Survival: An Ode to T.I

Real Talk, True Story

by Roxane Hudon

Dear T.I,
I know we haven’t talked in a long, long time. I’m sorry. I know things haven’t been easy for you. Guns, Prison, Lil’ Wayne dropping a new album. I know. I’ve been a bad friend. I’ve taken, but I haven’t given back. I feel bad about it. I used you when I needed you and then I threw you away. I got wrapped up in my own fame and fortune. I forgot who brought me here. Now I’m saying I didn’t forget you, my brother. Don’t make it hard for me to tell you…
Dear T.I,
How can I thank you? I remember how we met. I remember the moment. It was magical. I was in a lull. I was lazy. I confess. I was comfortable. I’d sit on the sofa. Do the minimum I had to do for school, work, whatever. Come home, sit and watch hours of Television. The Hills. So You Think You Can Dance. Whatever was on. Whatever was stupid. I ate it up, T.I. I know, I know. I had it easy. You worked for your shit. It just fell in my lap and I didn’t use it. And then there was you. Out of nowhere. Where did you come from? Bankhead? Is that a real place? I was just sitting there, probably eating, probably waiting for a new episode of Paris Hiltons’ New BFF to come on. And there you were. You were ordering chicken. You were slipping your number to the chicken lady. And you were telling the world that you could have Whatever You like. And, man, bear with me, it’s hard to speak emotions, you know what I mean? You know what I mean.
Dear T.I,
I felt something. It was real, man. I know, I know I should have told you this a long time ago. Real talk. I’m sorry. You made me wake up. I realized I had to move. I had to do it on my own. I broke some ties. It was hard. You know how it is. You’ve been there. On the streets of life. You’ve walked the walk. I knew you understood. He took the bed, he took the sofa. I cut it off, man. It was hard. I bought an inflatable mattress, slept under a towel. You know how it is, man. You’ve been there. On the Streets. Hustlin’. I wasn’t Hustlin’. I was down, man. It wasn’t pretty. And then you were the one. You told me that I ain’t Dead and I ain’t Done. You told me that all you can do is handle it, the worst thing you could do is panic, use it to your advantage, avoid insanity, manage to conquer every obstacle, make impossble possible and so on. You know it, you wrote it. Don’t act like that, boy. You know it. and then I knew it. And then still I stood, no matter what, sucka.
Dear T.I,
I got stronger. You became the soundtrack to my party life. I drank some whiskey to What You Know, the cops came, the neighbours complained. I knew they didn’t know about that, but I knew about that. I had to get out of there. You know how it is. People ragging on you all the time. Just not believin’. But I was ready, I was ready for whatever. I turned my head to the East, I turned my head to the North. All was dead and gone, but I knew we’d be alright. I moved. I moved out of there and you came with me. I was Livin’ my life. I brought you to my friends. They were Livin’ their Life. We put you on the jukebox. We sang along. Yeah, we were dweeby and White. But we were living the Good Life. I brought you to my family. We did tequila shots with Maman and your life was our entertainment. I was high on you, T.I. You brought me here. On top of the world. What happened, man?
Dear T.I,
I’ve been ungrateful. I left you behind. You showed me what really mattered. Patron on Ice, baby. I’m sorry. Just let me apologize. Things could go back. We could go back. You’re from Bankhead. I’m from the West Island. We’ve made it this far. You’re a short dude, but a tough-talkin’ gangsta. I’m a short dude, but a tough-talkin’, rough-ass bitch. Let’s just rule the world together like we used to. Let’s be thankful for what we do got. Everyone knows who you are, never mind what haters say. I took what you showed me and I ran with it. I’m not gonna leave you behind anymore, buddy. Fuck that Jay-Z guy. He’s just background music for those Sex and the City bitches. Real talk. Real Deal. No one on the corner has Swagga like Us. So, I’ll keep gettin’ my paper and I’ll keep on climbin’. I won’t forget you this time, buddy. We can do this. Just say A’ight, Say A’ight. So, we cool? Nice to have you back, man, coz we got style, pimp, and it’s more than just the suit and the shoe. I’m so sorry, T.I. Thanks for everything. I won’t forget you anymore. Every time I’m down, man. Every time I’m poor, man. Every time I’m heartbroken, man. Every time I’m hungry, man. I won’t forget you, buddy. Every time I’m tired. Every time I’m frustrated. Every time I’m angry. I’ll remember now. I’ll remember that it’s one Hell of A Life.