I remember when I was five years old being left at home, with roaches in the cereal, spoiled milk, some freezer burnt bologni, and 1/4 a loaf of molded bread.
It was right then I learned the value of a dollar, and the essence of a hustler. To my inconvienance my mother gave up custody of me when I was about six years old
of age so I vaguely remember seein any of her earlier then that, except for some holidays and weekends here and there we spent together, which would almost always lead
to me ending up teary eyed and depressed. I was trying to figure out why in the fuck she would (my mother) come and drop me off and leave. When I would arrive back at my dads house
he would often make fun of me crying. Thus being one of the many existing reasons we grew apart. So I grew up depressed @ a very yung age nothing could change my frame
of mind except music, and my love for the block. I often would carry my pen and pad with me while I was out on the block hustlein because the block is what inspired me,
I never truly felt I was loved @ home so my home became the streets. My stress reliever was weed, my therapist was notebook paper, and the pen that leaked my inner most
depths on too its ever listening canvas. The first time I fell in love with hustlein was when I took 3, 3 liters bottles of soda for like 2 dollars, poured them all in
individual cups, and I sold all of the cups for a dollar and I paid my grandma back for the cost of the sodas then I got my own sodas and went door to door in my hood sellin
freeze cups. Then i started cuttin yards, by the time I got to the tenth grade I was addicted to having money. So now I dont understand being broke, I did four years
because a crooked cop planted some work on me, so I had alotta time to to re-evaluate my life and its prorities, I realized sittin in my cell for all
those years that even if I got survielance cameras (which I had) to watch for the laws, even then I could still whined up going to jail, because the game isnt fair, it
didnt come with a set of rules to abide by. So I decided to make music my full time grind. T.W.E.E.Z.E is the motto that I grind by, it simply means The World
Equals E.Z ends, all one has to do to make these ends in everyday life meet is grind hard. So grind hard is what I do, hit me up on "itscheckmatehatas.com/tweeze, much
love T-WEEZE!!!