The cops picked me up for attempted murder. I can still see the detectives, licking their chops. Thought they had me. Two weeks later, the cat came out of a coma and told the truth. I was innocent.
No one could understand the bond between me and my brother. I struggled to understand the forces that drove his soul in one direction and mine in another.
I kept my babies fed. I could have dumped them, but I didn’t. I decided that whatever trip I was on, they were going with me. You’re looking at a real daddy.
I didn’t mind working in the clubs, but I resented it being a club where pimps hang out. Because the music that I create is of a higher intellect than that. It not only encompasses pimps, but whores, ballplayers, executives… everybody.
We forget that this music, music made by my brothers and sisters, is still a baby. It’s just beginning. When I think of the possibilities, it makes me smile.
