now Floyd, you have to ask yourself, can I beat this man, with all the passion he has shown. Can I beat him. Floyd, it’s not a slight against your ability, but it is my time to reign! What you need to really wonder, is what can you do to stop me. Do you have the same passion for this as I do. Do you have what it takes to stop me? Think about that, I’ll see you at the House Show. The Franchise has spoken!
Detroit, Michigan. The last 48 hours have been a blur to me. How the hell did I end up here? I’m not sure myself. But here I am nonetheless. I guess I needed a break from West Virginia.
Ah………………… Detroit.
I’ve been through Detroit, and to be honest, it’s not that great. Yeah ok, so the Pistons are pretty good and the Tigers have been getting progressively better and well, no one talks about the Lions. Who can blame them? But this isn’t about the sports teams. It’s about the city. I found myself on a greyhound bus, pulling into the bus station. Yes that’s right, I said a greyhound bus. I’m a professional wrestler here, and I can afford a private jet, but I’m on a bus. When it came to a stop, I had just awoken from a small nap. I was still trying to get my bearings in order. I stood up and grabbed my small bag I had with me. I tried to stretch my legs, and I felt a sharp pain go through my head. It was almost unbearable as it almost brought me to my knees, but I stood up and tried to press on.
I stepped off the greyhound bus, and immediately I was overtaken by the smell of piss on this could night. The smell overtook my nostrils and immediately I thought to myself Damn, couldn’t they wait to go to the bathroom!! Not too good on my headache from hell. To get away from the smell, I walked toward the door to the station. I was parched and I needed some water. Maybe that would do the trick. I began to sift through my side bag for some Advil. I found a bottle. I opened it up and two pills were left. Bingo, now some water. I had made it to the door and I opened. Finally, I can get away from the piss smell.
Hopefully it smells better in there.
As I glanced around at my settings, I saw hobos all over the place, and I walked inside the station. No longer did I get in there, everyone in the station stopped what they were doing, and turned and looked to me. Talk about an uncomfortable moment. All I wanted was some water and to move away from the piss smell. There were crowds of people in the bus station so I tried to make my way through, to find a vending machine. As I passed through, people gave me an awful look, like I had killed a member of their family or something. I tried to not make contact with anyone, trying to keep a low profile. I glanced around at the station, and it looked absolutely trashed. Lights were broken, graffiti everywhere, sectors of people ganged together, ready to strike at whomever came near their group, window’s punched out, broken floor tiles, then to top it off, a thick smell of smoke.
Compared to the smell of pure ammonia from the piss, this was a light trip. As I continued to walk, I found a vending machine. But near there, there was a sector of people. All of them were dressed in big overcoats, large hoodies, chains, baggy pants, tims, and skull caps. They had a uniform look about them, buts still unique. I took a deep breath and let out a cough, from the mass amounts of smoke in the air. I walked toward the vending machine, and as I glanced around, I saw more people staring at me. This time, their stares weren’t mean like the ones from earlier. This time, it was more along the lines of concern. Their eyes told me that apparently I had no idea what I was getting myself into. As I approached, the sector turned towards me and crossed their arms. They made a wall, separating me from the machine. But I didn’t stop, I needed to get some water to take the Advil. I continued to walk and one of the members stepped up and met me, chest to chest. It knocked me back a little bit.
I looked up at this monster, and believe me when I tell you he was just that. This man was about 6’8”, close to 350 pounds. He looked to be in tremendous physical condition. He took off his overcoat and tossed it to his fellow crew members, to reveal his tattoos. He was rather impressive. He stared down at me, with his chain hanging down to his waist, right in front of my face.
Man: Yo, you going somewhere homie?
Yeah, to the vending machine to get a bottle of water.
Man: 1 Dollar.
Yeah I know, that’s how much vending machines bottles cost.
The rest of his crew laughed at me. I can tell it was sarcastically. The big man looked at me, and his eyes were bloodshot. As I looked back into his brown eyes, he shoved me hard that sent me back about 3 or four steps.
Man: You got jokes honkie. That wasn’t the right answer. One dollar to pass through to get to the vending machine! So you best be giving some cash up, befo’ I give yo’ ass the smack up, fool!
The man stood in front of me, crossing his arms back in front of his chest. The rest of his crew start yelling and jumping around, making a rucus of the place. I regained my composure and got in his face.
So you must be a rapper with that little freestyle rhyme. Well, I too have messed around with rap. You don’t know who it is right in front of you, so let me get past, or something bad gon’ happen to you!
The rest of his crew started to come towards me. Maybe saying that wasn’t the smartest thing in the world. I felt the anger rushing through them, as they all looked to pound me to bits, if not worse.
Man: Yo, apparently, we got another Eminem on our hands here! Yo Jiggy, what do we do to bustas like dat’!
Jiggy: Take ‘em to the Shelter, and make em look like a chump! 313 Style D!
D: Yeah, das right! So, you gonna go to the Shelter and yo gonna get trampled on!
Wait, where the hell is that?
D: 2300 Block, one hour. And you best be there, or we comin’ for you! Yo we out!
The members turned around and they walked out of the building. I felt a sigh of relief come over me as I walked over to the vending machine and put my dollar in. I pressed the button and my water came down to the bottom. As I twisted the cap and put the remaining two Advil in my mouth, I thought it came over me, what I was getting into.
I was about to go to a rap battle! crap!!!
I quickly ran over to the ticket booth. I knocked on the window and the booth man come over.
Where the hell am I, and how do I get to the Shelter from here?
Ticket man: Well, you are the 1300 block of 8 mile road, and it’s about ten blocks east.
Thanks
I twisted the cap on my bottle and quickly rushed out the side door. Again once I hit the outside air, I was overtaken by that damn piss smell. I turned around and looked, to see a bum pissing on the side of the building. I walked over to him and laid into him with a right hand, knocking him down in a heap.
The bathroom is just inside, you idiot!
With no time to look at my work, I quickly took off running east bound. As I ran, the beat and the song “Lose Yourself” by Eminem came popping into my head. I ran as quickly as I could, trying to make it on time. My life pretty much depends on it. This is a shot to make it out alive. Then I stopped for a second.
Since when did I just end up in 8-Mile?
All of a sudden, Eminem and the rest of D-12 walked past me. Eminem stopped in front of me and looked me up and down. He looked as confused as I did about it.
Eminem: Don’t ask me dawg. Just go out there, and just lose it.
Hmm, I never thought of it that way. Thank man. By the way, guys, I loved the Devil’s Night album.
Eminem: Dude, just
ing go!With that, I was off again, with Lose Yourself playing in my head. I ran as hard as I could. I looked up, and I saw the street signs, 2300 Block. I was almost there. I ran and finally I saw it. Making a quick turn, I ran toward the building. I was almost there and just then a bouncer stepped up and stopped me.
Bouncer: You got to pay to get in.
I grabbed some money out of my wallet and handed it to him. I shoved by as the bouncer looked in his hand and saw that I left him a 20 dollar bill. He turned me around. He held out his hand. He shrugged his shoulders.
Don’t worry about it.
I ran inside and as I entered the big room, I was taken aback by the strong smell of liquor and marijunana. Damn, I thought the bus station was bad, but this is nothing. Time was running down on the clock, and I had to get closer. As I moved to the side and got closer to the stage, I peered at all the people around me, and how they were waiting for someone to get on stage. I looked up, because I gotten closer. No way, man, am I having a flashback to 8 Mile.
Finally someone grabs the mic. He was dark and had long dreads in his hair. He looked like Mekhi Phifer. He motioned for the DJ on the back of the stage to start playing some beats. There is no way. Now I really am thinking I had landed on 8 Mile. I surveyed and everyone was dressed in all black, bobbingaround and enjoying the music. Such passion was evident on all of their faces. It was a release from their normal existance, of a life that may not be so great. Finally it made sense of why I was here. The man in the dreadlocks finally jumped up on the mic. He was wearing a large red Sean John shirt and baggy pants with a pair of Tims. He was trying to hype the crowd up.
Man: Now listen to ya’ boy Present here as we gots to get this crap on tonight!
With these lines, and thinking back to my recollection of the movie 8 Mile, I thought to myself, apparently this is a bad remake of 8 Mile.
Present: Now listen up Mutha
as, we have a special open mic challenge from D-Illezt of the Hip Hop beat shop. Just then the big man from the bus station jumps up on stage. He grabs the mic. He takes off his overcoat and tosses it down to his crew in front. I peered my way to the edge of the stage. I’m kinda surprised he didn’t see me at this point, but in the big scheme of things, it is probably better for the time and place he didn’t. He held his hand up and the rucus crowd drew silent. I was impressed slightly by the way he controlled the crowd’s emotions and actions in that moment.
D- Illezt: Now, for all ya’ll listenin’, me and my crew ran into this punk ass white boy at the bus station, and he tried to punk me out, so now he’s gonna see what we really do! So if any you mutha
as out there that see this white bread boy come in here, send his ass to the stage. I knew that he was talking about me. Ok, it is time to strike. I need to make myself known. He wants me, well who am I to dissapoint.
There’s no need for that. I’m right here.
Just then, about 300 people turned to me as I tried to find my way onto the stage. The people are silent. They don’t know what to think of me, not only being here, but also boldly stepping up. D-Illezt is really fumed at this point. He stands right in the middle of the stage. I jumped up onto the stage. Present stepped in between D- Illezt and myself. He had a coin.
Present: D, since you are the champion, you pick heads or tails.
D- Illezt: Heads!
Present flipped the coin. It landed in his hand and he flipped it onto his other hand.
Present: Heads it is. Who goes first?
D-Illezt: I’ll go first, put this cat out of his misery.
The DJ spins a beat and D- Illezt grabs the mic. He looks at me and smirks.
D-Illezt:
This guy's a choke artist
Ya catch a bad one
Your better off shootin yourself
With Papa Doc's handgun
Climbin up this mountain your weak
Ill leave you lost without a paddle
Floatin craps creek
You ain't Detroit, Im the D
Your the new kid on the block
Bout to get smacked back to the boonedocks
in Nazi, this crowd ain't your typeTake some real advice and form a group with Vanilla Ice
And what I tell you, you better use it
This guy's a hillbilly, this ain't Willie Nelson music
Trailor trash, Ill choke you to your last breath
And have you lookin foolish
Like Cheddar Bob when he shot himself
Silly Rabbit, I know why they call you that
Cause you follow Future like you got carrots up his asscrack
And when you actin up thats when you got jacked up
And left stupid like Tina Turner when she got smacked up
Ill crack your shoulder blade
Youll get dropped so hard
Elvis will start turnin in his grave
I dont know why they let you out in the dark
You need to take your white ass back across 8 mile
To the trailor park
The crowd starts to show him so him respect. Then he handed the mic to Present. I thought to myself, really, where have I heard these lyrics before. Then it came to me. Oh yeah. Ok then, you want to play, let’s see what you do now.
Present: Can he live up to the challenge? What’s your name dawg?
Josh Dean
Present: Ok Josh, let’s see it. DJ, kick it!
The DJ spins a nice beat, and I start to bob my head to the music. The crowd is looking at me cold. They don’t know what I’m going to say. They feel I don’t belong. I’m an outsider to them. We’ll I’ll just have to prove to them that I can fit in. I’ll have to show them the same passion that they show. I’m ready, here we go.
That’s not to bad, all the words that you’re spittin’
Too bad every word was script written
Man, you livin off a lie and for God’s sake one time
Just spit something original, don’t steal someone elses lines
For those of you who don’t know what the point that I’m getting to
This guy is recycling lyrics from like 2002
The crowd is bobbing. They can feel it. D-Illezt was looking pissed. I got in his face, then I reached behind to take his wallet. I held it in front of his face. He reached to get it, I pulled it back and turned away from him. The crowd is cheering and starting to get loud. I opened up his wallet and looked at his drivers license. Walter was D’s name. I closed his wallet and turn back to him, and tossed his wallet at him.
So you really think you’re gangster, I’ve seen worse wanna know the story
I really think Walter here is on steroids
And it doesn’t seem to do you no good
Because you’re girl said it was small that is when you got wood.
So much for your left over street cred.
A couple hours after this ya’ll we’ll find him in his home dead.
Cause this punk ass white just completely dissed you
Just for the record man, nothing you wear really fits you.
Look you ain’t worth my time outtie.
Go into the corner and have yourself a little poutie
Let me give you a little something to think about while you’re in pain
It’s my time to rule, it’s my time to reign!
The crowd was going nuts at that moment as I stepped off stage and began to walk out the back of the building. People were starting to Pat me on the back telling me my rhyme was nice. Just then I heard a “Go Josh” chant starting. I had did what I wanted to do when I got on that mic. I won them over. I won their respect. D-Illezt came running after me and spun me around.
D-Illezt: You ruined my rep, now I ruin your life!
He pulled from his deep front pocket, and he pulled out a gun. From the look of it, it was a .38 caliber. I had a deep lump in my throat as this could be my last moments on this earth. Sweat poured down my head not only from the heat of the building, but from the nervousness of wether he would do it. I had to think quickly. I had to get the gun out of his hand.
Hey look up.
D-Illezt looked up and just then, I hit his wrist and snatched the gun out of his hand. I grabs his chain with my left hands and WHAM! an uppercut with the gun! D-Illezt hit the ground as I took the gun and pointed the barrel over him.
I told you something bad would happen.
Just then, in the heat of the moment, I thought about killing him. But I didn’t. I turned the gun over and disengaged it. I emptied the clip of its bullets and scattered them out all over the floor. I took the clip and chucked it across the room and tossed his gun onto his chest. I turned and walked out of the Shelter and began to walk down the block. I stopped and pondered everything that had just happened. No wonder I hate Detroit.
Message to Floyd Geroff
“Pink” Floyd Geroff. Don’t let my recollection of my events previous fool you. I’m not a gang banger or a thug or whatever you want to label me as. I’m just me. But this trip to Detroit, made me ponder something, and it inspired me and instilled something in me that I feel I have been missing. Passion.
It has given me a passion for life, and it is funny how irony can do that to you. It’s ironic that the same way my parents met their demise, is the same way I almost did. Something about that makes you think, am I living my life with the conviction to give everything I do the same passion?
What this pertains to is the New Breed Reign tournament. The newer superstars of WFWF fighting it out in a 16 man tournament for a permanent contract. I have already won the Gateway to Opportunity match, but this makes me hungry for more. I want to win this match, and this tournament. Right now Floyd, you have to ask yourself, can I beat this man, with all the passion he has shown. Can I beat him. Floyd, it’s not a slight against your ability, but it is my time to reign! What you need to really wonder, is what can you do to stop me. Do you have the same passion for this as I do. Do you have what it takes to stop me? Think about that, I’ll see you at the House Show. The Franchise has spoken!
