The Story of O.J…. MY REMIX VERSION

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Yo when I heard the story of O.J, I was literally in awe. I had been working on an animation prior too and thought…damn this dope. I can’t wait to share mines with you all but definitely unique and different as opposed to what Jay did. I didn’t hear the whole album yet due to my creative mode I’m in when making new music and preparing releases. I just tune in and out of other universes to grab some inspiration and motivation here and there, while at the same time super focused on my work. 

That said, I think its too much personality worship in the world. Why can’t I say I didn’t listen to the whole album yet? I’m not hating. I just ain’t so much of a personality worshipper of Jay-Z to stop what the hell I’m doing and go sign up for a Tidal Account, then take all him in, when I’m trying to PUSH ME OUT!

Dude I ain’t hating Jay-Z is in my top 5. Im almost done reading his book, Decoded and I’ve learned some dope things in it about rap and this industry. Talib Kweli already recommended it and said, any MC serious about being an MC need to read that book! So I got it. I been listening to Hova since a teenager and grew up on all his music. But when your more mature, focused on your work especially as an Artist, you have to study the great ones, keep up with them and get inspired from their great work, but NOT TO THE DETRIMENT OF YOU!

So as I said it was dope and I decided to edit my own videos to the remix verses. I was like, “Slave-Master made nigga, gave nigga hell, 24-7 a day nigga, kill nigga heal nigga, gorilla ape savage in the hood, sick and ill nigga, trying to get up out…the vehicle is get a deal Nigga!!”…

I went in on the beat dealing with personal life experiences. I remember when a girl told me I had her baby after saying she was pregnant. I was like… hold up it can’t be me! Not that I wasn’t trying to take responsibility but I knew I wasn’t the only she was messing with. Crazy…. when I said, “thought I had a dark son, he was kinda of light skin, checked into the county for a test didn’t believe it, my knees hit the pavement, thanking god, amazement, escaping when you laying with the wrong one a do to men, end of prayer, Ameeeen!”. The girl had been giving me hell because my life style had changed. I wanted the boy to be breast fed, eat right and what not. She wasn’t on that shit. One day I had him over cause we would take turns with the boy, mind you this is while I was thinking hard about a paternity test as well. The boy began making weird faces like something was wrong. He began squinting his eyes and making sounds like something was hurting him. Me and my brother was looking like what the hell? I opened his pamper and we saw huge dookie…lol. Dookie that looked like the size of an adult bowl movement which to me wasn’t natural for a baby boy not even two yet!

I called her and asked what did he eat, knowing they had returned from a family reunion. Mind you, she would stall bringing the child over too because we were a group of black folk that loved babies. My mom always wanted to see the baby, and I was not the typical aloof father. I was in college, and didn’t decide to leave just because we had this child I had a feeling was mine. She was light, but I was brown. I figured his skin didn’t match mine, but I was looking for some resemblance. Anyway I would take the baby and strap him to my chest and be all about in the city enjoying our time together. However when she told me what they fed him, I blew up! She said, what you mean what did he eat? He ate what we ate….mass ignorance Im thinking. How you gone feed a baby fried chicken and hotdogs from a fucking barbecue when he is a baby that still needs to be breast fed and cooked soft food so his stomach can digest it properly… hence the big ass DOOKIE! FOOLISH GIRL. It wasn’t her fault though. Her mother didn’t train her properly.

Anyways, I was tired of dealing with that. I had found a new spiritual journey, wanted to clean up my life, and because of Islam in my life, I left California doing music with my big brother to come back and at least see if the baby was mine. I felt bad because men shouldn’t let their girls raise children alone. We didn’t have a love relationship before, like a long friendship and whatnot but she was in the building where I stayed. So I had to have some feeling for her to lay down with her. Bra, I felt guilty being in LA the city of my birth and some girl could have my son. So even tho my brother said to me…BRA THAT AIN’T YO BABY…SHE PLAYING YOU! I left and went back leaving a dream of mine to make a solid real career out of music. At the time my mind had began changing after reading a book called “From Niggas to Gods” by Akil and that did it for me. I left and went back.

When I checked into the county and volunteered to sign up for child support, knowing I hate that damn government system that cripples black men, for not paying or for paying and doing them wrong when they should help mediate the arguments between mother and father. Women use that system to get money cause dads be playing games, other times they use it against the man when the man is trying, really wanting to be a good father but maybe his work is so low in terms of wages, he can’t afford the amount they garnish when if the woman worked within his budget and had a little mercy, they both could work out how to raise the child which begins with food, clothing and shelter. I was also studying joint custody cases. I was going to take her to court, because at times she would keep the child for weeks when all I wanted to do was see him. I told her, look I’m in school and don’t have much, but me and my fam would provide for him what he needed while he was over with us.

I wanted to work things out like I believe a lot, maybe not most but a lot of brothers do. I finally got a hold of family lawyer and he was some young white guy. He said child custody cases for fathers in America are hard to win, because the courts lean toward the woman’s side vs the mans. Some bull shit. He said he even as a lawyer tried to get joint custody over his daughter and LOST! DAMN! Joint custody makes sense. There is physical and legal joint custody. We can split the physical responsibilities like food clothing and shelter, the take turns raising the child physically. My son can spend 6 months with me, then 6 months with you. Or summer with me, the school year with you, or vise versa. To me that shit makes sense, vs what happens today. I can’t see my son, can’t see my daughter, you put me on some white man taking money out my damn check, you messing with some dude, and for months black men are fighting JUST TO SEE THE CHILD THEY HELPED BRING INTO EXISTENCE! Thats wrong, and I felt if we shared responsibility, decisions like what school the child goes to, vaccines or no vaccines and other things in life which constitutes legal custody situations, it would be an ease for me and an ease for you.

Instead we fight and most the childs’ life the children don’t see their fathers. And when they do, the girls are messed up and boys are full of anger. I’m not saying men are beacons of light. Often we hurt our women, destroy their trust and misuse them to the point women are fed up and fire back at us. I understand. The girl may have been mad when she told me she was pregnant and I left for LA any way. I told her, I didn’t think the child was mine. In the end it wasn’t. She had been sleeping with some other dude, more than 2 of us. Me and this other bro she thought was the father wasnt. It was some other dude we didn’t even see and me and her barely had any real penetration. We were in a car, late at night and didn’t even touch bodies like that. Plus at that time, my brother had been pistol whipped and knocked unconscious, I began carrying a gun and the same gang that robbed him almost robbed me in broad daylight. I wasn’t gang gang like that. But I definitely wasn’t about to be robbed without shooting back. Fuck that!

One night I was on the bus to see a girl I was talking too. I sat in the back and this dude was talking loud. I knew him. This was the ring leader of a gang called, “ChainGang” known in the city for robbing dudes. I sat thinking with the pistol on me, ‘He don’t even know that was my brother he robbed and pistol whipped. He was alone and no homies with him, which is when you catch the real person. The thought crossed my mind, I could follow him, it was late at night and get him back for fucking with my little brother. Gun fully loaded too.” They almost got me in broad day light. Sometimes you gotta be smart instead of trying to prove some DUMB SHIT! I saw the dude holding the gun, I saw this dude talking and looking at me, while the other looked on. They began moving toward me and I began moving ahead of them, playing it off as though I had somewhere to be. They never got me and I’m alive with no felonies to tell the got damn story! Life is about choices and some you gotta make and risk life, others you make to keep life.

I got the test in the mail. Wait, I said all the previous to say, I knew I had to leave that city. I was going to end of killing someone, dying or going to jail. 3 of which was not an option for me. I was a dope lyricist and wanted to do music, not die over some BULL SHIT IN THE STREETS! “Run around rob niggas, for a job nigga, cop trigga, caught nigga, hard time with them odd number, hold in the dark(solitary confinement) FINAL CALL TO GET TO GOD NIGGA!”… I got the test in the mail. It read from the Jobs and Family services department. I was nervous. I didn’t want this to be my child and have to end up dealing with this foolish girl who wasn’t trying to be on the spiritual level I was. I opened it, and it said: Michael W. Vincent, in the case of you being the father of Elisha… so and so… you are 999% NOT THE FATHER!…

DAMN… I HIT MY KNEES… ASAP… I WENT IN THE HOUSE AND HIT MY KNEES. I thanked God, even though praying the baby wasn’t mine was kind of spooky because the sex act had already been done…silly me. But I did thank God. I was done. I could have tried to make something happen, but I told her you need to find his father. Seriously. If he was mine, then it would have been me and him. He wasn’t mine, so school was my priority and not a baby. She found him eventually. And ended having I think like 6 more children. I saw the boy when he was older but he didn’t recognize me. At the time of this article…. I have no children. I desire to get married and have mine then even though I made plenty of mistakes even after that.

Currently working on my purpose in life and getting into the head of these young bros as an example and as one who is still growing my damn self.  You can find that purpose here and check out NO SEASON, one of my recent EP’s.

I’ll get at yall soon tho… peace

Mikal

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