" she let the sentence trail off, the question implied."In the lobby," I replied, not having a better suggestion at the moment."OK. Go get some food. ...t could be the last for a while," she said, as she walked into the bathroom.I walked over and kissed Christine who only grumbled a little and began stretching herself. I let myself out of the room and headed down to the lobby. Breakfast was not on the menu it would seem. Instead there was bad coffee and a couple of slippery looking donuts. I. I don’t know what it is about hip hop, but being around it all my life makes me love it. The funny thing is, I don’t consider myself a rapper. I consider myself a poet. I’ve had this conversation with my cousin, who is a rapper and who I repeatedly sit in on studio sessions on and write. You’d be amazed at my muse and how fast it goes.“Yo, what you writing?" Jay, my cousin, the rapper said.“Eh, nothing much. Just another cover rap to a song. Since y’all won’t let me on the track. I mean, shit,”. More

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