Aww, c’mon, Jay. Listen to my demo.
Why you gotta be like that, man? Just take it. Put it in the ride. It’s hot. I guarantee. It’s hot.
Aww, man, when you was comin’ up, Jay, I know some brother gave you a chance, you know what I’m sayin’, young kid steady hustlin’, you know what I’m sayin? It’s hot.
No, I see how it is, I see how it is, you come up out the game, all the sudden you ain’t got time for real kids from the block no more.
No I ain’t mean Triple Creek Terrace, where the fuck Triple Creek Terrace, man? I’m talkin’ about the block. You know what I’m sayin’. Kids from around the way. I’m from Marcy, son, for real! One Marcy kid to another.
The fuck you mean Marcy DePrile? Who the fuck Marcy DePrile?
No I ain’t never been to no stupid-ass theater camp and no I ain’t know no Marcy DePrile, theater camp counselor. What the fuck—look, man, you wastin’ my time. I’m ghost. But know this: when I get back on the block, I’ma tell them boys at the corner, Jay, man, he changed. He came out the game, he ain’t street no more, you know what I’m sayin’. They got him wearin’ this stupid-ass blue vest, they got him wearin’ a nametag that say “Jason” and shit, they got him pushin’ these carts all over the lot…
Yea I think you Jay Z. What kind of question is that?
Yea, I see you white.
Yea, I see you like sixteen. You a skinny motherfucker. Your white ass is pimply as well, no doubt—
Well it’s like Russell said, you know: when you comin’ up, you got to stay on your grind 110% of the time, you know, ‘cause you never know who your break is gonna come from, you can’t go to the supermarket and NOT bring your demo and you can’t look at the bagboy and say he definitely NOT Jay-Z in diguise so I’m definitely NOT gonna give him my demo.
Yea you could be Jay-Z. I figure you doin’ like some undercover shit, street-level, like try to understand what the kids is listenin’ to, you know, what’s goin on in THEY mind—
Damn right you could afford a skinny-white-kid suit, you worth billions, kid, I seen The Source—
Nelly got signed ‘cause he was sayin’ some real hot shit to a stripper one time and it turned out that stripper was really Jermaine Dupri.
Well that’s what I heard.
So you definitely not Jay-Z? ‘Cause if you was Jay-Z, I hope you would respect my hustle enough that at this point you would take off your pimply-ass mask and sign me to the ROC without even havin’ to hear my demo. But if you did listen to it, it would be hot.
A’ight cool. Nevermind. You could go back to pushin’ carts n’ whatever.
No I ain’t gon say “hi” to Marcy Aprile for you.
Yo, kid, yo, kid, hold up: be real with me for a second. Your manager, over there with the tie and the moustache and the potbelly: he's Diddy, right?
Posted by DC at January 11, 2006 02:09 AM