Before the alter-ego "Papito Saucey" dominated his daily lifestyle, he went by the name of...Mike...Edwards
By: Gio Mio
What separates someone who is good from legendary? A good rapper would dominate the genre for maybe a year or two, but a legendary one leaves a lasting legacy. Little did I know that when I started my time at Saint Anthony's High School in 2007, I was going to meet someone who not only become my best friend, but change the high school rap scene.
"You know who it is, man I don't gotta say it." When I first heard these words from Michael Joseph Edwards on his track 'Do My Thang,' I was flabbergasted. Not even half a minute ago in the same song, he said "It's yo boy Mike Edwards." If I already know who you're supposed to be, why are you saying your name? At first this is just a confusing ploy to grab attention. It's a regular occurrence on his mixtape Born A Soldier, Raised A Fighter. Yet when you go back on it a decade after its original release, it's sheer genius.
I remember where I was when this mixtape first dropped. I met Mike through T-Millzz during my freshman year of high school. Millzz told me about his best friend who was a rapper and just released a mixtape. My original thought was that he was recording in some high quality studio and had a label deal. But sure to my dismay all he did was go in his parents's basement with a cheap microphone and record on his old computer. That's okay though, it's about the quality of the music over the sound. If the lyrics can jump out at me, I'll definitely enjoy it.
My original listen to the mixtape throughout was just like my reaction on 'Do My Thang.' Some of the lyrics Mike were rapping were the most generic metaphors I've heard. This dude had the audacity to say "I supply that beef, just like Burger King" TWICE IN A ROW. Oh, but the corniness and "What the...?" moments kept adding up. Who can forget when he said "I'm from the hood but my family's not ghetto"? Or when before every song you heard a mouse click so he could play the beat in the background while rapping on the microphone?
Mike wasn't a happy man when I told Millzz my honest original thoughts of the record. Long story short, I told Mike that he sounded like he was forced to rap and that he needs to "add more emphasis to his words." After that moment and taking $20 from me in a pickup game of basketball, Edwards and I remain best friends to this day.
Just like Edwards going from my mortal enemy to my closest friend, my thoughts of Born A Soldier, Raised A Fighter have changed to a more positive light. Let's be honest, when you look back on everything you've done back in the day you can see where you can improve. There are some Facebook photos I wish I didn't take, some articles I wished I proofread more, etc. Born A Soldier, Raised A Fighter's importance came from the movement it started. Not that long after the mixtape dropped, I remember multiple friends from high school starting their rap careers, including Millzz himself. Everyone saw it as a cool thing to do, and something they thought they could accomplish.
Mike went from being a Pokemon saying his name repetitively to using his platform and improving his lyrics. And as those lyrics improved so did his audience. I remember when Mike became one of the popular kids in school everyone would ask me and Millzz for copies of his mixtape. His mixtape releases became the news of the community, as he would just drop random freestyles to promote the songs he was recording. And it all started with a guy who said "Call me Holy Father, AKA Mr. Trinity."
Born A Soldier, Raised A Fighter is the mixtape equivalent of the movie The Room. For those unfamiliar with The Room, I highly recommend watching it. Directed, written, edited by and starring Tommy Wiseau, the movie was so terrible it became good and gathered a cult following. It took time, but over time Wiseau was able to turn a failure of a project into a successful business to help build his financial empire. Mike, just like Wiseau, didn't let negative words and reception ruin him. He's able to laugh at it now when I open podcasts with his songs. Or when I blast this mixtape in the car. Everyone in Saint Anthony's from 2007-2011 knew this mixtape, and know this is the guilty pleasure on their music playlists.
It's crazy to believe a decade after this mixtape was released I'm writing about the impact it had on me and everyone we know on our own blog. But that's what happens when time flies. You have fun, you make some jokes, and you work your butt off to make something of yourself. While Mike's style of rap has changed, he still makes some of the best music I hear in today's rap scene. He's still one of my best friends, and while he may be ignorant and a wild card at clubs, he can still get it going. Hata what you lookin at?
What separates someone who is good from legendary? A good rapper would dominate the genre for maybe a year or two, but a legendary one leaves a lasting legacy. Little did I know that when I started my time at Saint Anthony's High School in 2007, I was going to meet someone who not only become my best friend, but change the high school rap scene.
"You know who it is, man I don't gotta say it." When I first heard these words from Michael Joseph Edwards on his track 'Do My Thang,' I was flabbergasted. Not even half a minute ago in the same song, he said "It's yo boy Mike Edwards." If I already know who you're supposed to be, why are you saying your name? At first this is just a confusing ploy to grab attention. It's a regular occurrence on his mixtape Born A Soldier, Raised A Fighter. Yet when you go back on it a decade after its original release, it's sheer genius.
I remember where I was when this mixtape first dropped. I met Mike through T-Millzz during my freshman year of high school. Millzz told me about his best friend who was a rapper and just released a mixtape. My original thought was that he was recording in some high quality studio and had a label deal. But sure to my dismay all he did was go in his parents's basement with a cheap microphone and record on his old computer. That's okay though, it's about the quality of the music over the sound. If the lyrics can jump out at me, I'll definitely enjoy it.
My original listen to the mixtape throughout was just like my reaction on 'Do My Thang.' Some of the lyrics Mike were rapping were the most generic metaphors I've heard. This dude had the audacity to say "I supply that beef, just like Burger King" TWICE IN A ROW. Oh, but the corniness and "What the...?" moments kept adding up. Who can forget when he said "I'm from the hood but my family's not ghetto"? Or when before every song you heard a mouse click so he could play the beat in the background while rapping on the microphone?
Mike wasn't a happy man when I told Millzz my honest original thoughts of the record. Long story short, I told Mike that he sounded like he was forced to rap and that he needs to "add more emphasis to his words." After that moment and taking $20 from me in a pickup game of basketball, Edwards and I remain best friends to this day.
Just like Edwards going from my mortal enemy to my closest friend, my thoughts of Born A Soldier, Raised A Fighter have changed to a more positive light. Let's be honest, when you look back on everything you've done back in the day you can see where you can improve. There are some Facebook photos I wish I didn't take, some articles I wished I proofread more, etc. Born A Soldier, Raised A Fighter's importance came from the movement it started. Not that long after the mixtape dropped, I remember multiple friends from high school starting their rap careers, including Millzz himself. Everyone saw it as a cool thing to do, and something they thought they could accomplish.
Mike went from being a Pokemon saying his name repetitively to using his platform and improving his lyrics. And as those lyrics improved so did his audience. I remember when Mike became one of the popular kids in school everyone would ask me and Millzz for copies of his mixtape. His mixtape releases became the news of the community, as he would just drop random freestyles to promote the songs he was recording. And it all started with a guy who said "Call me Holy Father, AKA Mr. Trinity."
Born A Soldier, Raised A Fighter is the mixtape equivalent of the movie The Room. For those unfamiliar with The Room, I highly recommend watching it. Directed, written, edited by and starring Tommy Wiseau, the movie was so terrible it became good and gathered a cult following. It took time, but over time Wiseau was able to turn a failure of a project into a successful business to help build his financial empire. Mike, just like Wiseau, didn't let negative words and reception ruin him. He's able to laugh at it now when I open podcasts with his songs. Or when I blast this mixtape in the car. Everyone in Saint Anthony's from 2007-2011 knew this mixtape, and know this is the guilty pleasure on their music playlists.
It's crazy to believe a decade after this mixtape was released I'm writing about the impact it had on me and everyone we know on our own blog. But that's what happens when time flies. You have fun, you make some jokes, and you work your butt off to make something of yourself. While Mike's style of rap has changed, he still makes some of the best music I hear in today's rap scene. He's still one of my best friends, and while he may be ignorant and a wild card at clubs, he can still get it going. Hata what you lookin at?