So before I get into the fact that I was unfairly stopped for something that literally a dozen of people without color did not got stopped for, I just want to acknowledge how fire this More Life playlist is. I had originally planned to push my post to tomorrow but after the liquor got going and I felt the shot clock of being downtown widening, I figured this was a perfect time for me to get on here and talk some shit. Now while I feel like I turn up to every Drake project that has been dropped dating back to So Far Gone, this turn out was no different. After having a couple of my boys recognize that this drop was far too complex to just settle in with a pair of iPhone earphones, my arms were twisted to host a kick back. Which meant alcohol of course. And just like any Saturday that has taken place from 2011 to now I obliged. Gladly I sit here while Do Not Disturb sprays in the background. I can’t help but think of the court date in April that I have coming up. To just give you guys a bit of a background, here in little boogie down basic Melbourne, there is a bar named Off the Traxx. Well if you are anyone who is anyone you know about the back entrance. The patio to this bar where the drinks are stronger and the vibes are way realer. I’ve casually taken this stroll, a long but narrow dark bridge of lane layered with a train track that leads to the back entrance to a plethora of bars. After making it to the destination with a friend, we were stopped, by two rent-a-cops. No warning, but we were confronted with a bunch of fancy words that equated to us being fucked. Now a ticket is a ticket, which is what we were getting, citations. But what really stung me is the fact that I was able to see drunk faces, white faces, people who were actually making it a mission to walk on these coveted train tracks getting the option to walk free. It concerned me that these people were getting warnings when we were not given the slightest option. Of course, I got mouthy with the cops, but who wouldn’t? This was unfair. This felt like when your least favorite teacher in third grade kicked the base a little closer on Field day for that shitty ass group of classmates that you hated. But this was all too familiar to me. A new lease on life was renewed for me, or so I was waiting for it. I don’t know if I was counting my chickens before they hatched but I sensed that I would be walking away from this ordeal. And in that moment there was a sense of happiness that fell over me and calmed me. I wonder when being able to walk away alive from a police encounter became something to brag about, but instantly I knew not to question it. So now I sit with what appears to be a juvenile ticket, I’ve given this pop belly basic ass cop the wrong address three times, and a fake social security number. I stare at a court date that plays around a trip to Charlotte that I had already planned on not remembering. Do I even show up? For me, yes. Because as K Michelle says, “I got some bitches to stunt on,” and I feel like these cops picked the wrong one to mess with. This isn’t my first run-in with the cops in this shitty town and I know it probably won’t be the last, but I think that a nice tuxedo will go a long way in letting a judge know that I am not the one to be finessed. But what I’m most disgusted about last night is that this bar, Off the Traxx had a line. This bar that I created. That I single handedly made pop. I will be the one to say that it was not a vibe until it hit my Snapchat. But that is neither here nor there. This blog goes out to all the people I no longer entertain who I saw last night. Keep being thrifty.