People have mistaken your birthday for DJ Screw’s birthday. Have you made an effort to clear the air?
A lot of people who know me always fought for me. People will say it was Screw’s birthday, Big Moe’s birthday, Pokey’s birthday…hell, it might have been your birthday. The people who know me, it hurt them the most. They know the work I put into the music and how my heart is in it. It hurts them more than it hurts me.
In the beginning, I used to get mad, too. Then, people are dying. How long can you be mad? It takes a lot of muscles to make a frown.
I used to take it as disrespect, but then I realized this is
bigger than me. It’s bigger than DeMo. It’s historical. It’s groundbreaking. It’s Houston. It’s the lifestyle. I had to accept that it was bigger than me.
As a friend of DJ Screw, what are some ways you honor his memory since his passing?
Just by jamming Screw, keeping his name moving, saying his name, keeping him alive, having flashbacks, and like I say, jam. I jam what I was listening to then, still right now. I jam some of the new rap, but not too much because it’s weird to me. And I know it’s supposed to be weird because I’m older.
The 30th anniversary of the Screw Tapes is this year, but at the end of the day, it’s still your special day. How do you plan to celebrate your birthday?
I want to be here. That’s my main thing: being here. Usually, on my birthday, I like to get in the car by myself. I hit neighborhoods of people that I know—people in Fifth Ward that know me. I like to ride and bless people with my presence that aren’t used to getting it. Last year, I was home, and I had a lot of people at my house barbecuing, because, you know, I can’t be touched when it comes to barbecue.
