chapter  9
THE FRONT LINES
Hip-Hop, Life, and the Death of Racism
Pages 15

I found my medium and recognized my calling the moment I heard a beat and started rhyming. Uphold, uplift, master of the riff, don't hesitate to migrate to manifest the gift I'm blessed with . . . revealed at birth, brought to earth, came forth from the source—Spirit—the sole force in the universe. First born, burst out bustin', crushing every beat, bumrushin' . . . complete trust in creativity, practice humility, bonafide emcee to the enth degree.1 An odyssey ensued that brought me from the quiet suburbs straight into the toughest ghettoes, from stage fright to stage might with a beat and a mike.