2002 was a crazy year in the 801, I remember it like it was yesterday. Several of my doggs were leavin' this place and movin' on to a better life, I was still around and things was tough.
This was before I gave up drinkin' DP and snortin' smarties. Me and fights were best friends, and growing up on Inglewood Drive, it was fight or run, and I ain't no runner.
A fight on Inglewood in Orem or in the parkin' lot of University Mall is not somethin' you ain't never seen. It is as common as the Ice around my neck.
This homeboy one night was frontin' on me, I call him up and tell him to bring his boys to Meier and Frank at the Mall at 10:00 and we would straight throw it down with em'.
Yo, he doesn't know where I come from, he don't know me, he ain't real.
The clock hits the ten and I ain't seen this clown in the lot. I ring his phone and say "Where you at foo'?"
This homeboy comes at me on the line sayin' how he with his woman and how I was crampin' his style.
If you know me, then you know this don't flow! I ain't no clown like that, and in the 801, if you clownin' like that, you's about to get a poundin'.
I get back up at him about his girl, cause he ain't her only interest.
He gets all up on me about his girl and how they score. I shoot back at him about scorin' his girl and he shouts "of course I do fool... welcome to the 90's"
Yo, I've heard a lot things in the days, but this fool thought 2002 was in the 90's.
You don't know the year in the 801, you's a clown.
I straight up bust this kid and he says he is on his way to the Meier and Frank for a throwdown. My doggs and I are pumped as anyone would be, but the busta don't show up. EVER!.
Now you wanna clown, you go somewhere else. You dogg out of a fight in the 801 and you're smoked. There ain't no room in the 801 for clowns.
Flazzle
