Shootin' Whatever The Fuck I Like.

More after the jump.

When I wasn't tryna be like Mike, I was tryna be like Diddy

Swear to God, I have this recurring dream of me and all of my friends partying at some club, with a table full of bitches that don't even know us, pouring champagne and juice all over their faces...

Like upside down, all up their nose and shit.

I'm trife like that.

 The Epitome of Diddy.

My 1st L.

Airballed the shit outta that shot. Sun was in my eye.

I started playing basketball at about 7-8 years old. My first organized bball team was at this Rec Center in Marlow Heights.

As a boy, you had to have this type of "take-no-shit" mentality on the court; NOBODY wants to be shown up while hoopin.

My uncle used to be like, "man, you gotta put fear in these n*ggas hearts man. You can be bitchin up out there man, specially when you got all the lil bitches lookin for you an shit."

So here I am, hype as shit, ready to drop buckets on any and every n*gga checkin' me and lookin' for bitches...

...at 7 years old.

First L took: I had to come off the bench.

I got in the game around half-time and had to check this dude who was like 5'7, but kinda stocky...pause.

I was 5'3 at the time, so I was a little intimidated. Before you know it, I'M GETTING BUCKETS. I could see my uncle on the side giving me that "that's what the fuck I'm talkin' bout face" over on the sideline. You know how all the lil kids had that Dumbass, overhead-from the side jumpshot. Threw my whole jersey in the basket an shit

But then that lil "put fear in n*ggas heart" speech came back in. With that mindset, after I scored my 4th bucket, I had accidentally bumped the dude checking me.

When I got back on offense, son whispered low as shit, "Aye, hit me like that again, and I'ma steal the shit outchu... In front of your folks." Son had to be 11. So he was like an adult in my eyes.

Aye, I was shook as shit. Fumblin' inbound passes, I'm dribbling outta bounds and shit; I'm all fucked up.

I knew I was nervous cause my stomach kept bubbling; I was fartin like shit. I was so focused on that n*gga's threat that I forgot I had like 11 turnovers off of being bitchmade.

I finished the game with 8 points 2 assists and 11 turnovers.


My uncle was mad as shit. Like that man was disgusted. He had the "How the fuck?!" face. He was hyping me up to his friends all weekend and I let that man down. That ride home was quiet as shit. I ain't even get the pizza the n*gga promised me either.

Could've sworn I heard that man mumble "Get the fuck out my car" when he dropped me off.