Nights like this I wish…that rain drops would fall.
It’s the corrupt diplomat, the drug addicted soul singer Ty Eddie Lee Kane Thompson Jr. I’m live from the edge of three dimensions, about a half a mile past the merger of Broadway and Ebony Junctions, sipping a double Hennessy straight with a couple known diamond crooks from East Paradise. I’m just doing what colored folk do. If you good folk don’t mind, go on ‘head and pour yourself a nice stiff drink, take flight, and just relax. We’re gon do what we do; we’re gon discuss life, a bite at a time.
I’m not afraid to say I grew up in [a] Christian household(s), believers in Jesus the Christ. I’m not Muslim, I’m not God Body, I’m not some atheist, or anything else that seems to be the trend nowadays. All respect to any religion or lack thereof, one of the greatest liberties of being an American. But I’m speaking as a boy with a praying grandmother (RIP Mary Warren) when I say count your blessings. I can remember a time when I was an unthankful bastard, a young know-it-all whom no one could tell a damn thing. We never had much, but we always had enough. Shareon at one time worked three part time jobs with no benefits to make sure I ate. Much love to my step pops Sam Smith, a man who loved me when Tyrone Sr. wasn’t able to. I was a young whiz kid who got to run the streets early rocking with my older cousins, and I figured I knew every damn thing. I had a full academic ride to Virginia Union, and no one could tell me shit. I had, at a young age, mastered both worlds, so I thought. Fast forward a half a lifetime and, through all the street life (we’ll leave it at that for now); I tell all my young niggas to take heed to good wisdom, to do things the right way. It’s so much easier that way. Yeah, if you’re really about your issue when you hit those streets to do whatever hustle you do, you enjoy your fair share of good times. You eat very well. You entertain all of your carnal delights and desires. You get as high as the Eiffel Tower in gay Paris on all types of drugs. You live the life. But then, one day, the ride ends. Why go through all the pain if you can avoid it? The streets are for some folk. For others, it isn’t the wave. For some of us, it wasn’t for us, but we were apex predators and went the extra two miles, just cuz e’y body slept on you. They told you that you weren’t built for that. But you knew that you were. You prove them wrong. All of them…you eat. You eat real fucking good. Then it’s over. Then it’s back to square one. What a pum pum.
So, you’re a summer removed from the end of your hustling career. You go from ghetto heaven to being down to your last $60, sitting in Jefferson Projects where you’re living with your family (after being homeless after being put out of your apartment) on the Thursday morning before the start of the school year watching Maury, trying to mentally outline a plan to budget your money to be able to exist until you get a payroll check for subbing, a job you went back to amidst the height of your hustle. You wonder how $60 is going to last two plus weeks. But you don’t stress because faith told you you’d be ok. Faith told you that the Lord would make a way. Then, as you’re sitting there watching Maury your Blackberry (which you owe the month’s bill) rings, and you see that it’s the number for your school district. You immediately thank Jesus, knowing you’re going to have some sort of assignment on day one, which equaled having a payroll check the first payroll. You’re going to make it. Then you remember to pick up the phone. It’s the head of the Special Education department, asking you if you’d like a full time position within the district, salary plus benefits. It seems surreal. In a way it is. You accept. And somehow, this kind lady knows that you’re sitting in a project apartment in East Harlem down to your absolute last, so she goes ahead and lets you know that the first payroll is the following Friday. Being that you’re already on payroll you just have to come by within the next couple days and pick up additional paperwork for your health insurance. Forgive me atheists, but there’s no way in hell you’re going to tell me that one, there isn’t a God, and two, that he doesn’t make a way for his children. As a matter of fact, he makes a way out of no way. He did for me seven years ago this month. At that time, I was homeless, had just escaped drug charges thanks to my two OGs, and was basically the epitome of an underachiever per the way my life was supposed to turn out. But the Lord continually spared my dumb ass. He had a plan for me. He still does. You may think that this blog was a Les Brown type motivation for all you good folk out there, but really, I was selfish tonight. I wrote this blog for me. My brother @themisterceizzo will tell you; I, we, are on the verge of greatness. It was written. But like my OG D. Maull always tells me, “waiting is the hardest part.” It’s hard when it’s so close that you can taste it, knowing that you’re on the brink of being able to provide for not only yourself, but others as well. So I had to remind myself tonight of the Lord’s mercy. I’ve been in tougher times, and I made it through. I’m not writing this blog in tears or down in a ditch, rather, I’m writing it on my grind, with the money on my mind. But it’s on my mind for righteous reasons…mostly. But all I need you good folk to do is just one thing: picture me rolling.
Our white tees are selling like two for five dollar yellow tops of crack on any uptown block in the late ‘80s; you better get yours before we finish our pack. But the re-up is gonna be ill. We’re gonna flip the tees. The next batch of product is gonna be black with the white classic theunbearables logo. We plan to crush the game to end the summer headed back to school. Look out for those black tees within the next few weeks while you fall through our site www.theunbearablescrew.com. Our product is out here in these streets, and it’s being seen. The people love it, cooked or uncooked. Don’t forget, our a la carte game is still on full tilt. Just hit the site or our ace, my brogod @themisterceizzo on the Twitter. You can find me there at @tymonday, as well as my other brogod @CraftyLefty57 and our team, @crewunB. We’re also on IG as theunbearablescrew. If you have any love/hate mail or personal business inquiries, you can reach me at email@example.com. That’s my time y’all. Y’all be cool how y’all be cool. Water.