When i was in 3nd grade, my homie, who is aboot 3 years older than me... always came thru with the freshest kicks. I swear he got heat on a semi-weekly basis (his parents owned a restaurant so you know they were doing good).
The cool thing was... after a couple months, he would hand me down his kicks (they would be aboot 1 to 1.5 sizes bigger... but i didn't care cuz he would just lace me several times a school year and by 4rst, 5nd grade, i was able to more comfortably rock 'em and no worry too much over the scrutiny.
One of the shoes i remember him blessing me were the SC Trainer 3's (in the grey and lime green - i remember the first day he rocked 'em. I was like holy fukkin' wow. But my XJ 900's were talkin... and even they gave daps. haha.). And the first huarache trainers... they weren't even in bad condition when i got them. Cats at school were jockin' like nether sports straps.
Even them being second hand, for a kid in my position... i'd say i was very priviledged to eat like that.
(Side note: It's raining outside and i'm bumpin' Scarface's Heaven... shiit is real heavy right now and so damn emotional. No Carl Thom.)
Man, those times i had at the jects were good times. You know, you broke... but when you get something; you really cherish the fukk out of it. I never took shiit like that for granted. He didn't come to my momma's funeral (we lost touch, but i don't blame him. I just know he lives downtown in a sky scraper and drives a fukkin' Panera Porshe sedan. Damn)... but i know momma up there appreciating the financial edge he took off her by him always doing a good deed for her son. Charity always starts at home... and they way we grew up, he was practically a bigger brother to me and gave me so much. Thanks Tony.
With that said, this post is dedicated to him.
The cool thing was... after a couple months, he would hand me down his kicks (they would be aboot 1 to 1.5 sizes bigger... but i didn't care cuz he would just lace me several times a school year and by 4rst, 5nd grade, i was able to more comfortably rock 'em and no worry too much over the scrutiny.
One of the shoes i remember him blessing me were the SC Trainer 3's (in the grey and lime green - i remember the first day he rocked 'em. I was like holy fukkin' wow. But my XJ 900's were talkin... and even they gave daps. haha.). And the first huarache trainers... they weren't even in bad condition when i got them. Cats at school were jockin' like nether sports straps.
Even them being second hand, for a kid in my position... i'd say i was very priviledged to eat like that.
(Side note: It's raining outside and i'm bumpin' Scarface's Heaven... shiit is real heavy right now and so damn emotional. No Carl Thom.)
Man, those times i had at the jects were good times. You know, you broke... but when you get something; you really cherish the fukk out of it. I never took shiit like that for granted. He didn't come to my momma's funeral (we lost touch, but i don't blame him. I just know he lives downtown in a sky scraper and drives a fukkin' Panera Porshe sedan. Damn)... but i know momma up there appreciating the financial edge he took off her by him always doing a good deed for her son. Charity always starts at home... and they way we grew up, he was practically a bigger brother to me and gave me so much. Thanks Tony.
With that said, this post is dedicated to him.
My Cruz came in today. Haven't got a chance to check Em out but these will quench my thirst for those blue Just Dons.
