A long pause. Then, softer: “Peace. PS3 out.”
“They thought my hard drive crashed / Nah, I was just waiting for the right upload…” All Rap Files Ps3
The first line:
Dez sat in the dark. He replayed it three times. A long pause
Dez laughed. Then he listened to the next one. And the next. He replayed it three times
“Yo. This is Marcus. I’m 24 now. I work at a cell phone store. I haven’t rapped in six years. I sold that PS3 for bus fare to Atlanta. I never made it. But… thank you. For not deleting me.”
Dez became obsessed. He never met Marcus, but he knew him. He knew Marcus got better around track 400—his flow tightened, his metaphors sharpened. He knew Marcus nearly quit around track 589 (six straight files of just coughing and silence). He knew Marcus’s best friend was a producer named “DJ Cell-Shade” who only made beats using PS3 game soundtracks.