STRAIGHT OUTTA SOUTH CENTRAL (Eazy-E & N.W.A Story)

Chapter 9: First Time On The Mic

Eazy

Dre called me today and said that HBO was in Compton, when I heard this I knew that it was time to put them on the mic. When I was hanging out with T last night she told me her and Cube had a song all figured out and written one ready for HBO. All of us were gathered in Lonzo's garage that we used as a recording studio. The idea of creating a label of my own as been on my mind a lot lately, I want to do this. I have the money to do it, plus I am paying for this equipment.

HBO was in the recording booth right now going over the lyrics Cube and T had written for them. The whole damn thing was irritating, they kept asking questions about the lyrics and it was pissing the two teens off.

"Was the hell is 'ganking?'" One asked. "And what the hell is a 6'4?"

"It's a 6'4 Impala it's a car," Cube said.

"Ganking is when you jack somebody," T said. "It's not a big deal it just sounds better."

"This is bullshit man this will never get any radio play," another one said.

"Yeah and I mean who gives a fuck about Compton anyway," the third one said.

"Wait hold the fuck up," Dre said stopping the track that was playing. "Y'all got something to say about Compton? Cause we might have a problem up in this bitch." Everyone was silent. "No? Then do the lyrics because I'm really losing my patience."

"You know what fuck this shit I ain't with this shit." They started to leave talking bullshit. "Fuck this Jeri curl rap bull shit."

"Fuck you nigga wearing a cap ain't gonna make you LL Cool Jay!" Cube yelled.

"The fuck you gon' do about it?"

"Fucking mark ass nigga," T said approaching them. Cube followed behind her.

"What's up then bitch?"

"What you call me?" T said grabbing a gun from behind her back.

"Whoa!" Yella said out loud.

By now Me, Dre, T, Cube and Yella surrounded HBO. I had an empty glass bottle in my hand in case some shit pops off. We stood in silence with clenched fists while staring at each other.

"Now if I was you, I wouldn't antagonize her," Cube said. "She the meanest muthafucker outta all of us."

T had the meanest look on her face. I remember what she told me last night. "No one calls me a bitch and gets away with it." I saw how serious she was with the tight grip on the gun. She held it at her side and stared intensely at HBO, mostly the one who called her a bitch.

"Come on B let's go," One said.

"Beast Street looking mother fucker," Cube said.

"Keep talking that bull shit on your way out the door nigga," T said putting her gun back in her pants.

It was just us in the studio now. We stood around looking at each other with nothing to do. It was too quiet in here. Someone had to say something.

"Well there goes the talent Dre!" I said while laughing.

"Shut the fuck up E," Dre said. I still laughed.

"Well how are we supposed make a record label and hit records if we ain't got no talent? I held up my end of the bargain it's time for you to do the same."

Dre stared at me for a moment. "Why don't you do this shit E?" My eyes widen at what he said. "Naw like for real, get in on the mic. You ain't got shit to lose. It's your money, your paying for it."

"No I can't cause I'm not a rapper. They are your rappers." I gestured to Cube and T.

"We're in the group already," T said. "Jinx and them will trip if we did anything."