Do Better

17

                             Yatta's POV

"So I know you get this question a lot, but what exactly is the meaning behind the whole CorkoLandKrazy thing? How did it begin?" Vlad spoke as we started up the interview.

"That shit for my brother, may he rest in peace." I kept it short and simple about him. Even though I know everyone had a million questions to ask about Cork, I didn't like talking about the situation too much. "I'm not sure if it's a Bay thing, but we always naming different sections and hoods after a loved ones passing, so that's exactly what we did."

"Now tell me how it was growing up in the Bay Area, or just San Francisco alone."

"Growing up all we had is hope. Before section-8 we was going home to home
Food going to waste cause my brother broke the stove. But he had to stir the wrist just to keep the lights on." I quoted CellyRu's verse of 1 Day, before laughing to myself.

"Real shit, it was a struggle. I ain't finna sit up here and tell you the same mediocre hood nigga stories that you hear from all these rapping niggas, but it was some shit. I was thinking like I damn near rather be in jail than out here broke."

"How exactly?"

"Mayne, niggas was just poor. What else is there to it? It was one point in time where we had money. My pops was doing what was necessary to make sure the lights was on and our stomachs was full, I got so much respect for that man. Once he got locked up for the first time after I was born, it was downhill from there." I spoke.

"My big brother, Cork filled that spot and got put on into the game early. He was doing what he had to do, especially after our mama got sprung out. I was young as hell, but I wanted to make some money too. He wasn't having it until our mama lost her job, then we really needed the money."

"And Cork is your full brother, half brother?" Vlad asked.

"My brother is my brother. Full blood, half, step, that's my brother. The only nigga that really gave a damn 'bout me when my pops was doing time." I spoke.

"My mother cut ties with her sister, so there was no contact between us and my family on that side. My fathers' brother was never in the picture, and all his dawgs went ghost when he was down, that's why it's fuck niggas."

"But your father is out of prison now, correct?"

"Hell yea, my old man making shit happen with his Fare Game merch. All my supporters need to go fuck with it, support black owned businesses." I smirked.

"And your mother?"

"She cool."

"On your Instagram, you posted a video stating that you wouldn't allow your kids to smoke weed, unless you were to supply it-"

"Damn right."

"And why is that?"

"Because people are weird. I wouldn't want my kids smoking at all, but if they wanted to, I'll let them know that they can always come to me. Niggas lace shit nowadays and it could be anything in that blunt." I spoke. "Especially my daughter."

"Your daughter?"

"Yeah, niggas lace it and they got a one up on her instantly. Or even just getting high around the wrong people, I ain't having that."

"I feel it, man. But you smoke, that's why a lot of people took it as you being a hypocrite."

"Give a fuck." I waved him off. "I be smoking, yeah. But it ain't like I be walking around everywhere high. I slowed down over the years, forreal. Niggas gotta sit up in meetings and shit, these people talking to you and you not tryna hear it 'cause you high. I be too busy for that, and being high keeps me too relaxed. I been shot at hella times being off my game."