My parents had hopes of me becoming a doctor. Shit, I couldn’t tell you what blood coagulation was but I would do Illmatic for you front and back.
I started writing my first raps in 6th grade. It was during math class and we were learning about cross multiplication or some shit. Whatever. I was in the back, penning some heat about rolling up with no headlights and blasting bustas across the street. I know, cringe. My exposure to hip-hop was very limited back then; I didn’t have any siblings showing me what rap music was all about. I only knew what I heard on the radio. The thugs; the pimps; the stunting; the pushing. But it was enough to captivate me, as I would spit Em, 50, Jeezy and Lil Wayne raps in the shower.
I scrapped the bars early, because it was around the same time that I was pushed towards studying for the SHSATs: an entrance exam for NYC’s specialized high schools. My goal, or rather my parent’s goal, was to get accepted into New Yorks “best” public high school. After months of prep school and getting forced to study in the basement, I had a “you are now my son” moment with my father. I became a member of this distinguished community and I was forever branded. “Oh snap, you went to Stuyvesant High School?? You must be real smart.”
But throughout high school, my love for rap rekindled and I dove deeper into the world of Hip-Hop. I was still penning in the back of all my classes, and homework time was instead delegated to listening to classics like College Dropout, Paid in Full, Food & Liquor, Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous, The Chronic and illmatic. My parents had hopes of me becoming a doctor. Shit, I couldn’t tell you what blood coagulation was but I would do Illmatic for you front and back. So instead of studying like I was supposed to, I bought a mic and torrented a copy of Adobe Audition and I recorded my first song in my bathroom in 2011 during my senior year of High School. In 2014, I recorded and horribly mastered by myself my first full-fledged mixtape, justaneverydaylife, in my college dorm room.
That was me. Model Minority x Slacker. That kid in class, who cut, slept, or played Gameboy Advance every day and still managed to graduate without ever studying. To the streets, I was a nerd and goody-two shoes but to the school, I was a hooligan and a rebel. To America, I was too Chinese but to China, I was too American. These dualities were labeled onto me; I just walk with them.
But I bring that retro fresh. I’ll drop a 16 about Jordans on a Funky Drummer break loop. And while all that EDM and house music is hot right now, I’ll still kill a Kanye Soul Sample. It’s just what I do. No gimmicks, just spitting.
Model Minority. Slacker. Nerd. Hooligan. Rebel. Nah.
I’m just a MC.
“Eric be easy on the cut, no mistakes allowed, cause to me MC means Move the Crowd” – Rakim