It’s the same sh*t how I used to say everybody thinks I went to some private school and my family was rich. Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe I haven’t talked enough about it, but I didn’t grow up happy. I wasn’t in a happy home.
My mother was very sick. We were very poor, like broke. The only money I had coming in was off of Canadian TV, which isn’t that much money when you break it down. A season of Canadian television is under a teacher’s salary, I’ll tell you that much. It’s definitely not something to go fu*king get.
Q: Every story has you growing up in this very affluent, all-Jewish neighborhood.
Here’s the thing, I grew up on Weston Road. That’s near the west end of the city. It’s not the nicest area in the world. I grew up there. I moved to Forest Hill in the sixth grade. So I didn’t grow up in Forest Hill. I grew up out there. My pictures are in the school, I’m sure. You can go check it out. I went to Weston Collegiate for summer school. I wasn’t always in Forest Hill.
My mother happens to be a Jewish woman. She wanted the best for her family. She found us a half of a house we could live in. The other people had the top half, we had the bottom half. I lived in the basement, my mom lived on the first floor. It was not big, it was not luxurious. It was what we could afford.
From there, I switched to a school called Vaughan Road, which again, is not by any means the easiest school to go to. It’s a tough school. I went to visit my dad in Memphis. I’ve been around a lot of sh*t in my life, and I just don’t solicit those stories. Those are just my stories man.
My life is mine to remember. Right now, I feel like I’m telling you this to prove something to you, and that bothers the fu*k out of me. Why does it matter? Do I make music you enjoy? Fine. What does it matter where I came from?
Is it going to make you feel better to know that, “Oh man, I used to hang out with Yo Gotti and his manager in Memphis, before his manager got locked up, and I almost got shot in Memphis on New Years Eve, because we used to play around with guns and sh*t.” Does that make you feel better? Does that make me more official all of a sudden?
I went to school with kids that were flying private jets. This guy distributes Rolex in Canada, and this person owns Turtle car wax, and this person owns Roots clothing, and I went to school with kids who were very fortunate. I never fit in. I was never accepted.
I don’t know, that’s why I never do it. What’s the point? Then it’s the flip side like, “So what? You think because...” I don’t know man. For me, when it comes to ever, ever trying to explain myself or defend myself, I just let the music speak for itself. That’s all I want to be judged on anyway. My life is my life. That’s all that should matter.
Of course, it’s never going to be all that matters, because people in this generation especially, are obsessed with details of your life. I guess that’s what it is. I always feel guilty that if I start really telling people past-time stories about what I actually used to do, and the fact that I didn’t have a father, because he was in jail two separate times.
He did a two-year bid and a three-year bid, I was there when he got taken down. We had just gotten back from Memphis. sh*t like that. I feel weird saying that sh*t, because why am I telling you this? It doesn’t have anything to do with my album, my music, who I am as a man. I’m doing it so readers can be like, “Aw man, fu*k. That makes it a little better. Cool.”
I’ve seen a lot man. I’ve seen a lot of life, put it that way. I’ve been with the most blessed kids in the world. I’ve been with people whose life is right at the bottom of the barrel. I was on a TV show, I went to art school, I went to hood schools. I’ve lived. I’ve lived a full 24 years man.