Chapter 2
I was born in 1980 January 27th to be exact at, Henrico doctors, in Richmond VA where I was raised and a lower-middle-class income household with a definite ghetto/poverty-stricken vibe there's no way to cut corners my family in my upbringing was like the unintentional college PhD in crime of all sorts I would like to reiterate this was all unintentional my parents tried and did a great job the unfortunate truth is my family every last one of them where what the government called criminals and again every last one of them were addicts so of course growing up I seen a lot of an addict shit! And at around the age of five my family packed up all their stuff and got the f****** out of here, probably about 17 hours later I would start a new life in Tampa Florida I have a feeling that was a direct result of some addict s***. For whenever my family would f*** something up we pack up and get the fuck up out of there
Oddly enough that brings me to the first memory I really ever had. I lived in a Florida room attached to the house with a sliding glass door the Florida room is a room with a bunch of Windows that you can open and close kind of like a porch yes I lived on a porch. Like I said it was attached to the house the sliding glass door my father had conveniently spray painted black so young man like myself couldn't see what they were doing and get any ideas.one day I took a quarter and got down to the bottom...