It’s all about me, boy. I am the boy. I wear my cap turned backwards, I rollerskate into school and do my homework during class. Nobody got nothin’ on me, and I don’t got nothin’ on nobody; why would I? It’s all about me, after all.
“Yo, sup?” the babe Molly asks, running around me trying to get a piece of this boy. I am the boy. “I’m so into you, boy, how do you got anything so good for me I don’t know, it just happened.”
“That is what I say, and I never believe it for a second,” I say, hopping on my longboard with my rollerskates and double-grinding down the rails. I sweep by so fast, so fresh, so cool she can’t even see me being gone before I am.