This is one of the hardest things I ever had to do. I’ve never had to go through albums of photographs that I took of a family member after they passed away.
I’ve never had to go through albums of photographs that I took of a family member after they passed away.
Add to it, the circumstances. You can imagine the tears I had to beat off my face. Please excuse any mistakes and errors.
The shitty thing about being a photographer is that you don’t ever get to be in pictures and that’s probably what sucks the most.
I have some, of him, when he came to be a guest on my show. I remember telling him he was special. I remember telling him that his music was special. I remember tweeting that he was my favorite rapper in the city. Given who I was on the scene, I got alot of flak for being a “homer” and showing favoritism to my nigga.
Thanks to your consistency, Nes, and your productivity and your work ethic, you validated my opinions.
I remember asking him to be on my show and he said he had never been interviewed. I told him to just pull up and “I got you. All we going to do is talk. Just me and you. We gonna pretend noone is listening.”
That’s how every one of our interactions went. I’m going to miss him so much.
My nigga was so balanced. If you needed a shirt, he would give you his. If you need to pull up on someone, he would drive you. If you needed to talk it out, he would mediate. The beautiful thing about him was that he always knew when to do what. He always thought things through. Sometimes he even overanalyzed things.
He truly was a stupid genius.
I’m honored that you called me whenever you needed to be photographed and never asked me how much I wanted but always asked me how much I needed. I’m honored you called me bro. I’m honored you called me friend.
I’m going to miss you so much. I’m never going to forget you. I love you bro.
Watch over me,