Destined | April 2014
"We're here at the twentieth anniversary celebration of Illmatic! Right here with us is Little Esco, Destined Jones."
The cameras were pointed in my direction. Lights bright as fuck. I shook the journalist hand with a slight dap and rubbed my hands over my waves.
"How you feelin'?" I asked him. I stood firm in front of him as he pointed the microphone directly at me.
"Not as good as you're feeling right now. I mean, your pops changed history with this right here. Can you talk about how much this album means to you personally?" The journalist from XXL asked me.
"Man, I mean, this shit changed my family's life. My dad's life especially, you know what I'm saying?" I smiled into the microphone. "Sometimes I listen to it and I think to myself 'my pops really do this shit'." I laughed.
"That he does, indeed. Now how old were you when this dropped because we see you inside of the booklet. Your dad holding you in front of his old building." The journalist said as he pulled out his phone to show me a photo of my pops holding me.
"I was born November of '93, so I was only a few months old when Illmatic dropped." I said as I looked the journalist directly in his eye.
"Wow, so that means you'll be turning twenty-one this year?"
"Yes sir." I said as I palmed my waves again with my bare hand.
"So, we have to ask you. Out of all of the records on Illmatic, which one is your favorite?" The journalist asked with an eager smile.
I trailed my fingers over my lips out of habit as I thought carefully about my answer. The way that social media is set up, they could bash me based on the answer I give. Honestly, I could give a fuck less. It's my personal opinion.
"Honestly, I'ma have to go with 'NY State of Mind'. Pops came in crazy on that one." I said with a huge smile on my face as I felt my dimple creasing on the side of my right cheek.
"No doubt! If you had to choose your favorite bar or line from 'NY State of Mind', which one would you say it is?"
"Ah man. That's like picking your favorite child, man. Come on." I kissed my teeth playfully. The journalist matched my energy.
"The people want to know. I mean, you are God Son's only son." The journalist made it clear that I was the first only born son to Nasir Jones. The pressure of that alone was already weighting heavy, but to be reminded of it daily kind of fucked with me.
"Hmm. You know what. I think my favorite bar is when he said 'It drops deep as it does in my breath. I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death'."
The journalist looked at me in awe. "Not only do you look like him but you sound just like your dad. When are you going to hit the booth?" He asked with his jaw dragging over the floor. I laughed at him.
"Never." I laughed even harder. "That's not me, boss. I'd rather lace your boutiques with this line I'm working on than lace your ears with rhymes." I said honestly as I pulled on the drawstring of my blue and orange Queensbridge hoodie.
All of a sudden, I felt an arm hook around my shoulder.
"Big Esco!" The journalist shook my pops right hand as his left arm was resting on my shoulder.
"What's going on?" My pops said over my shoulder and into the microphone.
"This is major right here. Big Esco and Little Esco. How proud are you of your pops?" The journalist asked me.
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