Shy and timid, Onika lives in a dilapidated Detroit neighborhood with her abusive uncle. She is hopelessly in love with Marshall Mathers, a troubled young man that lives next door to her in their rough hood.
Marshall is rude, agressive and uncouth...
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It took three days for me to finally be able to leave the jail holding cell where I was detained at.
Just my goddamn motherfucking luck that I had got locked up on a Friday, and there was no judge in the courthouse until Monday, so I wasn't able to make bail till then.
And the whole time I was in there, my mind was reeling a mile a minute, man. So much thoughts was racing through my head in those four walls and isolation, something I ain't used to, that I had eventually asked the COs for pen and paper and started writing some of the shit down, not even realizing at first that I was rhyming.
Something I ain't done in a couple of years, man, I used to jot down rhymes all the time, writing on legit everything I would get my hands on. Notebooks, fucking napkins on fast food joints.
That was all back when I still had that dream of making it as a rapper. But Kim used to get on me so much about the shit, that eventually, after yet another failed attempt of getting signed to a music label, I just gave up, man. Threw all the rhyme books away and tried my best to start living more grounded in reality.
But having that talk with Onika that day I stayed over at her place, it sorta brought me back to that place, and being all stuck in a jail cell had made me want to seak distraction from my environment, so I was writing like crazy the whole time I was in there.
Rhyming about my fucked up ass life, like I said. All of the bs I've ever gone through with my ma and Kim, trying to be a good father to my daughter, being tired of being a piece of white trash, broke and always poor...
As well as some other shit, sort of wicked ass rhymes that I don't even know where it all came from, but I did always have a fucked'up ass sense of humor.
But now, the door to the holding cell opens and one of the guards walks in.
"Mathers, you've made bail, get the fuck on outta here!" He barks.
I walk out of the cell and make my way to the bookings where some clerk gives me an orange manilla envelope containing whatever belongings I've had on me when they took me in. Like a cheap ass watch and my dog tag chain. Also my wallet and the pair of hoop earrings I usually wear in my ears.
I walk out of the jail building and immediately spot Dre's car parked in the front waiting for me.
I get into the passenger side and Dre and I dap each other up.
"Thanks, dawg, good looking out," I nod, acknowledging my boy paying my bail for me.
"No doubt nigga, you already know how it goes," Dre shrugs and starts the car. "That chick Onika called me, she informed me of your situation."
"Yeah, I told her to do that shit," I involuntarily smirk a little bit, knowing that the girl had my back as usual. It's good to know when a chick would always have your back.
