It was freestyle friday in your everyday typical NYC public high school. All the bigger MC's of the school were spittin', showin' the crowd of kids their rhymin' skillz. Everybody was hype. Hype enough to make me wanna spit my bars. But a white boy had never spit in school before. It was literally unheard of.

"So who's next", said James, the almighty beat master flex of all time. After a short time of people looking around for the next MC to spit, a voice arose from the crowd. "I'll spit", said I. Almost immediately after, my friend Vegas (a well respected MC) advised me not to spit because it was a tough crowd. I began to hesitate, and i got butterflies in my stomach. But I'm not the type to front, around an anxious crowd of haters, MC's, and pretty girls.

"Na, fuck that! I'm spittin'. James, kick that damn beat." He started it up with that Jay-Z, "give it to me" beat by hitting the table with palms, knuckles, and a pen. It sounded hot. I had memorized my bars and rehearsed them all the time so it all naturally flowed. All I was worried about was the crowds reaction. They got hype after a few punch lines, and everybody was amazed by the fact that not only did a white boy spit, he set it off. When i was done with my verse, I was still so nervous that I had to leave the lunchroom to get a drink and calm down.

I heard mixed a opinions towards my rhymes, but most importantly, no boo's from the haters. I thought to myself, mission accomplished. Now that's hip-hop