Birth Of An Ass-Hole

The Name::

First off, the name; How did I come up with "Doc LikMLo"? Plainly put - because my tongue is so good, I shoulda got a doctorate. Yes, the exterior looks a bit rough, but I am a pretty passionate person. I'm a pleaser. I was brought up to respect women with all I have. To come to the understanding that a man is completely satisfied by climaxing once, whereas, a woman can reach it over, and over, and over, and over, and over again. Because of this, it becomes a man's responsibility to do all he can to please the person he is with. That's what I do. I've mastered the technique, so I am the type of brutha placed at the head of the class. Not only is this my screen name on many things on the internet, it is also my stage name.

The Life:
I was born in Lynwood, California, and raised in Compton and Carson, California. I guess Compton has had the biggest affect on me. From birth till I was about 5, we lived in Compton, from there, I stayed in Carson till I was about 12, then we moved back to Compton in the exact same house. I went to school in Wilmington. It was a private, Christian school, and I stayed there from first grade till graduating high school.
Church has always been a big part of my life, when I was younger. I went to church EVERY Sunday with my mother, And most Weds and Thurs. My English/Bible teacher was Pentecostal, and she had a big impact on me and my beliefs. I even got baptized in her church, as opposed to my mother's church. I guess it was because I HAD to go to church with my mother. Since she was in the choir, I had to be in the junior choir. So I taught myself how to play drums in 2 days just to keep from having to sing.

I don't think that there is any denomination I could or would claim, because I know all that that is, is an interpretation of The Word. Conversations on this topic always intrigued me. So I made it a point to have discussions like this as often as possible. My mother is Baptist, and my father - well he was Catholic. I have an ex who was a Jehovah's Witness. They don't believe in the Holy Trinity, so we spoke on that a lot. I also dated a Mormon or two. My old manager is a Muslim, so I got insight on all of them. So between all the years of going to a Christian school, all the church, and all learning I have done, I guess I am all "churched out". However, it was a good balance from all the gun fire and sirens blaring every evening

Coming off of probation back in September of last year, 5 police officers came into the house riffin and cussing trying to catch a brutha violating in his last few days. Manson heard the commotion and busted through two fences and the front door to protect me, Without a single bark, or a single growl, he came in and sat right beside me. He didn't let any of them lay a hand on me. It was amazing how fast the yelling and cursing went away. Needless to see, they didn't stay too much longer after that.

Now, I spoke on the fact that I had A LOT of church in my life. It gave me a pretty good balance of religion/reality in my life. My sister, who is older was a straight up thug when we were kids. She did a lot of ditching, EVERY KIND OF DRUG you could EVER imagine,, went in and out of jail, and even did a lil prison bid. With her, I was introduced to gangstas, thugs, dealers, pimps - the whole nine. I learned the codes of the streets and everything like that. My relationship with her was pretty much "Love-Hate". Over the years, it has gotten a little better, but it isn't how I wish it could be. I've always been a Black Sheep with my family.

My whole thing was music. I ALWAYS knew I wanted to be an entertainer - I just wasn't sure what field. I've been writing poems and songs since about 1980, and in 1983, I started writing raps. I found my niche. The ONLY one in my family that supported that, was my father. My mother, and the rest of her side of her family (other than a couple cousins) believed that kind of stuff was childish and a big waste of time. "No future in it" is what I often heard. My sister was too busy getting in more and more trouble to even know I existed half the time. I only had my pops. So because of that, I was much tighter with him than anyone else. It was his words I relied on, and his advice that I took to heart. He taught me how to drive at the age of 7, taught me about women at about the same age. Well, started teaching me, anyway. Most importantly, he didn't wanna make me feel like my music or following my heart was a waste of time. I always vowed to be as good a father to my kids (when I have some) as he was to me.

My parents divorced in about 1984, and I had to stay with my mother and grandmother. My father was in the same city (Compton), but I wasn't seeing him as often as I would have liked, or should have tried. In this time, he gave me something I have been bugging him about for as long as I could remember - a baby brother, followed by another a few years later. I been sleeping on my responsibilities to be there for them, I'm sorry to say.

Here is the turning point of my life; One day, December 28th, 1994, at 11:30am, my father left his home to go across the street to get a beer. Approaching the sidewalk, a car with a couple of Mexican dudes in it, pulled out fast and almost hit him. To give you a little insight, my father was kinda like "George Jefferson" - 5-6 and REALLY feisty. Needless to say, there were words exchanged before they drove off, and my father purchased his beer and went home. The guys in the car had different plans. Apparently, they had went home, got a gun, and came back to mobile home park where he was staying. One of the guys in question, asked a friend of his in the park which spot was my father's. He found him, and needless to say, another argument broke out. Dude pulled out a gun, my father turned to run, and he shot my father in the back 6 times. This happened in front of a witness. Long story made shorter - the guy only got six years. I can't help but think that if my father was white, and or if it didn't happen in Compton, the killer would have gotten more time. So much for my faith in the judicial system, huh?

Around the same time of the shooting, I was losing my fiancé (the big pic). I had fucked around and cheated on her with a woman I didn't even want (the smaller pic). A day doesn't go by where I don't wish I could have handled and did things differently. It was a mistake that I will NEVER make again. So basically, I lost her and my father at the same time. I can't think of one without the other. I lost a woman who I can honestly say, had more game, and knew me better than ANY other person on the planet possibly could. She knew the way I thought better than I did, and she loved me with all her heart, but my dumb ass threw it all away. The grief, the anger, all came together to create a person who has no tolerance for anything, and who often shows an "I don't give a fuck" attitude. So when it comes to a loved one, I do that much more to protect them - like my dog. And if my loved one(s) are threatened. I am willing to get into their ass. . . just like my dog.

With my backbones gone and out my life now, I was left with nothing but negativity. I started believing everything I was told by everyone else. "Music is a waste of time", "my creativity can't and won't pay the bills", I'm "good for nothing", I'm "lazy", I'm "two-faced", I'm a "sponge". It never clicked to me how I busted my ass for what I wanted. It never dawned on me how I would refuse to ask of anyone for what I wouldn't and couldn't bring to the table, myself. It never made sense to me that if I spoke my mind, I would be an "ass-hole", and if I kept it inside from that person and smiled and let it go while they were basically fucking me over, I was "two face". It never seemed to matter to anyone else that I HATED asking for help when I needed it. How I would rather die before "inconveniencing" anyone else; and the fact I don't want any of those things to really be true. The only thing that clicks to me is, "If everyone is gonna talk shit regardless, let me give them something to talk about!"

I fucked off the lil tour I was doin with Thump, fucked off my music peoples, and hooked up with mutha fuckas who had nothing but drama to bring to my life later on. I feel so blessed that after YEARS AND YEARS of bullshit, my REAL peoples is still there for a brutha and never left me. During most of the 90z though, I was hustlin. I was rippin' and runnin' in the streets doin madd dirt. Still not drug or gang related, but bank dirt. ANY kind of bank dirt you could imagine. Everything from bouncing checks to printing them and cashing them, Hell, we did a few other things that I KNOW not too many other people was doing. We had the tightest lil organization around. I suppose everyone could say that, right? I been to jail 5 times out the 10 years I was doing it. Made THOUSANDS of dollars in the process, and the most time I seen at a time was 13 days. I only seen ONE felony, and THAT one can be reduced by request, now that my probation is over. THAT'S skill! I knew the banking system, and everything it entails. I knew the laws and all that THAT entailed. What could I say - I had game. Jewels, cars, madd expensive taste, it was all gravy. All the while, the shit that was really important like friendship, my music, my REAL family - meaning my crew, was all bullshit. Especially now that my father and Thea (my ex) was gone. To this day, I can still honestly say that a day doesn't go by where I don't wish I was dead or all this shit was over with. Most people wake up and ask themselves, "Ok, what do I have to do today?", then go do it. I on the other hand, wake up and wanna pound the wall asking, "Why? What is my reason for living today?" One of my favorite movies was Lethal Weapon. Now thinking about it, I know why. I relate to Riggs. The ONLY thing that keeps me from pullin the trigger every time I put the gun to my lips, was the fact of my religious background. A lot of people say that committing suicide will have you damned to hell. Personally, I don't know where that particular verse is. Not trying to ask anyone, because some will see that as a person reaching out for help. I'm not. I don't ask for it, cuz I don't feel that there is anything anyone could or would do for me. Hell, no one never has to this point - so fuck it. From what I remember, the only unforgivable sin was to denounce the Lord Jesus Christ. Basically, I'm not sure enough to take that chance, just yet. If things get much worse though, I couldn't imagine any hell being worse.

In our exchange, I informed her that I was raised to speak up for myself, because there is no guarantee someone else will. She replies with a "Well, I know it wasn't your mother, so it must have been your father that taught you that. . . ", and with a turn and smile, she concludes by saying, ". .. and you seen what happened to him". Ok, now what kind of nerve did THIS bitch have to fix her lips to say something like that? About a man who helped support her ass when even the rest of her kids wouldn't? It took EVERYTHING in my power not to kill her as soon as she said that; EVERYTHING. My mother came home from work right after that sentence was said, and in the argument, she immediately jumped on that bitch's side. I was then told that I was kicked out the house and so on and so fourth. At which point, she got cursed out too, and I went up to my room and locked the door behind me. I was done. Previous to that, I had contemplated suicide A LOT. Now - it was on. I took about 70 sleeping pills I had got the day before, and tried to go to sleep. About this time, I hear a knock at the door with an unfamiliar voice. "Deon, open the door, this is the Moreno Valley Police Department. . . we wanna talk to you". My love for cops really ain't all that high - considering, so I replied with a "Go ahead. . . talk. I can hear you just fine". This conversation went on for a few minutes till they decided that they were gonna threaten to break my door down IF I didn't comply. 20 minutes later, I am on my way to the Riverside Mental Health Facility where my shoes and everything else was taken. The geniuses didn't know I took all the pills, and I sure as hell wasn't gonna tell them. All I wanted to do was go to sleep and never wake up. I did all but cuss the doctor out and told him to show me to my room. I went, laid down, and went to sleep.

As you could see, I woke up and I was NOT a happy camper. It's funny, a person with all the tolerance in the world, a person who made a reputation out of allowing people to walk over him, in such a short time, made a 180 degree turn into a personality that simply, "wasn't havin' it". ANYTHING from this point that was said that I didn't like, or any time I was questioned about something I was doing or wanted to do, you were pretty much guaranteed that I wasn't gonna stand for it. It didn't matter who said it, what for, or why - I refused to be questioned, pressured, or spoke down to. NON ONE was EVER in life gonna step to me sideways again. The one person who could, has been gone since late December of '94.