I realized how important study, practice and dedication was at an early stage in my life.
I have 2 older brothers.
The one who really showed me focus was Anthony. He would be in our garage in South Central Los Angeles for eight hours a day practicing, practicing, practicing. For his line of work and business, his skills had to be the optimum of perfection. It was a matter of life and death.
It was so long ago that I don’t really remember the exact location, but I would ride with Anthony to this building run down looking two-story building and wait for him to come out. I never went inside with him. Don’t remember if he ever asked me to or not. I just know, I always sat in the car and waited.
As I waited, my mind would try to imaginize the process that was used to make the product that Anthony would go to this place to procure.
Only took a few minutes. In and out, each time we went there. I am sure he had to order in advance.
We would drive back across town to the area where we lived and go to the garage.
Small brown paper bag. The time I remember most was that the bag was carrying from 5-7, small green dice with little white dots. One dice had 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 dots on each side. The second one had the same. The third dice had 1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 5. The fourth had another variation that created a mathematical advantage for winning. The 5th, an advantage for losing. The last two were misshapen and filed down so much that they would almost land on one side automatically.
This may not be the exact numbers scheme. But, you get the idea.
He called them “T” dice. I don’t know what the T stood for, but maybe it was for tapper? This was around 1981 and my older brothers wore Roland shirts and “Tee” pants. Often with a shampoo, press and curl or afro or perm.
I was at the perfect age to document what was going on. And, still a bit too young to really indulge. That is what saved me.
Although, I would watch and practice with Anthony for hours, stitching and palming those dice, his stories always prevented me from really becoming his apprentice. Anthony was not a magician. However, he was practicing magic. Cheating in gambling may or may not have been common. But it was most certainly very common that a gunfight would breakout if someone got caught with 3 dice in a basic L.A. crap game.
I got pretty good at palming and switching dice for a while. But I never wanted to take my show on the road. I looked up to and admired my brother, Anthony. But even at a young age, I realized that I wasn’t him.
I was glad that he was him. For sure.
Before we move on in this little story, I remember being sweated by an older boy in jr. high school. It wasn’t really a confrontation that I felt comfortable handling myself, tho.
All through elementary school, I would fight for myself. I lost my earliest scraps at Hyde Park elementary school. Got flipped by one big dude. Beat up by the school bully. Then, I developed an evil streak that would wait until my opponent went to go to the water fountain and get some water, and I would walk up behind him and ram his face into that metal drinking faucet so hard that the porcelain would become horror-story red from all of the blood coming out of his face.
I didn’t get beat up anymore. I was beating up the bullies myself. It got to a point that I liked to fight.
But this day in Palms, Jr. High school, it was different.
All I remember is that there was some guy in the school messing with me. But he was not just talking smack. He was bangin’ on me. That is why, for some reason, this was a different KIND of fight situation.
My first thought was to call Anthony.
I called him from a payphone at the school and told him what was going on. Anthony had a Brougham in 1983. White. Green phantom top. He also had a phone in his car.
He got to Palms Jr. High school campus within about 30 minutes. He brought a friend.
His friend was a really big dude. Not buff or muscular. Just big. He came on campus with Anthony. He was wearing a trench coat.
He opened his trench coat and had a dirty looking sawed off shot gun in one hand.
This is on a jr. high school campus!
Needless to say, I showed Anthony and his friend who the nigga was and I had never saw that boy at school ever again after that day.
Anthony and his friend used to rob dope dealers.
It was that part of his life that brought me into the idea for Thug Coding®.
The hood and street life is very dangerous and infinitely meaningless and aimlessly destructive. When I saw how some people idolized and chased money, and would do absolutely spineless, heartless and intensely violent things to get it, I realized that I had to have it!
I didn’t want to murder people for it. I didn’t want to poison others with drugs for it. I didn’t want to steal and rob or lie and cheat for it. So, I looked for work. Honest work.
Trying various ideas built character. It taught me how to sell. It taught me how to be independent and entrepreneurial. I even tested out of high school at 16 in my junior year to work full time at a corporate retail job. Made a lot of money there and learned the benefits of what customer service really meant. I was making so much money at that time that I had a brand new car on rims with a monster sound system. Gold link chains and diamond rings. Gucci watch and $140 linen pants.
Then, something unexpended happened that changed my life. I was devastated.
I felt out of control and distanced myself from everything. Felt like I lost my mind and my soul.
I floated and drifted around in L.A. for many years. I was doing music and that was the only thing that kept me on Earth. But, I really didn’t even enjoy that. I was empty.
I had done some music with my crew, called The ATF (Absolute Truth Foundation). We became one of the more popular and artistically viable underground groups during the time, and I stood out as one of the best emcees to ever touch a microphone. I had made a few demos. But I was empty inside because of the loss I had experienced when I was 18.
One night, I got kicked out of the popular night club in Hollywood, called Gazzarri's.
All of my friends were still in the club, while I was outside kicking cans on Sunset Blvd. It is strange, to say the least, how things happen. One thing leads to another that appears to be unrelated. But, they are totally connected 100%. Later, I may write a book about that supernatural occurrence. Metaphysical.
There was a couple of white guys in a jeep, parked by the gas station while I was outside of the club. One of them asked me…”Hey, man. Can you rap?”
I said, “I am one of the best.”
To make a long story short, the next day I was that their studio in Holmby Hills working on a rap project. Like I mentioned before, a lot of people liked my music. This included the guys in the jeep. We worked on a project that they were scouting for a rapper to do, but after that project, they were so impressed with my rap and rhyme skills, that they wanted to make my album. I specifically said my rap skills, because, although I had also produced the songs on my demo, they wanted their own in-house production team to make the music for my project.
They totally fucked my songs up!
After recording the project and months of negotiation with the group with the help of my high powered, Century City attorney, they finally realized that they did not know how to market the project. What they had created was not rap. Was not hip-hop. Was not pop. They had created a mess. Honestly, they should have let me produce the music with the original hardcore, hip-hop boom slap style that I had been creating over the years.
The project was never really released. But, the company became very powerful because of the connections they made shopping my album. They eventually bought the company that my attorney worked for and have a strong position in the area of music soundtrack and movie placement.
A couple of years after the album situation, I got a call from one of the main producers of the that company. There was an opportunity for an NBC Saturday morning t.v. show theme song to be done and submitted to Peter Engle’s Production.
Would I be interested in writing and performing it?
A theme song for an NBC Saturday morning teen show by the maker of Saved by the Bell?!?!
Next thing I realized, I was on my way to Holmby Hills with a .99 notebook and an ink pen.
I heard the music and wrote the theme song in about 30 minutes.
“C-I-T-Y, you should see why, these guys, the neat guys, smart and streetwise”…
It was a wrap! The song was sent to NBC and in a few days, we got the call that the loved the theme song. There had to be one change made. Some of the lyrics were too collegiate, I was told. Dumb it down a little bit.
So, the theme song went from, “Notebooks and cleats, those, looks in street clothes,” to, “City Guys, pose, looks in street clothes.”
I talked to Peter Engle on the phone, personally. He said, “This isn’t a good theme song. This is a GREAT theme song.” I am still getting paid residuals on my work.
This was in