Transcript
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When I was young, my dad had a friend called Jack.
And Jack was a pimp.
And Jack used to come around the house and he was dark as night.
black as they come. He had this big Cadillac which he used to brag about but even as a child I could see it was old and shit.
Rusty.
and he had these hoes out on the track. And Jack used to come around and play chess with my dad.
My mom hated Jack.
Why are you bringing that man to his house? He's a criminal, he's a pimp, and he stinks, and he's coming here smelling the weed, blah, blah, blah.
but he always used to wear a baseball cap. He didn't really dress pimpy. He had like a baseball cap, normal clothes.
And he used to come around the house,
and he always had a little bit of money
So he'd burn whiskey,
and weed or whatever. My dad didn't really smoke weed too much, but he drunk. And they'd sit there
and play chess for hours and hours and hours. So there were long periods of history where I interacted with this guy called Jack.
Even me as a kid, I remember playing him and him beating me at first, and as I got better and better towards the end, I could beat Jack. He wasn't that strong a player.
but you used to enjoy playing, et cetera, et cetera.
So I knew who this guy Jack was.
And then one day,
I came downstairs and my father was sitting there with some whiskey in the morning.
I guess that's just what he did. He was a hero. And before school he said, "Come here, son."
He goes, "Have a sip of this whiskey." So I had some sip of the horrible whiskey.
You'll say a prayer for Jack.
And I didn't question my dad, so I just kind of went, okay, so close my eyes, perfect.
So I didn't think anything of it. Whatever.
Life carries on, blah, blah, blah.
Anyway, a couple weeks go by, I say, "Where the fuck's Jack? We haven't seen Jack in a long time. Jack doesn't come around anymore."
My dad said, "The day you said a prayer for Jack, one of his hoes
stabbed him to death when he was asleep.
I was like,
Okay, that's that. That's the end of the story. Now, there's probably a moral to this story, and I don't really know what it is, because I never met Jack's hose, and I don't know if he deserved it or not. I mean, obviously, he pissed him off.
Well, I found out a little bit later on from my father and another guy called Mike, which is another one of my dad's friends,
also got killed,
I grew up in Chicago. Everyone was dying all the time.
Um,
who got killed, is that Jack's hose killed him because they wanted to work for another pimp.
So another pimp convinced the hose to kill Jack.
So they stabbed him to death, whatever, whatever. I think the girl got caught and got life.
And
People always say to me like, for some reason, I don't know why, the most questions I get on this Tate Speech Channel are about my childhood. I don't know what it is. I think people are trying to understand how I've been formed into the brilliant man I am.
And one of them said, "What's the first red pill story you ever got about girls?"
And I guess this is the first story.
But this is not an anti-female story. This has nothing to do with females, this has nothing to do with don't trust girls, da da da.
This is about people.
And the reality of the world is, and I think you all already know this, is that people like you for as long as you are useful.
And as soon as the hoes realized that Jack was no longer useful to them, they wanted to get rid of him.
Now, in the civilized world, there's easy ways to get rid of people.
But in the underworld, there's only one way to get rid of somebody.
and you kill them.
And I guess that's my first lesson about people and about the world, and I understood this at a very, very young age.
So, how did I apply this to my life when I was only five or six years old? Well,
I literally remember walking out.
to my friends. After I found out Jack had died, I remember being on the bus and I said to one of my friends,
I remember, when I was a kid.
I said, "Hey, if you didn't need me anymore, would we still be friends?
And I remember the kid going, "Yeah?"
And I said, "Okay." And I was very satisfied.
with the answer. But when you grow up you realize that that answer is not good enough, so you need to keep that in mind. All the people you have around you and the people that like you and all your relationships, etc, etc,
The happiest ones are mutual when you need each other.
If one person needs one person, the other person doesn't need them back, it's going to go wrong sooner or later. So the reason I'm telling this story is because someone reminded me of it when asking about my childhood and now I want to look it up.
But I can't because this all happened before the age of the internet.
Nowadays you're so used to looking up things and getting details. I want to tell you guys more details, but what can I tell you?
I've tried typing everything into Google. Jack the Pimp.
Nothing comes up. Jack the pimp who played chess with my dad. Nothing comes up.
Jack the Pimp who is stabbed by his hoe.
So what can I say? There's nothing more to tell you. Moral of the story. People like you as long as they need you.
And if you're rolling with these hoes, especially the real trifling ones, the trifling ones are crazy.
Like I always hear people say to me, "Tate, you have all these girls. Have you never had a girl try and smash their car up?" No.
No, after 500 women, not a single woman has ever tried to smash my car up. Do you know why?
Because I don't associate with stupid, low-level, trash assholes. Every woman I know is nice.
Because I would not want to be around that kind of level of thoughtery and foolery.
Because if you want to fuck with my car, I'm going to have to fuck you up. And then you're going to go to your brother and he's going to try and fuck me up. I'm going to have to fuck him up. Before you know it, nephrite, zedbang, you're going to end up like Jack getting stabbed to sleep in your fucking hotel room.
Stay away from low-level people. Not just low-level women, low-level people in general. Because they bring you nothing but...
shame and pain.
Guaranteed.