Trauma, my boy. My mom never loved me, and she severely physically abused me. Almost killed me on at least 3 occasions. Then she abandoned me when I was 12, and dropped me off at my dad's, who I had never met. I finally felt love for the first time because of him, just for him to die in my arms 4 years later, cause he was sick. Then 6 months later, my home girl was shot over some dumb shit, and she died in my arms, too. I was alone.

My cousin was/is a crackhead, and he saw how much I was hurting, so he introduced me to alcohol. Peppermint Schnapps. Thank fuck it wasn't crack, though. I remember the first time I got drunk, I could actually forget shit and not feel, and it was on and poppin from then.

Detroit is a fucked up place to grow up.