My big brother is Havoc of Mobb Deep. I call him Kejuan, or just Big-Bro in texts.

Besides being spoiled as shit like most kids raised in a single-parent household without siblings, I used most of my birthday wishes asking the Cake Gods for bunk beds and someone to do all sorts of fun activities with. I also wanted someone to blame for all the dumb shit I did. I doubted the Cake Gods, a lot. Unlike most kids though, I eventually got what I asked for. Trust in the Cake Gods.

My big-brother gave me my first high-top fade haircut, he told me how to kiss a girl, he even helped beat me up a few times with a Speak & Spell, but no matter how big he gets, in every sense of the word, I still hold the same image him; huddled over a small boombox for hours, repeating the same verse from a rolled up notebook as he experimented with the rhythm.

There are really no words that can explain the visceral feeling I had when I heard that same song on the radio, but it was pretty close to the one felt when I saw the crowd leaping to their feet when my big brother showed up to the office.

enjoy…