Mike (2022–…): Season 1, Episode 6 - Jailbird - full transcript
Mike reflects on his 3 years behind bars at the Indiana Department of Corrections.
I'm back.
Back to what my mother
and everyone else
said was my destiny
no matter how many fights
I won or millions I earned.
Right back where I started, man.
Maybe this is who I am.
Racing pigeons
can fly 1,000 miles.
But they always come
right back to that
dirty box they call home.
Six years might as well be life.
I'm 25, in my prime.
Snatching the title back from
Buster would've been cake.
But when I get out,
I'll be 30 fuckin' 1.
Not a lot of 31-year-old
champions
of the world out there.
Especially after six years
of no training, bad food.
Bend and spread.
Prison steals
everything it can from you.
Every hope I had
is all fucked up now.
Who will I be when
I get out of here?
Welcome home, Champ.
And by then,
will anyone even care?
Hey, Mike.
I'm Ray Ray.
I feel a little bad about
how Ray Ray and I got started.
But it was fucking prison, man.
I needed to claim that shit.
I wasn't about to be
anyone's bitch.
Can you imagine livin'
with me in a 8x9 foot cell?
Ray Ray turned out to be
more patient than Job, man.
Ray Ray tried to keep me
out of trouble.
As if anyone had ever
succeeded at that.
Now's the time for you
to figure out
what you're gonna do when you
get out of this place.
But you got time
to figure that shit out.
Keep fuckin' around, though,
the System'll steal
your future from you.
Take it from one who knows.
I ain't got no future.
You wanna
make this worth something?
Read books.
Real ones.
Starting with The Constitution.
Fuck you.
Those first months,
I had to prove I wasn't a punk.
Because everyone was
looking to make their name
by taking a shot at me.
Or so I thought.
You eat that shit.
Probably pissed in it,
creepy fuck.
Damn!
Tyson, you tree jumper fuck!
Tree jumper?
Never heard that one before.
Sir, tree jumper.
What do you think it mean?
Uh, probably
some kind of racial, uh...
"You're a monkey,
climbing trees."
You know, I should kick
your ass for saying that.
You're wrong.
Turns out it's a nickname
for a rapist
hiding behind a tree,
waiting for women to walk by
so he can pounce on them.
I ain't fuckin'
do nothin' like that.
So I let him know
he'd been misinformed.
They put me
in solitary for that one.
Alone in a small dark pit
23 hours a day
with nothing but my thoughts.
And my thoughts weren't
that healthy to begin with.
It's designed to murder hope.
It works.
Psst, Mike!
Big fan.
I brought you your mail, homie.
Keep the faith.
We are showin' up strong.
I put the article in here.
The people love you, Mike.
People were talking.
We will not let Desiree
get away with using us
to destroy one of the greatest
men we've ever known!
I had my supporters,
including this guy.
We're gonna argue
that Desiree perjured herself.
She denied retaining an attorney
to go after you
in that civil court
before the criminal case
even started.
Meaning she is all
about the money, honey!
Alan Dershowitz,
Harvard professor.
Best lawyer in the world.
More like all talk, big bill.
An albino Don King.
I lost my appeal,
and the Indiana Supreme Court
refused to review it.
That's the day I lost faith
in The System.
Time got real.
Ah, fuck.
You gotta stop
fucking with the guards.
From my sister.
They can't break Iron Mike.
Can I borrow that?
- The Constitution?
- Yeah.
Better yet.
Keep it.
It was hard
for me to believe people
telling me
I had a bright future...
Barkim, Cus, now Ray Ray.
I came from shit.
As far as I knew, I was shit.
Now, I know some of y'all think
I deserved to be locked up.
Agree to disagree.
Point is, I became just
another nigga with a number.
And in the '90s, niggas
with numbers was big business.
You gotta understand.
In the '90s,
there was a war on "drugs."
This...
this is crack cocaine,
seized a few days ago
by drug enforcement agents
in a park just across the
street from the White House.
Ray Ray's bag
was half that size,
and they took half his life.
It was 100 to 1 disparity
between the amount of cocaine
that triggered a mandatory
minimum sentence versus crack.
And you wanna know why there's
so many broth as in here?
In an Indiana cornfield?
'Cause white boys selling
coke got suspended sentences,
while broth as selling crack
got 20 years.
We need more prisons,
more jails, more courts,
more prosecutors.
Even with all those new prisons,
we were packed tight
and wound tighter.
These people don't need prisons.
They need psychiatrists,
myself included.
But it's not about correction,
it's about punishment.
Treat people like animals...
Who the fuck
do you think you are?
They're gonna fuckin' roar.
Ah, what can I say?
I'm a stubborn fuck.
Let's go.
But so was Ray Ray.
And eventually, he got me
reading all kinds of shit.
Better than comic books,
Young Blood?
Not better, but interesting.
He never let the pigs
get him down.
Even in prison.
He saw The System
for how it really works.
Don King used to say
he didn't serve his prison time,
his prison time served him.
I never knew what he
was talking about.
Now, you do.
Inmate number 856951,
time to go.
What's this about?
Oh, you're being
transferred to Supermax,
effective immediately.
What?
This don't make no sense!
- Hey, let him go!
- Ah, ah, ah, ah!
Gimme an excuse.
My people ain't
gonna know where I am!
Mike, call my sister!
317-555-0153!
Mike, call my sister!
317-555-0153!
I never saw Ray Ray again,
and I was looking for revenge.
Mike Tyson.
And thanks to the
stupid fucking guards,
- I found it.
- Lloyd Franklin.
Shut the fuck up
and don't touch my shit.
I know Ray Ray
taught you better.
When I got
transferred here in '88,
Ray Ray showed me the terrain.
Like your fan mail, for example.
Solid gold, broth a.
"As per your request,
I have deposited $50"
"in your commissary account.
God Bless you, Champion."
That's like $1,000 already.
Uh-uh, move that
decimal point, playboy.
More like 10,000, and rising.
This young lady sent photos.
"Vicky"?
Even the uglies get 40 in trade.
But like any solid franchise,
it expanded quickly.
This joint
was ripe for a takeover.
It was like Let's Make a Deal,
prison edition,
and I was Monty fucking Hall.
'Kay, sweetie,
I'm gonna put you on the phone
with my good buddy...
- Cephus.
- Cephus.
I want you
to show him a good time, okay?
Hi.
Man, fuck the outside world.
In here, I don't need to
train every morning at 5:00.
I don't need to be
beating up motherfuckers
for your entertainment.
In here, I'm an entrepreneur.
Safe, pressure's off.
I had everyone
on the inside working for me.
Shit, I even had this dumb
motherfucker bring me donuts.
So I was the King of the Prison,
and I liked it that way.
What I wanted was to just
stay in prison and hide.
Outside felt like prison.
And I'm... you know,
I'm just being real
with you guys right now.
I just kept pushing the envelope
with the kind of shit
I was getting into.
But instead of tacking
more time on my sentence,
they just kept shaving it off
for my "good behavior."
You sure about this?
They'll throw the book at you
for sure if you get caught.
Don't worry about it.
A'ight.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
It was the perfect cover.
I stayed
out of their Islam shit,
they stayed out of my shit.
We started spending
a lot of time there.
These guys were always busy
praying to their higher power.
I had my own higher power.
They never said
a fucking word to me.
- Until one day.
- Hey, Champ.
Champ, check this out.
$900 value, all right?
You can get faxes on this shit.
One hour battery life.
You even got a stylus
and you can write
in your calendar,
you know what I'm saying?
I'm in jail, nigga.
What kinda appointments
I'm makin'?
- You right, Champ, you right.
- Yeah.
So, I mean,
if you don't want it...
Just take this shit out of here.
Okay, all right.
The new toy of yours won't work.
Bullshit, it's a phone.
Ain't nothing but a brick.
Unless it talk to the upstairs.
Satellite.
We don't get
that kind of signal out here.
You use this space
to transact your business.
But you always stay
for the prayers.
You could join us in prayer,
if you like.
The only thing I ask
is that you remove your shoes.
At first,
the appeal of Islam was
they're just
the baddest of the bad.
First time I saw it was
Don's chauffeur, Captain Joe.
Ali is a multimillionaire!
Larry Holmes a multimillionaire.
Mike Tyson sleeps
on a bed of money!
I make you HBO motherfuckers
a fortune.
You love my Black ass!
So don't waste my
motherfucking time!
I need something to eat.
This bean pie's
pretty delicious.
- Mm.
- Man,
Captain Joe was no joke.
This dude taught Malcolm X,
and he was
Elijah Muhammad's ace.
Now I'm sitting here trying
to make motherfuckers money.
I tell you
I need something to eat,
and the best thing
you can come up with
is a motherfucking bean pie?
God damn it!
I need some real food!
Pick it up, fry it up.
Come on.
You know I don't touch pork.
Then motherfucker, you fired.
What'd you do that for, Don?
Mike, sometimes
you got to show these
motherfuckers who's in charge.
I said I'll call you tomorrow.
And don't worry about HBO.
They'll come around.
They always do.
Who the fuck are these niggas?
Brother King.
I'm here to respectfully convey
Captain Joe is never terminated.
If anyone is to be terminated,
it will be you.
Yeah, Don didn't fuck
with Captain Joe after that.
These guys
were bad motherfuckers,
but they also had some really
interesting stuff to say.
You...
It's chicken, it's not pork.
I should probably jog more.
There's no boxing in here.
Indiana prison rules.
That's all external.
How exactly do you intend
to address your flabby spirit?
You got
less than a year in here,
if you manage
to stay out of trouble.
But the true freedom?
The true freedom...
comes from elevating
above base pursuits.
Are you ready to do that?
The fucking guy knew his shit.
I gotta say, I liked him.
Nobody had talked to me
like that since Cus.
I had to get in shape
spiritually, then physically.
You know, Don only cared
about the second part.
I had maybe six months left
and he was hyping the world
for my triumphant return.
Every million dollars
added to my purse
was another million pounds
of pressure,
scaring me shit less about
whether I could still bring it.
For all of you.
I mean, if you even
still wanted to see me.
Ah, man,
I was freaking the fuck out.
So I asked for help.
Dr. Angelou, I didn't...
I didn't think you'd show.
You asked.
And if I'm being honest,
I'm not exactly sure
what I can say to you.
But if a word from me can help,
then certainly
I can find that word.
Still, even with all
they're saying about me...
I approach people
as they are now,
without judgment
for what they have been.
Even Mike Tyson.
That we all have
the possibility of becoming.
"You may write me
down in history"
"with your bitter, twisted lies.
"You may trod me in the dirt,
but still, like dust,
I'll rise."
I love when someone
quotes me to me.
I wish I was as knowledgeable
about prizefighting.
Well, the thing is,
I've been really trying.
Been training again,
and even better, reading.
I'm just trying to be
a better man, you know?
For you or for them?
Where does that leave you when
you're not their Champ anymore?
Don't touch him.
You can be more than that.
Excuse me, officer.
Would you be so kind as to
take a picture of me
and Mr. Tyson?
It's beautiful, broth a.
Maya be reppin' the culture
for real.
50.
Say what?
- For the photo.
- 50 bucks.
Yeah, I sold the picture...
And donuts.
Do you know how hard it is
to get fucking donuts in prison?
But those words,
they stayed with me.
The thing is,
no fighter in history
ever got back on top
after three years away.
No one ever came out
of prison in one piece.
Mentally, spiritually,
anything else.
What made everyone think
I would be the one?
The world is waiting
for your return tomorrow.
Not mine, Mike Tyson's.
Don says
he's worth $100 million.
What's Mike Tyson worth?
Mike Tyson ain't worth shit.
Mike Tyson feels safer in here.
And why do you think that is?
I know what you're trying to do.
You're trying to say
this is Allah's way
of telling me
to leave The Game behind.
Devote my life to what?
Look, I walk out
these doors tomorrow.
I don't need no more
riddles or stories,
none of that bullshit.
Just tell me what
the fuck I need to do.
Mike Tyson.
You serve no one but Allah.
And with that knowledge,
you can choose
whatever path you want.
Man, I was terrified
to walk out those doors.
My life was so
out of control out there.
In prison, I made
the rules and I ran things.
In prayer,
I was finally able to make
all those outside voices
shut the fuck up.
Peace and mercy
in Allah be on you.
Peace and mercy in Allah
be on you.
What if I
couldn't fight no more?
I was just so scared
you guys were gonna hate me.
But I was
just as scared of going back
to the old, fucked up Mike.
The guy who had everyone,
including me,
convinced I was gonna
end up in an early grave.
Those were my choices.
I could go back
to being Cus's monster.
Don's meal ticket.
Or I could be
the elevated man Ray Ray,
Imam Siddiq,
and Maya saw inside of me...
That I wanted to be.
And I had to decide now.
Back to what my mother
and everyone else
said was my destiny
no matter how many fights
I won or millions I earned.
Right back where I started, man.
Maybe this is who I am.
Racing pigeons
can fly 1,000 miles.
But they always come
right back to that
dirty box they call home.
Six years might as well be life.
I'm 25, in my prime.
Snatching the title back from
Buster would've been cake.
But when I get out,
I'll be 30 fuckin' 1.
Not a lot of 31-year-old
champions
of the world out there.
Especially after six years
of no training, bad food.
Bend and spread.
Prison steals
everything it can from you.
Every hope I had
is all fucked up now.
Who will I be when
I get out of here?
Welcome home, Champ.
And by then,
will anyone even care?
Hey, Mike.
I'm Ray Ray.
I feel a little bad about
how Ray Ray and I got started.
But it was fucking prison, man.
I needed to claim that shit.
I wasn't about to be
anyone's bitch.
Can you imagine livin'
with me in a 8x9 foot cell?
Ray Ray turned out to be
more patient than Job, man.
Ray Ray tried to keep me
out of trouble.
As if anyone had ever
succeeded at that.
Now's the time for you
to figure out
what you're gonna do when you
get out of this place.
But you got time
to figure that shit out.
Keep fuckin' around, though,
the System'll steal
your future from you.
Take it from one who knows.
I ain't got no future.
You wanna
make this worth something?
Read books.
Real ones.
Starting with The Constitution.
Fuck you.
Those first months,
I had to prove I wasn't a punk.
Because everyone was
looking to make their name
by taking a shot at me.
Or so I thought.
You eat that shit.
Probably pissed in it,
creepy fuck.
Damn!
Tyson, you tree jumper fuck!
Tree jumper?
Never heard that one before.
Sir, tree jumper.
What do you think it mean?
Uh, probably
some kind of racial, uh...
"You're a monkey,
climbing trees."
You know, I should kick
your ass for saying that.
You're wrong.
Turns out it's a nickname
for a rapist
hiding behind a tree,
waiting for women to walk by
so he can pounce on them.
I ain't fuckin'
do nothin' like that.
So I let him know
he'd been misinformed.
They put me
in solitary for that one.
Alone in a small dark pit
23 hours a day
with nothing but my thoughts.
And my thoughts weren't
that healthy to begin with.
It's designed to murder hope.
It works.
Psst, Mike!
Big fan.
I brought you your mail, homie.
Keep the faith.
We are showin' up strong.
I put the article in here.
The people love you, Mike.
People were talking.
We will not let Desiree
get away with using us
to destroy one of the greatest
men we've ever known!
I had my supporters,
including this guy.
We're gonna argue
that Desiree perjured herself.
She denied retaining an attorney
to go after you
in that civil court
before the criminal case
even started.
Meaning she is all
about the money, honey!
Alan Dershowitz,
Harvard professor.
Best lawyer in the world.
More like all talk, big bill.
An albino Don King.
I lost my appeal,
and the Indiana Supreme Court
refused to review it.
That's the day I lost faith
in The System.
Time got real.
Ah, fuck.
You gotta stop
fucking with the guards.
From my sister.
They can't break Iron Mike.
Can I borrow that?
- The Constitution?
- Yeah.
Better yet.
Keep it.
It was hard
for me to believe people
telling me
I had a bright future...
Barkim, Cus, now Ray Ray.
I came from shit.
As far as I knew, I was shit.
Now, I know some of y'all think
I deserved to be locked up.
Agree to disagree.
Point is, I became just
another nigga with a number.
And in the '90s, niggas
with numbers was big business.
You gotta understand.
In the '90s,
there was a war on "drugs."
This...
this is crack cocaine,
seized a few days ago
by drug enforcement agents
in a park just across the
street from the White House.
Ray Ray's bag
was half that size,
and they took half his life.
It was 100 to 1 disparity
between the amount of cocaine
that triggered a mandatory
minimum sentence versus crack.
And you wanna know why there's
so many broth as in here?
In an Indiana cornfield?
'Cause white boys selling
coke got suspended sentences,
while broth as selling crack
got 20 years.
We need more prisons,
more jails, more courts,
more prosecutors.
Even with all those new prisons,
we were packed tight
and wound tighter.
These people don't need prisons.
They need psychiatrists,
myself included.
But it's not about correction,
it's about punishment.
Treat people like animals...
Who the fuck
do you think you are?
They're gonna fuckin' roar.
Ah, what can I say?
I'm a stubborn fuck.
Let's go.
But so was Ray Ray.
And eventually, he got me
reading all kinds of shit.
Better than comic books,
Young Blood?
Not better, but interesting.
He never let the pigs
get him down.
Even in prison.
He saw The System
for how it really works.
Don King used to say
he didn't serve his prison time,
his prison time served him.
I never knew what he
was talking about.
Now, you do.
Inmate number 856951,
time to go.
What's this about?
Oh, you're being
transferred to Supermax,
effective immediately.
What?
This don't make no sense!
- Hey, let him go!
- Ah, ah, ah, ah!
Gimme an excuse.
My people ain't
gonna know where I am!
Mike, call my sister!
317-555-0153!
Mike, call my sister!
317-555-0153!
I never saw Ray Ray again,
and I was looking for revenge.
Mike Tyson.
And thanks to the
stupid fucking guards,
- I found it.
- Lloyd Franklin.
Shut the fuck up
and don't touch my shit.
I know Ray Ray
taught you better.
When I got
transferred here in '88,
Ray Ray showed me the terrain.
Like your fan mail, for example.
Solid gold, broth a.
"As per your request,
I have deposited $50"
"in your commissary account.
God Bless you, Champion."
That's like $1,000 already.
Uh-uh, move that
decimal point, playboy.
More like 10,000, and rising.
This young lady sent photos.
"Vicky"?
Even the uglies get 40 in trade.
But like any solid franchise,
it expanded quickly.
This joint
was ripe for a takeover.
It was like Let's Make a Deal,
prison edition,
and I was Monty fucking Hall.
'Kay, sweetie,
I'm gonna put you on the phone
with my good buddy...
- Cephus.
- Cephus.
I want you
to show him a good time, okay?
Hi.
Man, fuck the outside world.
In here, I don't need to
train every morning at 5:00.
I don't need to be
beating up motherfuckers
for your entertainment.
In here, I'm an entrepreneur.
Safe, pressure's off.
I had everyone
on the inside working for me.
Shit, I even had this dumb
motherfucker bring me donuts.
So I was the King of the Prison,
and I liked it that way.
What I wanted was to just
stay in prison and hide.
Outside felt like prison.
And I'm... you know,
I'm just being real
with you guys right now.
I just kept pushing the envelope
with the kind of shit
I was getting into.
But instead of tacking
more time on my sentence,
they just kept shaving it off
for my "good behavior."
You sure about this?
They'll throw the book at you
for sure if you get caught.
Don't worry about it.
A'ight.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
It was the perfect cover.
I stayed
out of their Islam shit,
they stayed out of my shit.
We started spending
a lot of time there.
These guys were always busy
praying to their higher power.
I had my own higher power.
They never said
a fucking word to me.
- Until one day.
- Hey, Champ.
Champ, check this out.
$900 value, all right?
You can get faxes on this shit.
One hour battery life.
You even got a stylus
and you can write
in your calendar,
you know what I'm saying?
I'm in jail, nigga.
What kinda appointments
I'm makin'?
- You right, Champ, you right.
- Yeah.
So, I mean,
if you don't want it...
Just take this shit out of here.
Okay, all right.
The new toy of yours won't work.
Bullshit, it's a phone.
Ain't nothing but a brick.
Unless it talk to the upstairs.
Satellite.
We don't get
that kind of signal out here.
You use this space
to transact your business.
But you always stay
for the prayers.
You could join us in prayer,
if you like.
The only thing I ask
is that you remove your shoes.
At first,
the appeal of Islam was
they're just
the baddest of the bad.
First time I saw it was
Don's chauffeur, Captain Joe.
Ali is a multimillionaire!
Larry Holmes a multimillionaire.
Mike Tyson sleeps
on a bed of money!
I make you HBO motherfuckers
a fortune.
You love my Black ass!
So don't waste my
motherfucking time!
I need something to eat.
This bean pie's
pretty delicious.
- Mm.
- Man,
Captain Joe was no joke.
This dude taught Malcolm X,
and he was
Elijah Muhammad's ace.
Now I'm sitting here trying
to make motherfuckers money.
I tell you
I need something to eat,
and the best thing
you can come up with
is a motherfucking bean pie?
God damn it!
I need some real food!
Pick it up, fry it up.
Come on.
You know I don't touch pork.
Then motherfucker, you fired.
What'd you do that for, Don?
Mike, sometimes
you got to show these
motherfuckers who's in charge.
I said I'll call you tomorrow.
And don't worry about HBO.
They'll come around.
They always do.
Who the fuck are these niggas?
Brother King.
I'm here to respectfully convey
Captain Joe is never terminated.
If anyone is to be terminated,
it will be you.
Yeah, Don didn't fuck
with Captain Joe after that.
These guys
were bad motherfuckers,
but they also had some really
interesting stuff to say.
You...
It's chicken, it's not pork.
I should probably jog more.
There's no boxing in here.
Indiana prison rules.
That's all external.
How exactly do you intend
to address your flabby spirit?
You got
less than a year in here,
if you manage
to stay out of trouble.
But the true freedom?
The true freedom...
comes from elevating
above base pursuits.
Are you ready to do that?
The fucking guy knew his shit.
I gotta say, I liked him.
Nobody had talked to me
like that since Cus.
I had to get in shape
spiritually, then physically.
You know, Don only cared
about the second part.
I had maybe six months left
and he was hyping the world
for my triumphant return.
Every million dollars
added to my purse
was another million pounds
of pressure,
scaring me shit less about
whether I could still bring it.
For all of you.
I mean, if you even
still wanted to see me.
Ah, man,
I was freaking the fuck out.
So I asked for help.
Dr. Angelou, I didn't...
I didn't think you'd show.
You asked.
And if I'm being honest,
I'm not exactly sure
what I can say to you.
But if a word from me can help,
then certainly
I can find that word.
Still, even with all
they're saying about me...
I approach people
as they are now,
without judgment
for what they have been.
Even Mike Tyson.
That we all have
the possibility of becoming.
"You may write me
down in history"
"with your bitter, twisted lies.
"You may trod me in the dirt,
but still, like dust,
I'll rise."
I love when someone
quotes me to me.
I wish I was as knowledgeable
about prizefighting.
Well, the thing is,
I've been really trying.
Been training again,
and even better, reading.
I'm just trying to be
a better man, you know?
For you or for them?
Where does that leave you when
you're not their Champ anymore?
Don't touch him.
You can be more than that.
Excuse me, officer.
Would you be so kind as to
take a picture of me
and Mr. Tyson?
It's beautiful, broth a.
Maya be reppin' the culture
for real.
50.
Say what?
- For the photo.
- 50 bucks.
Yeah, I sold the picture...
And donuts.
Do you know how hard it is
to get fucking donuts in prison?
But those words,
they stayed with me.
The thing is,
no fighter in history
ever got back on top
after three years away.
No one ever came out
of prison in one piece.
Mentally, spiritually,
anything else.
What made everyone think
I would be the one?
The world is waiting
for your return tomorrow.
Not mine, Mike Tyson's.
Don says
he's worth $100 million.
What's Mike Tyson worth?
Mike Tyson ain't worth shit.
Mike Tyson feels safer in here.
And why do you think that is?
I know what you're trying to do.
You're trying to say
this is Allah's way
of telling me
to leave The Game behind.
Devote my life to what?
Look, I walk out
these doors tomorrow.
I don't need no more
riddles or stories,
none of that bullshit.
Just tell me what
the fuck I need to do.
Mike Tyson.
You serve no one but Allah.
And with that knowledge,
you can choose
whatever path you want.
Man, I was terrified
to walk out those doors.
My life was so
out of control out there.
In prison, I made
the rules and I ran things.
In prayer,
I was finally able to make
all those outside voices
shut the fuck up.
Peace and mercy
in Allah be on you.
Peace and mercy in Allah
be on you.
What if I
couldn't fight no more?
I was just so scared
you guys were gonna hate me.
But I was
just as scared of going back
to the old, fucked up Mike.
The guy who had everyone,
including me,
convinced I was gonna
end up in an early grave.
Those were my choices.
I could go back
to being Cus's monster.
Don's meal ticket.
Or I could be
the elevated man Ray Ray,
Imam Siddiq,
and Maya saw inside of me...
That I wanted to be.
And I had to decide now.