I Was Dealing Drugs at 13 Years Old | EI the King's Story

So when I first began, you know, selling drugs around the age of 13, that began to, you know, lead me into Spiral, trying to find my purpose and my identity in the street lifestyle and be that guy and be some big drug dealer and have that cool name in the street. And there was like an internal battle. I remember literally going to church, like selling dope outside the church, meeting one of my swags outside the church for real, like busting a plate right before I go into church. And I just remember looking myself in the mirror and just like really evaluating my life and looking at my eyes, just looking myself in the eyes and be like, you know, like I really have to like turn my life around, you know? So I'm literally cuffed to a hospital bed, like thinking that like I'm in some deep stuff. So they're mad, they're upset. They're like, you're about to do life in prison. That's what happened. And they won't even tell me what happened. I remember for days, I just stared at the sprinkler and I genuinely was just contemplating about committing suicide, ending my life. July 23rd, 1990, I was born in Houston Memorial Hospital in Houston, Texas. My mother and my father, they come from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. My dad had a really crazy childhood. He married my mother and they pretty much tried to like run away from where they were from. They went to Houston to kind of start over. My mom gave birth to my sister. She's three years older than me. I was born three years later. Father was just wrestling with a lot of depression. Depression was rampant in his family. Like his brother killed himself. He had his brothers dying in his arms. So just a lot of mental illness and challenges with my pops. So yeah, my mother divorced my father when I was three. And then she took us from Houston to Sarasota, Florida, Sarasota County, Venice, Florida, to live with my grandparents. And I think just for the most part, with like any child growing up without their father being present, I didn't like consciously was aware of how it affected me then. But looking back now as a mature man, obviously like that really hurt me as a kid. My pops wasn't there. We only seen them a couple of weeks every summer. So as a kid, I think that made me feel like less than and rejected and not wanted. I grew up small. I was the smallest kid in every class. I was a late bloomer. So like I literally was the smallest kid on every football team. But it led me to have a short man complex. And it made me feel like I had to overachieve myself and prove myself to everybody. So as a kid, I was an athlete. That was my place, my outlet. So I grew up as a star athlete, captain of the team, captain of the defense. And growing up, I was a good kid, man. We weren't immersed in poverty. I think we were kind of like lower middle class,

live with my grandmother for some years. But at a young age, growing up playing football, that being my outlet, I had a friend. He was one of my best friends. His older brother was a dope boy. And he used to come out to our games, and he had a mouthful of gold teeth and big chains. And that's when I first, I think, began to be attracted to the street lifestyle. Me as a leader on the football team, that was my place of fulfillment and belonging. But whenever I seen, and it's because of hip hop culture and music, that already being glorified in the culture, and that being attractive to me already through music. But seeing it, that everybody listened to him, that his word was law. People moved when he walked past. His words carried weight. So for me at a young age, I think seeing him and his influence in the street was attractive to me. I think around the age of 13 is whenever I started smoking weed, drinking with my friends. And their older cousins from a different city, they would come down, and they would just cause mayhem in our city. So just being with them, we drink, we smoke. And then that's when everything really began to spiral out of control for me at the age of 13. I just was looking for fulfillment in the streets. Because I feel like subconsciously, I felt less than. I didn't feel like I was anybody. I felt worthless because I felt rejected from my father, and I was abandoned. And I didn't feel like I was something. So because I found feeling like something and feeling purpose and belonging in football and through leadership, I began to see that I could have that same purpose and that same fulfillment through leadership in the street. And I've seen that through my friend's older brother. I've seen that through my other friends, older cousins. I saw how much respect they had in the city, and I saw how much people feared them, and how much money they made, and all the clothes and the jewelry. And it was attractive. It looked glamorous. It looked dope. And that's what really, I think, attracted me to the street lifestyle. And then, like I mentioned, whenever I began to smoke weed and drink around the age of 13, 14, and really fighting a lot, too, in school, and just proving myself through violence and just getting arguments and fighting in school, whatever, I began to realize that not only did I enjoy getting high and drinking and partying and and girls and doing those things. But I could also make money, you know, selling drugs and, you know, like selling weed. And so I then I began to realize by starting to sell drugs at a young age that there came, you know, that sense of fulfillment, just like leadership in football, you know, there's leadership in the streets that I think I began to be attracted to.

So when I first began, you know, selling drugs around the age of 13, 14, that began to, you know, lead me into spiral, you know, not only into this, you know, headfirst in the street lifestyle, but eventually led into my first incarceration. And that was, I think it was my beginning of my sophomore year in high school. And at this time, you know, partying, you know, using drugs, you know, smoking weed, drinking alcohol, chasing girls, like, you know, I can't play football anymore. So like I already said, like my commitment and my focus and my trying to find my purpose and my identity in the street lifestyle and be that guy and be some big drug dealer and have that cool name in the street. And, you know, just forcing my way into the hood and, you know, the only white boy out on the hood, posting on the corner, serving cars. And like, to me, I thought that was cool. You know what I mean? Because I'm not from this environment. I'm not, I wasn't brought up in this atmosphere, but I was forcing my way into the street culture and being accepted and trying to thrive at a young age. But I think whenever I was, you know, beginning of my sophomore year, I got in my first fight, I think, like, you know, in school, you know, so I was fighting, of course, you know, growing up. But I got into my first fight in school that led to my first suspension, that led to my first battery charge, that led to juvenile probation. And then one thing led to another. I just kept getting in fights at public school and high school, what eventually led me to getting expelled. Me and my friends jumped a kid real bad in the hallway. Me and a couple of my friends got expelled. That led me to go to a second chance school. I was only going there for a couple weeks. And this time, you know, I'm just wiling out, cussing out principals, cussing out teachers, like, selling drugs in school, you know, bringing drugs and posting them outside the parking lot and, you know, just completely disobeying everything. I got expelled from my second chance school. After a couple weeks, I went to a third chance school. And then from my third chance school, I just kept violating probation from failed, you know, drug tests and eventually led to my first program. I remember I was, it's probably like two, three o'clock in the morning. And I'm in the Venice projects. And, you know, I'm high on ecstasy. And I got a pocket full of crack. And I'm just waiting for cars to come to the projects and just, you know, serving when I come up at night. And I got a .38 on me. It was my first gun that was given to me from an older friend of mine who I looked up as a brother. And kind of looking for, like, you know, fatherly figure, you know, like guidance and direction in the street, you know, people who are like three times my age. And it's like a big homie. And just trying to, like, teach

me the ropes in the streets. And I remember somebody seeing me out there all night, you know, serving cars as they're coming through. And I wasn't paying attention. I had my head down. All of a sudden, you know, the police just skirted up on the block and they both jumped out. And they ran up on me. And I immediately, of course, ran and threw the drugs and threw the gun. And I remember they eventually caught me as I ran through the project gates. And I was going across the street into the trailer park. And I remember, you know, whenever they tackled me, you know, when I fell on the ground, man, they were just punching the back of my head, punching my ribs. And, you know, I remember I was, like, feeling like I was going to die. Of course, I was on ecstasy. I was losing, like, all my breath. And they were just, you know, just punishing me. Just pummeling me. Just because, you know, I made the run. I almost crashed into, like, you know, a fence. And, you know, they're trying to teach me my lesson. And I remember, you know, being put back in the back of the police car and being taken downtown. And them calling my, I think they tried calling my mom. I don't think she was picking up at first. And I think they called, eventually got a hold of my grandmother. And I remember my grandma coming to get me. And just how upset she was, you know. But I think I remember, too, in that moment, like, in my mind, consciously, I remember thinking, like, this is what I'm choosing. You know what I mean? Like, this is the lifestyle that I think I was aware of that I'm beginning to go down a road to where I'm destroying my life. You know what I mean? To the point to where, like, police are, like, I'm experiencing police brutality at a young age. You know what I mean? And I almost got caught with a gun and dope. And I'm just being arrested for resisting arrest and for running. But it was a close call, you know. And I remember how upset my grandma was when she came to pick me up and take me home. Because it was, like, three, four o'clock in the morning. They weren't going to immediately take me to a juvenile detention. They were just going to, like, you know, have me get picked up and I have to go to court. So I think, you know, being expelled from, you know, second chance school and being arrested multiple times. I think I got arrested, like, three or four times for battery, just for fights, you know, in school or getting caught somewhere in public fighting. I got kicked out of teen court immediately. just because, you know, like I think the, you know, the prerequisite of being in teen court, like you can't catch any more cases. So I immediately get kicked out of

teen court. And I think my big thing too was I just kept smoking at first and I just kept failing all my drug tests and not caring. So I think my first juvenile program was like a drug rehab, you know, up to where I was like committed to a drug rehab locally. But it was like court-ordered, you know, so I was there for five months. It was a six-month program. Every month, you know, it's based upon points and all I'm doing is like cussing out staff and getting in fights. But I remember there's a pivotal moment during this drug program because there was like a mandatory counseling like every week and you had to go sit down and actually talk to like a therapist. And I remember I'm just a hot-headed jit. I'm not, you know, I don't want to talk about my emotions or how I feel about or anything. And I remember I used to go in there and just play with a little Etch-A-Sketch. And I remember I just got like, I would just go in there. I wouldn't say nothing. I just ignore him. I play with that little Etch-A-Sketch. And I remember I just got into a fight and I kept failing every single week to the point to where I've been here for five months. It's a six-month program and I got to start all the way over. I got to do a whole nother six months. I remember the therapist was sitting across from me and he was just asking me, like he knew I play football. And he's like, when you play football, you give it your A game, right? I'm like, for sure. And he's like, well, I wasn't talking. I was listening. He goes, well, right now in life, you're giving life your F game. And so he was asking me, he's like, what's like, why are you hurting? Like, well, I think he asked me, he's like, you don't care that you're giving life your F game? And I remember I just had tears in my eyes and I was so angry. And I remember just like leaning forward and looking at him in the eyes. Like, if you don't realize, like, I do not care. Like, I was cussing. Like, I do not give an F about anything. Like, at all. Like, I don't care. And he's like, listen to what you just said. He's like, you don't care about yourself. He's like, you're not affecting anybody but you. He's like, yeah, it hurts your family, you know, hurting people around you. He's like, but you are dealing with these consequences. He's like, you don't love yourself. Why? And I remember, like, I didn't say anything. I remember I went

back to my room and like, you know, I was crying like this to myself. And I think that's when I also really began to realize that, like, you know, I didn't love myself and I didn't care about, you know, he was right. I was destroying my life and I was throwing it away. You know, so I think there was like pivotal moments in my youth, you know, while I was making these bad decisions that I was realizing that I was willfully making choices that was destroying my life, you know. So that led to me breaking out of that program. I ended up escaping, you know, like a week later. I got caught, went to another juvenile program. And then, you know, I completed that program. I got into a fight right before I got out, which recycled me another month. So, you know, all my juvenile program just consists of fighting. That was a, you know, juvenile detention program and like Arcadia, a wilderness program. And so not only going to juvenile detention and juvenile programs, but that also began to get me comfortable with, like, incarceration. And at a young age, it really made me institutionalized to where, like, even though I think as a juvenile, I did a little over nine months over a course of, like, I think from maybe whenever I was 15, you know, to like, well, maybe like 16 to 17, you know, in and out of juvenile detention and juvenile programs. And I think that's got me used to being locked up and it got me used to, like, the process of being in and the culture of incarceration and fighting and just the politics and juvenile programs. And it's got me used to it. So, you know, I got out, I think, whenever I was 17 and went back to third chance school, like, you know, like to transition back into public high school. And I finally made it back to public high school just to get expelled again. So while getting out of juvenile programs or always being locked up, you know, when you're a kid, everybody's got a reputation, you know, like everyone has reputation for anything in life. So my reputation was like, oh, where's, you know, Steven or Steve is what they called me when I was young. Like, where's Steve? Where's Testa? Like, oh, he's locked up. Like, I'm always, I was the one who was always locked up. And I think as a kid, there's some type of, like, glamour to that, especially, like, in, you know, your young high school years or in high school. Like, there was glamour

behind, like, like in my thing, my senior year, I was nominated for, like, most likely to become a millionaire. Why? Not because I was, like, a brainiac who got straight A's, but because everybody knew I was a drug dealer. Because, you know, half the school got their pills or weed from me or whatever. And everybody knew I was selling cocaine and crack. And, you know, I was hanging out with the big dope boys at a young age. So, like, there was glamour behind that. And I think that for me, I intentionally pursued it because, you know, I found fulfillment in that identity. And I was trying to find my purpose and my belonging. in that. So I remember just getting out of juvenile programs and I finally transitioned from like, you know, the alternative schools back to public high school. And I remember coming back like a celebrity, you know, like, Oh, everybody, you know, I'm back, you know, and it was just dumb, you know, looking back, it's just pathetic. But to me, it was kind of cool. And like, I had no, like, high school credits, I think, as a senior, I only had like, I think I equivalent maxed out to like, the credits of a sophomore. And eventually, the principal just called me in the office one day, because I was just being disruptive. And I bring drugs to school. And, you know, like, that would never get caught with the drugs. But you know, they knew what I did. And, you know, I was just being disruptive in my classes, and pretty much told them to look either, you know, you're gonna drop out, or we're gonna expel you, you know, pick one, you know, so I dropped out. And so I was 17 at that time. And, yeah, this time, I was just headfirst in the streets, you know, selling a lot of cocaine, a lot of crack. I met the mother of my children around this time, we moved into projects in Sarasota. And I just be continued to hang around a lot of older, you know, a lot of older dope boys and people who are like, you know, in some serious stuff and really trying to follow that path of becoming the biggest drug dealer I could be just chasing the street dream, you know, there's a fantasy that is so glamorized in the street. And it wasn't forced upon me, I didn't have to live that lifestyle, but I chose it. And of course, looking back now, it was done. But, you know, then like, that's all I wanted. You know, that's what my I chose for my, you know, my purpose in life to be and that's what I wanted, you know. So I remember my 18th birthday, my mom called me, because, you know, I've been out the house, and she already knew I was, you know, selling drugs as a kid. And,

you know, in our juvenile program, she knew everything that I was doing. And, you know, she loved me. And I hate to see my mom always like showing up at court dates, crying, trying to be there for me and all these things. But I remember she called me my 18th birthday. And rather than telling me happy birthday, the first thing that she told me was like, I'm not gonna bond you out. And she's like, you can go to jail. You know, you're an adult now, you know, it isn't for little boys anymore. You know, you're gonna go to jail. And I'm just letting you know that I'm not gonna bond you out. So I'm like, all right, like, thanks for the happy birthday, ma. Like, she's not just letting you know, like, I'm not bonding you out. And she was exactly right. It was only probably maybe three weeks after my 18th birthday. It was a drug deal gone bad. And I was charged with aggravated battery with a deadly weapon, robbery with a weapon, assault with a weapon. Somebody went to the hospital. And I remember like looking back now, it's crazy how God orchestrated, you know, and permitted even all of that for the purpose of my salvation. Because I would never turn myself in ever, ever. But at this time, I was with the mother of my children, and she was pregnant. And her mother just got recently saved. Her mother comes from a street background. She's been in prison multiple times. So I'm on a run and have a warrant. So we're not staying at my apartment with the mother of my children. We're staying with her mother. And I remember her mother like convinces me to turn myself in. I would never turn myself in ever in my life. I have multiple fleeing, like fleeing the loose and resisting arrest. Like that's the only reason why I always went to jail as a kid was like batteries and running from the cops, fighting and running from the cops. It's always what I went to jail for. So she convinced me to turn myself in and put up bond money. And that's what I do. And of course, my mom, like she said, she wouldn't bond me out. I turned myself in. But I remember I think I argued with the bondsman over the phone whenever I first turned myself in. And I think my bond might have been higher than what we were thinking it was going to be at first. And so I'm in the county jail for 30 days. And while I'm in a max pod, I didn't realize how serious my charges were until I first went in and I go to a prison pod and everybody's like, dang, bro, like you're probably going to prison. You know, so to me, it was just like an incident that wasn't that serious because I've done worse stuff than that in the streets. But I'm like, dang, this is like serious charges. So while I'm in the county

jail for like, I think it was a little over 30 days fighting my case, I had, you know, a bunky, was a big time dope boy from a different city. And he had a big name in the street. Somebody who had, you know, influence and somebody who had a voice and somebody who I would listen to. So I remember like, you know, I was not friendly. I didn't really want to talk to anybody, you know, being in the jail, just, you know, kind of street mentality. But I think it was about maybe my second or my third night in, you know, he sat down with me and he shared with me his story of why he was in the county jail fighting his dope case that he genuinely committed his life to Jesus by faith and that God transformed his life and he was done with the streets and he was going to now live for God. And he shared with me his testimony. But then he also had me read in the Gospel of Matthew chapter 6, verse 24, that no man can serve two masters. You love the one or you love the other. You cannot serve both God and money. And for the first time in my life, you know, The Spirit of God just removed the blindness from my eyes, and I realized that even though I intellectually believed in Jesus, God showed me that moment and convicted me of my sin. I saw my brokenness, and I saw my need for a Savior. I realized that He wasn't my God. My God was money. My God was myself. I was aware of my sin and my brokenness, and that night God authentically led me to repentance and brokenness. I truly surrendered my life to Jesus by faith, and that night in the county jail I received salvation. My life has been forever changed from that night. Praise God for that. Of course, that's my testimony, but I always share it with my story and with my testimony. The very following morning in the county jail in a max pod, everybody's going to prison. There's people in there with murder charges and all capital one, felony one offenses, and everyone's going to prison. My charges are pretty bad, too. The very next morning I get into a fight.

I get into an altercation with somebody, some words are exchanged, and we get into a fight. The same guy who led me to Christ, he led the other guy to Christ as well, so he mediates the conflict. I never would shake hands after a fight. I never would seek reconciliation, but within 30 minutes we're over here shaking hands. That's fruit right there of salvation, even though I got in a fight. The reason why I share that always with my testimony is because I believe that that fight is a small snapshot of how my spiritual journey would be for years to come. Even though God led me to a position of surrender, I received salvation, there was going to be a lot of rebellion, a lot of me running from God, and a lot of me straying from God's call upon my life. That's where I first encountered Jesus for real, where God led me to repentance and through faith and the sacrifice of Christ, I received salvation. Right after that, I bonded out. Right after that, I bonded out. I was probably only out for two weeks. I remember I was going to church in the hood with my baby mama, and this is the same hood where I used to sell dope outside on the corner. I was trying to do right, and I was kind of on fire for God. I remember within a couple weeks, not really having people close up in my chest discipling me or holding me accountable, I immediately just began to desire to make money and go back into the street life. I got some dope, and I started selling dope again. I remember even though I started selling dope again within a couple weeks of being out, I didn't want to. There was an internal battle. I remember literally going to church, selling dope outside the church, meeting one of my swags outside the church for real, busting a plate right before I go into church. My baby mama's mom sees me, and she's yelling at me, like, what are you doing?

We're about to go into church. I feel convicted about it. I remember being, but I'm like, I need to get money. I got kids coming. That's really my excuse. I got twins on the way. That was my excuse while I'm about to go to prison. I'm thinking I might do some time. That was also an excuse for me to start selling drugs again. I remember those times. There's multiple times, but especially that one in particular, right when I sell dope right outside the church. It's funny, because even before that, some of my swags, my clientele would call me, and they'll be like, yo, you good? I'll be like, yeah, meet me where I'm at, where I be posted up at in the hood. When they come, I'll be like, yo, come to church with me. This is me at first, beginning to try to follow Jesus and even be a little evangelistic and get them to come in the church. They're like, what? I'm like, no, bro. You really just have me drive down here for that? I'm like, nah. But then, like I said, I immediately started selling drugs, and I remember being in church with a pocket full of dope and just listening to the gospel, listening to the sermon, and I'm just in my seat weeping. You know what I mean? I remember genuinely wanting to stop and shake the streets. I felt like, yo, I felt shame, I felt condemnation, I felt guilt, but also I felt like I couldn't shake it. I remember I would walk out of church, and I remember I would just throw all my work

in the woods. Like, I'm done. God, I'm done. I'm done. God, I'm done. Like, I'm going to serve you, I'm going to follow you, I'm done. And I remember I'd wake up the next morning and be like, dang, why'd I throw my dope away? You know what I mean? Like reality would hit, you know, like I need money, and like I got kids on the way, and I'm probably going to prison. So I would just buy more dope, and eventually, you know, I failed a urinalysis test. You know, they put a warrant out for my arrest. They kicked in my door. They kicked in my door, they're knocking, so I run, I grab all my work, and I'm flushing it down the toilet, you know, hiding my guns, and you know, thank God, they came in, they just arrested me, and they took me. They didn't even search for nothing, and you know, they take me back to jail with no bond. And that's when I went to prison my first time, at the age of 18. My first day in prison, I go into prison, and like... my OG on the street who I look up to, like a big dope boy, while I'm on the phone in the county jail. Even though I let him know, like, hey, I'm living for Jesus now. I'm going to walk this out for real. But I still look up to him as a big brother and as a big homie and kind of like a father figure. So I've kind of listened to negative counsel. He's like, all right, I understand that. You can follow Jesus and do the right thing. If you sell a rock, you can sell a car, you can sell a car, you can sell a house. You can do your legal entrepreneur thing that's dope.

You're a hustler, bro. You're going to make it however you choose. He's like, no, don't go up that road being friendly. Don't go up there. You've got to stand on business, bro. If any of the first person that disrespect you, bro, you've got to lean in on them. But I already have this in my mind. That's what you have to do. I think subconsciously everybody thinks that. When you go to prison, you've got to knock out the first person that tries you. So that's exactly what happened. My first day in prison, my first 45 minutes, I go to the youthful offender dorm and I always felt like in life I always got the worst hands of everything. I was always in the worst dorms. I was always in the worst pods. That's what happened to me my first day in prison. They booked me and they got different dorms and they booked me in the one with the older people, which is cool because I normally like being around older people anyways. But majority of these people in this dorm had already been to their JIT camp, their youthful offender camp, and they're getting transferred to different institutions. So I go in there and they got somebody bay checking the dorm. That means yelling at everybody and trying to just be confrontational. Long story short, someone pulled up on me and they T-O-H you, test the heart, and they pull up on me and they tell me to fight and they want me to fight, so I just take off on them. So my first day in prison, my first 45 minutes, someone comes up to me, disrespects me. I felt like I need to prove myself and let everybody know that I'm not the one that you could try. I swing on them and we get in a fight in the middle of the dorm. While we're fighting and I'm kind of getting off on him, his friend hands him a lock and

a sock and he hits me with a lock and a sock and we keep going at it and I'm trying to weave it and the police come in and slam us against the wall and handcuff us and we go to confinement. And I remember going to confinement my first night in prison with my kids due any week. I got twins on the way and I got sentenced to 30 months, so I got like two and a half years and two years paper. And I remember going to confinement, looking at myself in the mirror that night in Christ, but still wrestling this thing out, trying to figure out how to follow Jesus and survive prison and get out of the streets in general. So I remember just looking in the mirror at night in confinement. Because not only is it one thing to be in prison, but it's another thing to be in confinement and then your first day, let alone your first 45 minutes, and I got hit with a lock. So it's like bad thing after bad thing after bad thing. And I just remember looking at myself in the mirror and just really evaluating my life and looking at my eyes, just looking at myself in the eyes and being like, I really have to turn my life around. Because I've already mentioned the times as a juvenile, I was aware of the path I was taking, of throwing my life away, being institutionalized, program to program, juvenile detention, juvenile detention, the first county bid, and now in prison, and now in confinement. So it's like something's really got to happen. So eventually I get out of confinement, they transferred me to my first institution, Indian River. So the whole two and a half years of my JIT camp, youthful offender experience, man, praise God, it was amazing. Don't get me wrong, it was crazy, it was chaotic, there was violence everywhere, extortion everywhere robberies everywhere. But the favor of God was upon my life, number one, just because I feel like I was always young and I always hung out with a lot of older people. I carried myself in a very mature way, I had goals in my mouth at a young age. And people from my city knew who I was and my reputation and pretty much every institution

I went to, I already knew the leaders of a gang or a certain gang that I already had a relationship with, whatever. So it wasn't to where I was navigating through crazy conflict, to where I was in fear of being in the middle of drama. But for the most part, learning how to navigate through it. But during the first bid is when I was on fire for Jesus. And I just remember being in the youthful offender dorms and leading Bible study and not really understanding anything about ministry or anything about church, but falling in love with Jesus and falling in love with His Word and a natural call of leadership on my life. God always had me as a leader and I just organically was kind of walking that out throughout my first two and a half years with guys around me. And I remember we're young in Christ so we're walking around the rec yard smoking ribs. You know, I mean like still like this being authentically us, but like walking around smoking rips sharing the gospel You know like pulling up on people and sharing the gospel and sharing how God transformed our life And of course, you know like we weren't yet done smoking rips or whatever but like those are beautiful moments for me because none of those things were taught I Feel like you know experiencing and accounting encountering Jesus in Prison in a young age 18 years old as a young man Was a blessing for me because like there was no religious tapestry and there was no religious structure Of course, we went to chapel, but chapel service is kind of few far in between some of the prisons. I was as legit But it was all like Holy Spirit led and authentic and organic and we were just on fire for Jesus, man And even having learned how to navigate through conflict. I fought my whole life, bro I was extremely proud and arrogant and I never really walked away from fights But there was times a jit camp to where I felt disrespected or someone would try me or want to fight and I have to say No, like in the prison like that's like a coward move kind of, you know I mean like walking away from a fight or saying no or like no bro Like I'm not gonna fight you because I'm not scared but bro because I'm you know I'm choosing to do what's right by Jesus, you know And kind of standing on business in that and learning how to navigate through conflict not being passive But like righteously assertive, you know

or even mediate conflict some brothers in Christ who are facing extortion or facing some drama and having relationships with the gang members are trying to extort them like God would always begin to use me kind of like as a promoter of peace and I kind of begin to identify in my youthfulness in Christ that Just like I was kind of like in the street lifestyle, you know on the streets You know, like God was using that same influence now like in the kingdom, you know I begin to experience that later on in my bids but I begin to experience it slightly my first bid that God was kind of leading me to minister to a lot of the gang members And to even mediate and kind of protect the flock who were facing some type of like extortion at the stuff like that You know, but yeah that first bit towards the end of it I was able to go to work at least and that's whenever you like are, you know At the very end of your prison sentence 19 months or less your community minimum custody, you know They pretty much put you in like a hotel like it's a prison, you know But it's like an old hotel renovated to where it's like, you know a whole bunch of beds in a room and everyone's still in their prison sentence, but you know You catch the city bus to go work and they got a you know, this is before they had GPS monitoring But you pretty much go to work in society save your money They take a portion of your check and you transition back into society and you're released, you know from work at least So when I get to work at least this is kind of like the first big test for me Am I gonna walk this thing out? You know, so when I get to work at least, you know at first I'm on fire for Jesus I'm trying to do right but then I soon begin to this is like when k2 at first came out and this is before it became like twack and everybody's like having seizures behind it's more of like just the synthetic marijuana and Everybody's smoking it because they drug test you So immediately when I get to work at least, you know I'm beginning to fall in temptation with like linking up with girls at work and sexual sin and things like that and You know plus to like the k2 is rampant on the compound and you know I fall in temptation and I start smoking but then I also get caught back up in the hustle again You know realizing that I can make money apart from work while at work at least

So just feeling the the shame and the condemnation and the guilt While at work at least, you know, I feel like the majority of my life I've never understood moderation either way. I'm all the way in or I'm all the way out so during that time at work at least I soon began a Backslide and it was a blatant rebellion from the will of God and I began to you know all the way out You know kind of like street mentality again, and now I'm even devising about how when I get out I'm gonna get back in the street and I'm a you know, run up the bag and you know Earn my spot back and all these things and uh, yeah God and his love is a loving father chastised me put me on my neck because my own choice is my own sin I deviated from work. I actually get hit with an outside escape charge, even though I didn't escape I just left work good to go to the beach at this time. They're cracking down on deviation And they end up taking me to the county jail with the outside charge escape charge and I'm shook thinking I'm facing another five years They don't give me five years. Of course. They just tell me hey, they're cracking down on deviation We're just gonna send you back to prison as it happens at work at least but they jack your custody up So I go to confinement for like 90 days immediately God again leads me to rest like repentance restores me But this time they snatched my while my youthful offender and I go to adult prison And I remember getting off the bus One of the officers is like hey, you're going I dorm like how much how much time you got you got life sentence? I said no, man. I got four months left He's like, what? He's like, Jit, he's like, how old are you? I was like, 19. He's like, man, you know where you're going? I'm like, nah, he's like, you're going to iDORM. I'm like, all right. He's like, that's a life of dorm. I'm like, all right. Like, I came from JIT camp, bro. I'm happy to be here. You know, like, it's better here.

So anyways, I go to a life of dorm and, you know, so my last, like, I think six months, maybe it was like four months, last six months, I think, maybe that's six months, I'm in iDORM and that's where I met one of my first real big mentor. During my time in that life of dorm, I was praying and asking God for a mentor, for someone to disciple me, because I never really had someone to pour into me, but I knew about it from, like, preaching on the radio and, you know, I knew I had to really get my stuff together before I got out. So I met Marcus in the dorm and he was, like, going to Bible college and he just really walked it out. He's, you know, ex-gang member and a real big influence on the pound for the kingdom of God and actively discipling guys and being very evangelistic and we just linked and man, he was just a big homie to me and, you know, for the next couple months, just discipling me, pouring into me and just living life together. I was excited for my release and I was ready to go. So not only was my first bid to where I was growing in Christ, but also to where God began to use, you know, other mature men of God, whether chaplains or chaplain services, but especially, like, Marcus, you know,

to really disciple me and to pour into me as I grew as a young man, you know, in Christ, at a young age, you know, and I got out at the age of 20. And with every intention to get out and to follow Jesus and I'll fire for the Lord, I really didn't have a game plan. I knew God had a call on my life for ministry and pastoral ship and to preach and teach the gospel. I just didn't know how that would look. But man, within weeks, you know, I immediately fall into temptation with sexual sin. I'm going to that church in the hood that I mentioned earlier that I first began to go to, but it's kind of like, you know, a church of like elderly people and not really too many people who are my age. But at first, when I get out, like everybody, like who I grew up with, you know, and I kind of felt some type of way because they weren't really there for me throughout my bid, you know, but they were there when I got out. So they were excited kind of to see me come home. And I remember they all came to church that first day. You know, I was excited too, because I kind of brought one of my friends too, who I grew up with in the street. He came to church with me. So I already knew that God could use me to like influence the people I grew up with and people who are still in the street lifestyle

to point them to Christ. And it was kind of easier for me too to like not get back into it because I felt some type of way they weren't there for me throughout my bid and all of these things. But yeah, within the first couple of weeks, man, falling into sexual sin, just feeling condemned, lacking in my daily communion with Christ and not having people up close, personal and community, holding me accountable, walking it out with me, discipling me, but then also too, just seeing a lot of my friends who I grew up with they used to buy drugs for me. And then now seeing that they not only like were, reached to where I was before I left, but they like surpassed it and they're making a lot of money, driving foreign cars, you know what I mean? And really doing their thing in the street. So now I'm out here at 20 years old and I feel far behind and I have to like look for work. And, you know, it just made me feel kind of lame. And I didn't want to be like some average Joe working a nine to five. So there was a pull on me and the inside, I think that some areas of my heart that weren't yet fully healed, that I wanted like my spot back. But I think it was more so just looking for fulfillment

through being accepted and, you know, wanting that street prestige and that street fantasy that I was always chasing. And it got halted mid pursuit because of my first prison bid. So within probably my first month, I started selling weed again. And my excuse was I wasn't gonna start selling cocaine and, you know, crack again. I was gonna just start with weed. And I got out and I started selling like large amounts of marijuana again. But then, you know, right when I got my hands wet selling the drugs, it immediately led back to cocaine and, you know, crack and pills. And, you know, I was headfirst back into the street lifestyle, you know, and just trapping and selling the drugs. And, you know, during this time, I remember I wake up, I wake up and I pray and I ask God, like and all the while, like I know who I am in Christ. And I feel so fake. I feel so like flaw because I know this isn't who I am. I know Jesus, I know he has a call on my life. And I feel like I'm intentionally going against the grain, trying to be someone who I wasn't anymore. You know, it just didn't feel, it doesn't feel real. You know, it didn't feel real in me. And like, it was just like, I was just pump faking and I was just trying to uphold this image and be this person who I knew I wasn't anymore.

But that's how I felt at first. But then after time, I began to believe the lies again. Like a tiger never changes its stripes. So yeah, I was only out for about eight months. And then I was driving, I had a whole bunch of drugs in the car and the police got behind me, but the lights on. So then there was like six cops behind me, and they were following me for a while, and I decided to put them on a high-speed chase, because I knew if I got caught with all the dope, it was over, over. So I just took them on the back streets, was on a high-speed chase, I threw all the drugs out the window when I wanted to begin to get some distance between myself and the cops. And I was probably on a high-speed chase for maybe only about 15, 20 minutes, and I came out from a back street, back into 41, I didn't realize where I was, and just going so fast, about like 70 miles per hour, I hit a speed limit sign in the middle of the median, crashed over the median, crashed the car, totaled the car, but immediately the car door was open and I'm running. They're chasing me, and I'm running for about three or four hours that night. They got helicopters, drug dogs everywhere, I'm running back through neighborhoods, finally catch me, arrest me, and I'm back in the county jail again, facing my second prison bid at the age of 21, only being out for eight months. So it was a violation of probation that sent me back to prison for two years. And I remember just getting back in the county jail, I just felt so fake again, I just felt like so flaw and hypocritical because I knew that this wasn't who I was, and I knew God had transformed my life and had a call on my life, and I just felt so much shame of just running from God's call on my life. And I remember being in the county jail and kind of like contemplating while in the county jail, like, I'm just going to thug this one out, you know what I mean? And that's what I'm thinking, you know what I mean? Because like what's the point of trying to follow Jesus again, because I'm just going

to get out and crash out and go back to the streets again. But God and His love and just the Spirit of God just leading me to repentance, you know, eventually just, you know, breaks me in the county jail and restores me. And I think during this bid is when God really began to like naturally again kind of push me not only to a deeper place of intimacy with Him, but more so as well kind of use me and walk out, beginning to discover the purpose He had upon my life. I remember in the county jail before I went back to prison, you know, just being accustomed to adult county now and what prison's like, you know, it's kind of like juvenile, like you already are used to it. You know what to expect. You're more comfortable. And God's just leading me to lead like Bible study in a dorm. Someone just asked to have Bible study with me, and I was like, sure. And then that led to like, you know, like 17 of us in one cell every morning after breakfast, you know, having Bible study. And it just like happened organically, led by the Spirit of God. And I remember waking up every morning, like getting on my knees, like, God, I don't know what to share. Like, I don't even like, you know, just like laying on my heart. And that's when God really kind of began to use me, you know, in ministry a little bit. You know, I began to walk in God's call in my life. But when I went back to prison, in the state of Florida, if you go back to prison within a year, you get sent back to the same prison. So I already knew. I was only out for eight months. I already knew I was going back to Hamilton. I was going back to the prison that I was last at, apart from, you know, from work at least. And I went to Hamilton from there, getting sent back. So I knew I was going back to Hamilton.

And I already didn't want to go back just because I was in a lifer dorm. Majority of everybody in the dorm had life. And they were excited for me getting out. They were rooting for me because I was a good, solid dude, you know what I mean? Like, there wasn't too many short-timers in the dorm. So they were excited to see me go home, especially because I was following Jesus. I was a stand-up, solid guy. And they wanted to see me get out and do right, and they were rooting for me, you know? So I remember, like, I was afraid to go back because I didn't want to have to answer to that shame that I already felt internally. And I remember, bro, just getting off the Bluebird, which is the bus. And you know, whenever, like, the Bluebird hits the pound in a prison, like, everybody on the pound is looking to see who it is, to see if it's, like, their homies from the city or from the hood or their homies from a different prison. So I remember whenever I was getting off the Bluebird, everybody's looking. And all of a sudden, I hear someone say, Man, is that Testa? Bro, no, that's Testa. And I just hear it. And they take us to the laundry room, we get our laundry, and then they have us walk down the mile, you know, to go into the chow hall. And this is where everybody can see you because you're in the center of the compound, you know, walking down the mile. And I hear it even more. Man, that's Testa. Yo, Testa, that's you, man. What are you doing? Man, what are you doing, bro? I'm just hearing that from everywhere, you know, and everybody's, like, you know, recognizing I'm back, the people who are in my dorm.

And then I see Marcus, you know, like, the main mentor that God used in my life previously in the last bit to disciple me. Then I see him. He looks at me, he goes, you know, like, I got one for you, you know. But I know he was, like, joking. And then, so I'm assigned to my dorm, but I'm purposely waiting by the barbershop because I see that Marcus is going to dinner. And I remember inside, bro, I don't want to cry. I feel so much shame. I feel so disgusted with myself. Like, I'm 21. I'm back in prison my second time. And I can't get this Jesus thing right. You know what I mean? I can't, like, walk out my walk following Jesus, and I feel so fake because of it. You know what I mean? I can't shake the streets. self-inflicted. You know, I'm doing this to myself. And I remember Marcus gets out of the child and he's walking up and he can see in my eyes like I'm about to cry and I'm hurting. And at first he jokingly like grabs me and he's like, man, I should, you know, like you should have to shoot me one, you know, cause I came back. And but he sees, you know, and I'm hurting and he just hugs me, dog. And he's like, man, it's all right, bro. It's all right. It's all right. And I feel like in that moment, like spiritually, God was just like reminding me of like the father's love for me. Like even though I felt so much shame, I felt so much condemnation of like running from

God and like going back to the streets and coming back to prison, like the loving father was doing the same thing to me. Like son, it's all right. I come back. And, you know, like Marcus was kind of like a picture of that, you know, like a big homie in the faith, a brother in Christ saying, bro, it's good. It's all right. You know what I mean? Like you were going to get it right this time. We're going to get it right this time. So that's what the second bid was for me, was me getting right. And I only had two years, you know, no probation. But just like the first bid, you know, it was just, you know, me authentically pursuing Jesus and, you know, walking it out. Like it was still gangland. Hamilton was a rough camp at that time. You know, people getting stabbed every day, it was chaotic. But you know, not only was like, you know, navigating through the conflict and just being who I am in Christ and authentically seeking Jesus, but God was also using me organically too. You know, I was young in the faith. You know, I was 21 and there was still a lot of things in my heart that I was wrestling with. I remember there was a guy in my dorm who was a close friend now and a brother in Christ. And he was my brother in Christ then, but he's from the streets too. And you know, he's from the same city. So we had a disagreement and like it kind of built tension between us. And one day on the rec yard, we had a disagreement and I took off on him, you know, in the middle of the rec yard and we're fighting in the middle of the rec yard, like two known Christians. So what a bad look for the gospel and for the church, you know, but we're street dudes,

you know, we're both from the streets and you know, we're fighting in the middle of the rec yard and the rec officers out there, the sergeant with the riot can and point blank range sprays me to my face, douses my whole body, sprays him. We spray, like sprawled out on the rec yard, getting sprayed and go to confinement. And you know, I remember being in confinement and just like wrestling with things internally. You know, I get out of confinement, they kept us separate. They kept me at like the annex. He was at the main unit and the annex was a lot worse than the main unit. And I remember getting out and like, you know, just kind of really wrestling with my walk at that point. And even internally in my mind, like thinking about getting out and selling drugs, I'm smoking weed on the rec yard, buying weed a lot. I remember this is the first time I really heard Christian hip hop. I probably had about like six months left, maybe eight months. And you know, I'm close to getting out, you know, but I'm just battling with like, can I do this? I think self doubt, you know, imposter syndrome, you know, and you know, is this for me? Is this real? Can I do this? And I'm on the rec yard smoking a joint, I'm high and I'm listening to like the regular rap station. I didn't realize that like on Fridays at 12, they had like gospel hour and a Lecrae song comes on just like you. And that's the first time I heard like Christian hip hop, like real Christian hip hop. And it impacted me. I remember I was on the rec yard and I was high and listening to that song, like it led me to tears and it led me to repentance. I remember throwing my joint and I remember just like crouching down on the rec yard and like, cause I'm getting ready for release. And I remember again, in that moment, just repenting and you know, recommitting my life

to Jesus and wanting to get out and do the right thing. At this time, people are getting stabbed every single day, helicopters are landing every other day. I was like, oh my God, my homeland, like it's going down at this prison and they shipped me to Hardy CI. And when I was at Hardy is whenever I truly first experienced like what the church was like. A lot of, it's a big lifer camp, you know, a lot of guys with life there, but there was just like a huge movement of God in that prison. And just seeing the structure of the incarcerated church and me being disciple, like immediately being plugged in Kings Highway and them kind of just identifying like a call of leadership on my life. They were just like invited me into their leadership meetings and like, I'm just like just listening to know I was about to get out. So they were all being like super intentional with me and like pouring into me and really just wanting to see me get out and do right. So for the first time in prison and really in life, like I saw like strategic kingdom missional movement of the church, you know, like basketball tournaments and you know, like outreach on the rec yard, days of evangelism, leadership meetings, like, you know, preaching in the chapel, all these chapel events, but it's all like led by the incarcerated population. And I had seen like brothers in Christ walking out their gifts in real life and like taking on roles of leadership. And it was beautiful. And it really impacted my life. And it was the first. time I really caught a glimpse of what the church should look like. And that's also, too, where God was kind of not only beginning to use me and they kind of gave me the opportunity to begin to, you know, speak and preach and teach occasionally, but also, too, I was real big in poetry at this time. I rapped my whole life, but whenever I got saved, I stopped rapping because whenever

I would rap, it was a way for me to vent and express myself. And I'd always rap in juvenile programs and things like that, or when I was in the streets, it was just about selling drugs and robbing and about pain that I was feeling, it was a way for me to vent rather than to promote it and market it. But during that bid, when I heard that first Lecrae song on the rec yard, is when I had like an instrumental on my little mp3 player, it was like a worship instrumental. And after I heard that Lecrae song, and God led me to repentance, I wrote to it. And it was just like a worship vibe, and I just was writing unto the Lord about my restoration and repentance. And I remember I began to share that with people, and they were like, yo, that's fire. And people always told me previously growing up that I had a voice, and people would listen to me, especially in music. So I began to rediscover my pen, and God began to redeem that gift of writing music and poetry. So I was released from hard to see eye at the age of 22, and I was on fire for the Lord. I had a desire to be in ministry and to walk it out full time. I think I had every good intention to get out and do right, rather than going back to my city, you know, Venice, Florida, and Sarasota County. I wanted to kind of like get into a new environment, and I moved to Tampa, Florida to live with my sister. So just to kind of get away from, you know, just old people, old places, and try something new. But for the first time in my life, I don't sell drugs. For the first time in my life, my kids are four at this point, and you know, I'm trying to be actively involved in their life, and they still like, you know, I've been in and out of their lives, so it's been breaking their heart, you know, and you know, it's challenging for them to like integrate back in their life. They know I'm their father, but like, you know, where have I been? So it's a challenge to like be there and to be present, and for them to like, you know, of course, they're young, so you know, I'm daddy, and they want to be with me. But for the first time in my life, I stopped selling drugs.

You know, I started working. I was roofing. I was going to church in Tampa, Florida, and you know, I was, you know, having some community around me, but like I was driving away to Tampa just because it was more like a church of the generation that was like my age, and it was really hip-hop, you know, centric and focused on the gospel and Christian hip-hop. So it was a long drive. I wasn't truly being plugged in community and being held accountable like I could be. And once again, to begin to wrestle with sexual sin, wrestle with, you know, just unhealthy toxic relationship with women. After a couple months, I'm not going to church. You know, again, like I know God has a call on my life. I know this isn't who I am, but at least I'm not selling drugs. At least I'm there for my kids, and I'm trying to be a father to them and be active. But I'm partying a lot. Every weekend, I'm going out, partying, clubbing, chasing women. And then one night, six months down the road, I'm at a club in Sarasota, Florida, and I'm super drunk. The last thing I remember was dancing with a girl in the club. And then apparently I get into an altercation in the back of a club. I get in a fight. I get kicked out of the club. I get in another fight in the parking lot, and I knock the guy out. And while I knock the guy out, I'm leaving the scene, and I ran over a police officer during a high-speed chase. And to this day, I barely have any recollection of that entire night. I was so drunk. I was in a severe car accident. So for the rest of my prison bid, I gained flashes of my memory. But what's said of that night was after I got kicked out of the club for a fight, and

I got into another fight in the parking lot, the guy was unconscious. Police were called while I was leaving and coming out of the parking lot. They said that the police were running over, trying to stop me as I was driving. My paperwork says that I hit the cop, and he was riding on the hood, and he was trying to deploy his gun, you know what I mean, and all these things. But from what people witnessed and what people said when they're out there was when they are running and trying to stop the vehicle, I clipped the cop and hit his leg. But apparently, they made it seem like, and they thought that I intentionally hit this police officer, and I intentionally tried to hit another police officer. They were making it seem like I was trying to gun them down, and I get in a high-speed chase. I think I was going, like they said, I was going like 90 miles an hour. And I think it was like a 2009 Nissan Altima. I don't even know if it goes 90, but probably like maybe whatever. The Royal Palm Trees in Sarasota, like on Siesta Key, they're like this thick at the base. I hit two of them, and I derouted two of them that came out of the ground. My seatbelt snapped. My airbag didn't deploy. I was ejected through the windshield like 100 yards from my vehicle. My femur snapped through my thigh. They found me unconscious, you know, like so many. yards away, like I think a hundred some yards away from my vehicle, you know, because it kept flipping and rolling. And I immediately was, you know, helicopter, bay flighted to the hospital. And I remember waking up, you know, just a brief moments in the hospital, like in the ER and going back in consciousness and finally waking up like three days later, you know, while they're taking me out of the ER and like taking me to a different room. And I got like these, my mittens are like all my hands and I'm all scarred up and banged up.

And I remember waking up and finally coming to, and I see two police officers in a room and I don't have no idea what happened. I literally have no idea what happened. The moment I wake up, I have no idea what happened. Nothing. Worst feeling in the world. I wake up, I see two cops sitting over there and I'm like just dazing in and out of consciousness. All I see is the cops. I know something's bad. A nurse comes in, I'm asking her what happened. She told me I was in a car accident. I'm thinking about the friends I was with that night. I'm like, are they okay? Are they okay? And she's like, who? I'm like, you know, my friends. She's like, you weren't with anybody. I'm like, what about the person I hit? Are they okay? Are they okay? She's like, you didn't hit anybody. You crashed into trees. And then I keep like just going back to sleep in and out of consciousness. And finally, when I come to, I ask the cops like what happened, what happened? And I just, you know, from their perspective, try to kill like two police officers, try to run over multiple of their, you know, fellow friends and coworkers. So they're mad. They're upset. They're like, you about to do life in prison. That's what happened.

And they won't even tell me what happened. You know, so I'm literally cuffed to a hospital bed, like thinking that like I'm in some deep stuff. I've already been to prison twice. I'm 23 years old at this time. And like, I'm, I know, I don't know what it is, but I know I'm in for. And I remember a detective came in the room. I just could tell by his appearance, he walked in. He was a detective. And right when he walked in, you know, I know how it goes, you know, especially in the streets, you know, you don't say nothing. You don't give them no story, no statement. So they don't try to use nothing against you. He walks in. I'm like, I don't want to talk to you. I don't got no rap. I'm mad. He's like, all right, whatever. You're making my job easier for me. And he just walks past me and he goes and he talks to all the officers in the room. And I'm listening to them as they speak. And he's like replaying to them the whole incident of the night. And he's probably doing it, just hoping that I would chime in and maybe he would get some type of statement from me. I try to defend myself. But for the first time, I hear what I'm being charged with and what I supposedly did. You know, hitting two police officers with my vehicle, high speed chase, I'm gonna die, you know, fighting in the club, fighting in the parking lot. All the charges that he was mentioning, like aggravated assault with a law enforcement officer, aggravated battery with a deadly weapon on a law enforcement officer, aggravated

battery on a civilian, fleeing and eluding, DUI, aggravated fleeing and eluding. All these are charges that can immediately, you know, habitual violent offender act to me or, you know, PRR, you know, like these are mandatory. Like if I get enhanced with those enhancements, at least 15, 25, you know what I mean? I'm looking at some, at least 25, I'm looking at big time. And I remember just laying in the hospital bed. And the first thought that comes to my mind was like, this is God's chastisement. You know, this is God leading me to repentance. I remember like a month before that, I was at church in, the church I was going to at that time in Tampa. And the pastor didn't see me for a couple months. So he's like, bro, you all right? And I'm like, nah. So he's like, talk to me after service. And he's asking me what's going on. I tell him I'm just messing with girls and partying. And even though I'm not selling drugs, I'm not like back in the streets. I know I'm not walking this out, following Jesus faithfully. And I feel fake. I feel flawed. And I just can't get it right. And I just feel like, am I ever going to get it right? I mean, I'm glad I'm not selling drugs no more, but I'm not walking right with Jesus. So I remember he prayed for me and while he was praying, he's like, God, whatever it takes, do whatever it takes. It's a dangerous prayer, God. Do whatever it takes. And I remember driving home that night from church, playing worship music, crying, God, whatever it takes. Like so serious, so like broken before the Lord, like, God, whatever it takes, like,

I just want to be faithful. I just want to follow you, whatever it takes. And it was only weeks after that, that, you know, that crime happened and that night happened. So I remember like one of my first conscious thoughts besides the fear of the amount of time that I was facing was number one, like, this is God and His faithfulness and His love leading me to repentance. It's God chastising me, disciplining me, putting me on my neck with my own like wrong decision making, of course. But also too, like the other thought that came to my mind was like, maybe this is what it takes. Maybe this is what God's going to use to really have me get it right this time. You know, so I remember getting transferred from the hospital to the county jail and literally the worst pain ever in my life to heal from a broken femur with like no narcotics in a confinement cell. I'm on like administrative confinement, high security custody because I got charges against, you know, that local law enforcement, you know, and I remember waking up and all the officers. and the county jail officers are like looking in the window, I'm waking up for days for the first week, like in and out of this, like I'm still recovering from surgery, a major surgery and they're all looking at me through the glass, you know, high-profile cases all over the news and I just remember just really wrestling with myself again, 23 years old, you know, facing a lot of prison time and here I am again, 23 years old, my third time in prison and you know, eventually they offered me, I had a paid attorney and I had one and only offer and it was nine years and my attorney said, listen, like this is the one and only plea deal, you know, this is the very minimum that your charges, you know, score out to, so I knew my only option was to take the nine years, I took the nine years and I remember at first I was just mad at God, I was mad at myself, I was healing from a broken leg, I caught an outside charge in the county jail, I got in a fight over the phone, you know, I got an outside charge battery on detainee, I was just mad at the world, I was mad at myself, I was mad that I was going to miss the entirety of my kid's childhood, I was

mad with my own unfaithfulness, my own rebellion against God and I was just mad and I remember coming back from court, being sentenced to nine years and at this point I'm in confinement, I'm yelling and cussing at the police, they have to extract me from my cell, they put me in administrative confinement because I'm just wilding, I'm just like, I don't even care, you know, like I know eventually I'm going to repent and surrender back in the will of God but at this point I'm hurt and I'm angry and I remember I'm back in my confinement cell after I get sentenced to nine years and I cried on the phone a couple times with my mom while all this was going on but at this point I just felt numb and I remember just feeling so much shame and so much disgust and obviously in being in prison, like in growing up in juvenile detention programs, you see how kids kill themselves, like with their sheets on the sprinkler and, you know, the shower, like you see it, you know, you know how it happens. I remember for the first time in my life, while incarcerated, I remember I didn't eat for days, I remember for days I just stared at the sprinkler and I genuinely was just contemplating about committing suicide, the end of my life, I just felt so much shame in myself for continually coming back to prison and not being able to break the cycle but how I was hurting everybody, hurting my mom, you know what I mean, hurting my kids, you know what I mean, and I just felt like giving up, you know, and I was hurting and I remember it was the guy that actually used an officer there, she was like a motherly officer and she really liked me despite a lot of the people not liking me because of my high profile case against officers in that county and I remember she came in there and she was just asking me if I was okay and she was just encouraging me, you know, that God's got purpose to it all and, you know, so by the grace of God, you know, I end up going to prison and at first wanting to thug this one out, I'm going to thug this one out, I'm not going to repent, I'm not going to surrender and get back in the will of God, I'm just going to try to smoke weed and hang out and, you know, just go throughout my time and try to, you know, do the best that I can but I got my mp3, like when you get your new mp3, like it still has your old music from, you know, your previous bid, so my mp3 is loaded with nothing but worship and Christian hip-hop and that's all it took, you know, after like a month back in prison, just listening to the worship music and the Christian hip-hop that was on it and

God just reminded me who I was and leading me to repentance. So my third bid, my last bid, I did nine years, well I did seven years and eight months but throughout that bid, man, and my brokenness, my kids being four years old, knowing I was going to miss the entirety of their childhood, I was so disgusted with myself, being in prison like I said for the third time at 23 and just not being able to break it, I was just so broken, I was just broken, like when I repented that time, I was like, God, like you got it, like here I am, like I'm done with everything and so at the beginning of the bid, God just led me to a deeper place of intimacy, of like full surrender and at that same time, simultaneously, God just put like a fire in me like never before for ministry and at first I was thinking like God was just preparing me for release, you know, God was just giving me vision about release and ministry for release but I remember I saw like at Hardy CI and King's Highway like how effective inmate-led ministry was so like there was a fire in me like for God to see to do the same thing in our compound and I remember like going to the chaplain like sharing with him this vision, this fire that I have, like bro, you got to understand we got to have like inmate-led ministry, it's so effective and immediately within a month, I went with my daughter Rocky and shared with him the vision and we planted our first church, Soldiers of Christ ministry and it was super organic but it was beautiful, man, we'd go to the rec yard every Sundays, you know, I have two-hour services in the rec yard and all the brothers would come together and we'd worship together collectively and we'd preach and teach and me and Pastor were just like leading the flock and overseeing and serving and we'd evangelize. I just like, of course, 24-7 on the regular, but we intentionally had like evangelism days on Wednesdays. We do outreach events in the dorm, Bible trivia, like just doing everything that I seen before, you know, other men of God exemplify before me from previous prison bids and beginning to walk it out. So that's how the whole prison bid was, man. I was at four different prisons, my last prison bid. And every prison, God blessed me with opportunity to, you know, plant and to really receive vision from the Lord for inmate-led ministry.

So God was using like that whole last prison bid as like a missionary journey. And God was really refining my calling and my purpose. And I seen how God was using me to reach guys who were still caught up in the streets. Like I was always in gangland, and God was always using me to like reach those who were like still gang active and gangbanging and violent and running down on people with knives and robbing and all the conflict and chaos. Like that's who God was drawing to the ministry. That's who God was leading us to disciple and pour into. And it was super organic, all on the rec yard and the dorms, and there would just be movement throughout the compound. So the whole last prison bid to seven years and eight months, it was just a missionary journey. I was blessed to be able to get my college degree, I got my associates in arts for general education. And the whole last previous prison bid was just transformative for my deepened surrender and intimacy with Jesus. But also too, God was just showing me the call and the gift that he placed upon my life for pastorship, for apostolically, and just for church planning, and just as an evangelist, open air preaching on the rec yard. It was just a mission. The whole bid was just organic, beautiful, chain gang ministry, and it was fire. So during that last prison bid too, God was really using me with hip hop, but more evangelistically. I didn't really have a desire to get out and do music or anything like that. It was just like everybody would be in the back of the dorm, beating on the locker, beating on the wall, and everyone's talking about shoot them up, bang, bang, trap, street stuff. And the spirit of God would just begin to stir me up, you know what I mean? To go back there. And these are all my homies anyway, so not only listening to them rap, but God would begin to lead me to slide. And while I'm rapping, I'm rapping about the streets and my experiences, but I'm rapping

about the streets and my experiences from a different angle, and how God brought me out and how that was lies at the end of me, and that's what the enemy was using to destroy me. God was using music evangelistically, and it was just a tool. So I'd rap all the time at the chapel, in the rec yard, in the dorm, but whenever He died and God met me that morning, you know, the following morning after I heard about His death, and God began to lay vision to speak to me and give me vision for release, God spoke to me that He was going to use music as a tool, as a platform to scale ministry upon release to reach the streets with the gospel, and that music was just going to be an attention getter. It was going to be a means of which the gospel could be communicated, but it would just be the platform in which the ministry would scale. And God gave me a vision right there in the middle of my bid, and that was fire for the rest of my bid. I think He gave it to me in like 2016, I got out in 2021, and that fire within me each and every day led me to keep rapping and writing music and planning a documentary, and this vision, everything for Black Hustle and Black Hustle Entertainment, the whole vision, everything that God's doing now, God birthed that vision while I was in prison. God gave me the template, God gave me the blueprint, but most importantly, as God was leading me to a deeper intimacy with Jesus, walking in, I was learning how to be faithful in prison. Even with my own struggles, my own flaws, God was healing me from, when I fall, I stop rebelling and running and straying because of shame and condemnation, but I'll get up. I walk in perpetual repentance, I walk in a focus, I walk in a calling purpose, discipling others, you know, and that last prison bid was a missionary journey, was really what God used to solidify my faith and my walk and really discover who I am in Christ and the purpose that He had for my life and really walk it out. I would tell myself, like the 22-year-old, 21-year-old who got out my second time in prison and, you know, who was about to be facing my third prison bid to prevent me from going back, I think I would just speak to myself or anybody in that situation, you know,

to remind them that, like, yo, when God has a call on your life, I would say that to myself, when God has a call on your life or anyone's life, like, that call is, like, irrevocable, like God's going to fulfill that, you know, but I do also think that, you know, there is a willful surrender on our end in how that looks, you know, is it going to be prolonged or where is it going to be, you know, are you going to walk that thing out in prison or are you going to walk that thing out in society? I would just remind myself that, like, God has a call on my life, that He loves me, He sees me, He's with me, and that my fulfillment is ultimately in Jesus, it's not in the streets, it's not in anything else, it's not in trying to find acceptance. I think that's really the core wound that I wrestle with. entire life was I felt rejected and abandoned for my father not being there. He's a great guy and I'm not saying nothing bad about my dad, he just didn't have a dad really and he didn't know how to be a dad and he really couldn't be there. So him not being present or active in my life made me feel abandoned, rejected, and worthless. And I saw acceptance in the streets and from fulfillment of how people perceived me. So I think the core issue was I needed to recognize and understand that Jesus was my fulfillment and him alone. He's got a call in my life and if you don't surrender now, you're going to surrender sometime or another as you want to be in society or prison.