A San Diego Story & Smoke Break (#1)

Wussup?

I wanted to start by saying this...

 I'm NOT perfect and admit I've made many mistakes I'm still trying to repair. If you leave a comment or send a message that I read and don't reply please don't take it personal. I WILL respond I just might need a reminder especially if it's important. There's only one of me... I mix all my music, maintain my websites with a special thanks to my big bro Sharx.us, make all my graphics, try to promote (HATE ASKiN 4 LIKES), shoot my own videos, and so much more without very much money to maintain. Yes, I have a manager and my iLL-LEGAL Records team but instead of millions in money... it's been more like millions of problems I've caused them and mountains of madness.


 Sometimes I feel like two steps forwards is actually ten steps back but I don't give up EVER! I have a brilliant mind with a big mouth and no bullshit, 


I'M GOING TO MAKE IT WITH MY MUSIC!


 One day when I get my big break my life story is going to be a bad-ass movie; I mean blockbuster type shit. I've been through more things then you could ever imagine on my adventure for a better life. My friends have always been my family through the fucked-up & the fun...


They should make a term called "auto-blography" and have it begin similar to this...




One day around the 4th grade during an anger management session my teacher suggested I start writing poems to release my emotions.  Since I was encouraged and eager to express myself I started trying to make a poem out of everything. I was around twelve  when I  started recording songs and practicing putting the poetry in music.

 My perseverance and persistence came from people always trying to push me in the opposite direction of what I had planned. I think if they would of supported me from the start I probably would of gotten bored and picked something else to pursue. My Mom was always plenty pessimistic and my Father actually tried to place me in Mountain Valley mental health for something I wrote about my step-mom and sister in a song. I'm not sure how it went but I'm sure it was shady.


Later on in high school I got suspended 3 days for selling cds with a song called the Troy Anthem where I dissed some of the students. I applied more of myself my sophomore year fully focused on academics and athletics; I actually had all A's in every class. I made the Troy Anthem 2 but only shared it online & w/AIM in an attempt to avoid any further infractions. Somehow I still got suspended for 3 days and I was super pissed they screwed up my GPA. 

Out of anger I made a new song called -The Treadmill Theory- since all my principals were overweight I really wanted them to run with this rap... the lyrics that caused my expulsion went exactly like this...   

"you act like I should get on my mic and say, hi my name is Eddy and it happens to rhyme with spaghetti banana fana foe fetti fuck that, stab the principal with a machete on the levee and let him die fat, he ain't gonna like that"...

Almost instantly I was expelled from every school in Ohio and even when I moved to Oregon instead of high school I was placed into alternative education for troubled teenagers. I'm thankful today because this is the one event I can attribute to when I turned all my attention to making music my mission I MUST accomplish and maintain. 

By my junior year I was tired of school, and saw it as a setback to recording songs. My step-dad sabotaged anything I would try to say or sing by stomping on the floor, screaming shutup, and even had the cops called on me after I went straight-jacket-status from his smashing my studio. So I did what any aspiring artist would have and smoked weed, started drinking, and indulged in anything I could think to  convince my Mom sending me to Los Angeles to pursue music was my only option.  J told me his idea with ILL-LEGAL Records and immediately got me involved with everything. 

We were both inexperienced at the time with.... 
The inner-workings of the music  industry. 
The importance of maintaining an intriguing IMAGE
Intelligent investments VS. investing in individuals who have no idea about the industry but insist on entertaining everyone on instant success stories when secretly they are just stealing every dollar that was supposed to determine your distribution. 

Remember back on Myspace when it said ILL-LEGAL Records/ Rudeboy / Empire Musicwerks / Universal... and the E is for EMATiON album that almost went extinct.

 Well it all was an elaborate scam  led by Charles Christopher, John Hines, Michael Joseph, and Mary Mitchell... and I hope it makes you miserable to know you missed out on a massive goldmine. Also, take us out of your fucking links, you were absolutely worthless and made me look like a liar when my album was never released.

Here's the website to send hate-mail and/or hack: rudeboyworldwide.com --- they called themselves "Rudeboy" but now that I look back I noticed the original name was most likely "Nudeboy". No joking, I'm thoroughly convinced they are all undercover pedophiles who practice exploiting children with their "industry connections". 

I'm not bitter at all, best of luck to you bastards. The best thing I learned with that whole ordeal is that if you want to believe something... just believe in yourself.


There's more to this story, but lets fast forward to after my album E is for EMATiON was abandon & when I turned 18; I moved to San Diego with my Grandma in Rancho Bernardo. I bounced around a bit before I met a gorgeous girl that gave me goosebumps. I made her a great song (Little Love Left) that I took for granted and thought  that we would always atleast be good friends. I guess I didn't want to accept how we were growing apart. I was head-over-heels and HORRIBLE when we hooked up. (If I had even half the experience I have now and this happened, I can guarantee I would be more then she can handle) After I had my heart-broken I wrote huge messages filled with hate & harassment. I turned complete creeper and can totally clown on myself that I actually would call her crying and leave crazy voice-mails. I was confused and extremely immature in comparison. I can't deny my constant attraction to women who are a couple years older then myself. Cici was like a perfect picture I could never capture because I had a cheap camera I never could change... do you get the comparison? 


I thought it would help me to heal if I started hustlin' hard the cash could create happiness. It never worked with weed; so I upgraded to xanax; then teamed up with cocaine and almost died while doing it. I remember it was August 26, 2009 & I had stayed up all night snorting lines and chewing up full bars before I drove to Mesa college. I can't remember making it to my class on campus because I blacked-out and collapsed, went into a coma, and came back after a couple of days in Scipps Memorial Hospital. (listen to 2nd verse of  Beneath The Winter Snow & also the 1st verse of Nobody and you'll understand now


It only gets better...


A week or two after regaining consciousness I got jacked for a lot of xanax, too much coke, and over 2Gs in cash. In fact it was facilitated by someone I was trying to help and his buddy, Bobby. They beat the holy hell out of me but instead of hiding I chased them out the traphouse and hopped on their car blood gushing out of my head and tried to hang on. Of course the cops were called so I created some crazy story that didn't fit the circumstances at all or the crime. Everything about me changed from that experience. I couldn't trust in anyone but a couple of close friends who I was always careful not to let get close. I changed my number, how I handled cash and how much I carried, and created a bunch of stash spots I could store my supply. The biggest switch was selling Oxycontin (beans) instead of coke.




Just so there's no confusion... 


I'm a complete hypocrite when it comes to OC's. I couldn't understand how someone could smoke a pill off of tinfoil. I talked a ton of trash and thought I was better then that. Until one time while I was coming down from coke and starting to panic someone showed me the cure. No excuses, I could of checked out the facts first but I thought I was cool and convinced I could control myself. I had no idea in hell this was hillbilly heroin and how easy I was instantly hooked. (Listen to Can Somebody Help Me? closely and you'll hear the connection) The money was INCREDIBLE I could sell 10 of these little green 80s for $70 a piece and make $700 on something that originally cost me $300. I didn't need a scale, baggies, or anything special. Beans bought and sold themselves; business was booming and always getting better I felt like a BOSS


but of course.... 

All good things must come to an end and that's exactly what happened here. One day I was stopped and searched randomly while crossing back to California. My car was a couple of blocks away carefully parked in Chula Vista. They didn't catch me with anything iLL-LEGAL during my first inspection. 

While in isolation I assumed I wouldn't be searched again and wanted to see my stash. I should of just left them duck-taped to my dick but because I was delusional on drugs I decided I could cut out a spot under my sole of my right shoe and stick them all in there. 

That's when they caught me off guard & said I could go free but first they had to re-check my clothing for contraband

All I could think is "SHIT, I'm fucked I'm about to catch a federal felony fuck fuck fuck"... I gave the left shoe first and watched  what he did... then with right shoe...it all happens so fast... the second he found the bag  !!BOOM!! I snatched it before he could even see what it was & swallowed the bag. Meanwhile as chaos erupted all around me, countless border patrol personnel tried choke me out while I chewed the remaining contents to crumbs. *WARNING* (I tried this same stunt in Ohio and received a F3 TAMPERING WITH EVIDENCE so I don't recommend my method of madness)  

Unbelievably, they didn't charge me with any crime. Instead they sent me to the hospital where I chugged charcoal to counteract what I had swallowed. As soon as I learned I wasn't getting arrested upon my release; it was adios amigo. Against the doctor's advice I immediately dipset and didn't look back. I'm not bragging by any means... it was by the grace of God that I'm not buried, behind bars, or brainless I'm just being blunt. 

Thank God my younger brothers learned the same lessons I have before they made the same mistakes.



You're probably asking, is there really more?... this doesn't even scratch the surface, but before I start sharing extremely sensitive subjects I want to see if you like what I've started and share some similar experiences... I almost got sidetracked and forgot the next part....

Screw trying to sugarcoat this shit, I'm ashamed to admit I actually stole my favorite aunt's car so I could go to San Diego and snatch up some OC's for slangin' and to smoke. It took less then a week before someone reported a suspicious vehicle and I was stopped by a fucking swat team as soon as I started driving; it was surreal. It looked like a parade of police was pulling me over. 

 I lucked-out that Aunt Gina dropped all charges on her car but Los Angeles still extradited me on a felony forgery case from a few years back. I didn't realize when someone fabricates you a fake ID with false information, that's FORGERY and probably not something you should forget about. Men's Central Jail 

(MCJ) is the largest jail in the world where you learn all about politics and that pain is your only pleasure or peace.

 Also, since I had skipped my original court I was considered a flight risk and forced to stay incarcerated until the case was closed. The best part was there's "NO BAIL" when your an adult fighting a juvenile case so I stuck in a shitty situation where they made the schedule.

In MCJ the whites refer to themselves as "WOODS"... you don't ask why, it's just the way it's setup; you run with your race, regardless of the reasons or reactions. Secretly I'm certain they loved my songs but you don't rap around racist radicals without a real punishment. The second time I screwed up I had to scrap in the shower with someone else that had screwed up something too. We beat the shit out of each other before we both were too tired to battle anymore and called it a draw.  It sounds stupid, but it's extremely serious when they see something that's not with the system-  starting; they make sure it STOPS! 

I think it's setup this way to stop the inmates from coming together to stand up for themselves and set standards. Also, I believe it's for the security and safety. Especially since the staff did not give two shits if you saw a shower, shaved, or ever slept. The could care less if someone stole your shit, if you were starving, or one step short of suffocating it didn't matter... I saw a man get sprayed and spit on while they beat the shit out of him with their sticks for speaking Spanish and not understanding English commands. It was more sickening and sadistic then scary. The experience is meant to make an impression and indeed I have invisible scars. 

The release felt like it took weeks. When I was returned to the real world shit got way worse. I went to call my best-friend Thomas Moore and learned he had died of an overdose. I was one of the last to catch wind of the whole ordeal... I wonder why it wasn't me sometimes. Actually, a few months before all this happened we both slipped out of San Diego and stayed with my family in Oregon to get sober and start fresh... Instead of stopping Thomas found something that he could substitute in secrecy. 

He helped me and held the camera while I made the song "Rehab Remix Video" (Watch on YouTube) where I freestyled about slangin' out of control and eventually overdosing from opiates. Unknowingly what I imagined for me, actually happened to him. The story they shared was that he was sleeping on his back and suffocated on his own vomit after being intoxicated and popping pills. I place part of the blame on myself because I promised him all our problems would soon pass. The EMOTiONLESS Video (Watch on YouTube) I made tells everything I typed thus far. Another track that talks about Thomas is "Jar of Hearts Remix" it tells the struggle we all face and must fight.

Thomas & Eddy in Oregon


There's more to this story that I've already started and want to show you and go more in-depth with songs and explaining what I'm secretly trying to say. PLEASE SHARE YOUR SUPPORT!!! I'm so thankful you still read my madness and mayhem + blast the music!

www.BluntRaps.com - crazy hooks 2 insane beats


Official YouTube Channel:
www.EMATiON.tv


music is magic that's why i make it... success comes with stability. stability comes with serious dedication.