TO: YOU USED TO BE MY MAX ROMEO
FROM: WEARING A BLACK SUIT A LONG TIME
RE: CURSE THE DAY THAT BIRTHED THE BASTARD
YOU REMEMBER THIS DUDE? HE ROLLED WITH FAB AND JOE. BEFORE HE WAS WITH JIMMY HE SAID HE'D BEEN TALKING WITH YOU. MAJOR FIGURES. HE WAS PROBABLY THREE QUARTERS FULL OF SHIT WHICH IS PROBABLY WHY I LIKED HIM.
I MET STACK TWICE. FIRST TIME HE PICKED ME UP IN A BEATER MINI VAN DRIVEN BY SOME DOMINICAN CHICK. WE SHOT DOWN BROADWAY AND HE POPPED SHIT ABOUT THE "GO CRAZY" REMIX HE JUST CUT. WE WENT TO THIS MCDRINKYS SPOT ON HOUSTON. HE KEPT CHECKING THE DOOR LIKE ATF WAS GONNA COME IN AND STEAL HIS FRIES. HE WAS JUMPY. MAYBE THE LOWER EAST SIDE WASN'T HIS LOOK.
THE SECOND TIME WAS IN FAR ROCK.
LIL' KEKE CALLS HIMSELF LIL' WHEN HE IS, IN FACT, BUILT LIKE A BRICK SHITHOUSE. FAR ROCK DOESN'T PLAY THAT GAME. THE SHIT IS FAR. AWAY. YOU GET TO FUCKIN AQUEDUCT AND YOU'RE HALFWAY. IT WAS LIKE WHEN I USED TO MAKE THOSE CHUCK E. CHEESE RUNS WHEN I WAS JUST A SHORTY, LISTENING TO EAGLE 106 ON MY WALKMAN, THINKING, 'NOTHING IN THE WORLD IS FARTHER AWAY THAN CHUCK E. CHEESE." THAT'S HOW THAT TRIP FELT. LIKE SOME FRANCIS PARKMAN SHIT. LEMME TELL YOU SOMETHING, POWERBROKER: IF YOU EVER GO OUT THERE, BRING YOUR LBJ BIO.
"You heard that Ne-Yo shit, son. Tender tones right there."
ANYWAY, BY THE TIME I GOT THERE I HAD GROWN A BEARD AND LOST MY ANTE-UP EDGE. I WAS STANDING OUTSIDE THE STATION, STARING AT MY KICKS, CHECKING OUT THE SHOPPING PLAZA ACROSS THE STREET. I CHIRPED STACK AND BY THE GRACE OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN AMERIE HE PICKED UP (ANSWERING THE PHONE WAS NOT IN HIS SKILL SET).
HE SAID HE'D BE THERE IN LIKE 10 MINUTES (AKA HALF HOUR). I WAS LIKE, "DUDE, LEMME FREE-BASE THE SCENERY; I'LL FIND YOU."
"STAY RIGHT THERE, DUDE. JUST WAIT FOR ME IN MCDONALDS."
I LOOKED AROUND. IT'S NOT AS IF SHIT WAS POPPING OFF LIKE THE END OF CHILDREN OF MEN, YOU KNOW? BUT IT SEEMED LIKE IT WASN'T A POINT UP FOR DEBATE AND BESIDES, THIS IS AMERIKKKA! MAC-DONALDS IS MY SPOT!
HE CAME AND PICKED ME UP AT RONALD'S HOUSE AND WE TOOK A STROLL THROUGH ROCKAWAY'S SHOPPING DISTRICT: MIXTAPE SPOT, CITY BLUE TYPE SPOT, PIZZA SPOT. PEOPLE RECOGNIZED HIM, HOLLERED AT HIM FROM ACROSS THE STREET. IT WAS MORE SMALL TOWN THAN SATELLITE NEIGHBORHOOD.
SOME DUDE--AN ASPIRING MC, NO LESS--FOLLOWED HIM OUT OF THE MIXTAPE EMPORIUM. HE WAS FROM BALTIMORE. HIS NAME WAS MAD HOT BARS OR SOME SHIT. I REMEMBER NOTICING HIS WHITE AND BLACK POLKA-DOT COAT. IT LOOKED LIKE HE'D JUST TACKLED A FUCKING DALMATIAN. I DOUBTED THE LONG-TERM VIABILITY OF HIS RAP CAREER.
HE WAS ASKING FOR A DROP. STACK WAS COOL WITH HIM FOR A MINUTE BUT EVENTUALLY WAS LIKE, 'GET OUT OF MY FUCKING AIRSPACE, STAN. UPS IS HIRING'
WE WALKED DOWN TO THE RED FERN PROJECTS AND WENT UP IN HIS SPOT. ONE BEDROOM. HE HAD A GIANT BIG SCREEN TV THAT WAS OUT OF SOME '98 TIME CAPSULE AND AN EVEN BIGGER FRAMED BLOW-UP OF HIS SHOW N' PROVE. HE PLAYED ME "COLD ROCKIN' IT," GOT HIS PICTURE TAKEN A FEW TIMES AND TRIED TO FIND A NEON ROCKAWAY RIOT SQUAD T-SHIRT THAT HE HAD MADE.
I ASKED ABOUT WHY HE WASN'T REALLY WITH CLUE ANYMORE, WHETHER HE WAS GONNA WAIT FOR A DEAL OR GO KOCHDEPENDENT. PROBING. PROVOCATIVE.
HE SAID HIS NEXT MIXTAPE WAS CALLED BIDDING WAR BECAUSE THERE WAS...A BIDDING WAR (BOOM) FOR HIS SERVICES. HE MADE ALLUSIONS TO SIDE HUSTLES, TAPPING CAINE LIKE THE BLIND. TOLD A STORY ABOUT HIM AND HIS BOYS GOING OFF AT THE PREMIERE OF SOME MOVIE (STATE PROP 2? MUST LOVE DOGS?). I ASKED HIM IF HE WATCHED THE WIRE. HE HADN'T SEEN IT. WASN'T EXACTLY MIKE WALLACE GRILLING AHMADINEJAD. WHAT CAN I SAY? DUDE ESCORTED ME BACK TO THE TRAIN AND TWO WEEKS LATER I GOT BACK TO 212.
I'VE GOT NO THUG-MANSION-LEVEL JEWELS FOR YOU. I WAS HAPPY FOR HIM WHEN HE GOT DOWN WITH JIMMY BECAUSE AT LEAST HE WAS EATING. THOUGH AT THE SAME TIME, I WAS KINDA BUMMED THAT HE WAS ON VINNY/SPLIFF STAR DUTY.
STACK WAS WAY TOO FUCKING STRANGE TO BE SUCCESSFUL. AT ONE POINT, STANDING AROUND ON THE GRASS OUTSIDE HIS BUILDING SOME D'S ROLLED BY SLOW.
'THEY SEE WHITE PEOPLE OUT HERE THEY THINK YOU'RE BUYING DRUGS...YOU BUYING DRUGS?' (PARDON ME, SIR. IT'S THE FURTHEST FROM MY MIND).
I ASKED DUDE IF A LOT OF PEOPLE IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD WORKED AT THE AIRPORT.
'WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?' HE RESPONDED, GENUINELY PUZZLED.
I POINTED AT THE RUNWAYS OF JFK ACROSS THE STREET. HE LAUGHED. 'MIGHT ROB THE AIRPORT!'
HE HAD SWAGGER AND HE DEFINITELY HAD RHYMES. BUT HE ALSO HAD THIS GILBERT ARENAS RUNT OF THE LITTER VIBE. WHICH PROBABLY FUCKED UP HIS 5 YEAR PLAN BUT ALSO MADE HIM A MOTHERFUCKING HUMAN BEING INSTEAD OF PAPOOSE. HE CALLED ME BY MY FIRST NAME (PROBABLY HAPPENED 6 TIMES IN 7 YEARS), HE WOULD GET REALLY SHY WHEN HE KNEW HIS PICTURE WAS BEING TAKEN. HE SAID HE WANTED TO GET REAL MONEY, BUT HE ALSO WANTED TO KEEP THE MIXTAPE WOLF REP.
HE WANTED TO BE A STAR BUT YOU COULD TELL HE DIDN'T REALLY WANT TO LEAVE FAR ROCK. HE NEVER DID. RAP SUCKS A LITTLE MORE WITHOUT HIM.
MAYBE HE WAS BULLSHITTING ME ABOUT MEETING WITH YOU. I COULDN'T REALLY TELL. IF THAT WAS THE CASE, IF HIS SHIT WAS JUST SOME CD-R ON YOUR ASSISTANT'S ASSISTANT'S INTERN'S DESK THEN DO ME A FAVOR, SHRUG OFF YOUR DIPSET ALLERGY FOR AN HOUR AND LISTEN.
BLAME IT ON THE SON OF THE MORNING. THANKS AGAIN.