It was four o’clock in the morning and we were recording my first album in Philly, when I was 18. I was with [producers] Dre and Vidal and a couple of their homies. They had five real small pocket bikes that went 75mph. In the middle of recording, we got on the things and rode all through Philly. I had never been on one of those little bikes. We was riding for about 30 minutes. I’m ballin’ and had been accident-free the whole time. We get in the parking lot, and I’m in front of everybody, going 60mph. We were wildin’. Then I hit a pothole. I flew over [the handlebars] and landed on my knee. I had to go straight to the hospital. My knee was swollen like a melon for two weeks. I couldn’t walk on it; they put me on crutches. I f***ed the bike up. Coincidentally, it was Kamal, the homie from the Roots’ bike. He was there after the fact. Ni**as had to tell him—Dre and Vidal were laughing, so it made things that much worse. He was like, “Damn, this ni**a f***ed my bike up.” But I ain’t pay for it. He was straight. I was broke; I was a new artist. I could’ve really hurt myself. I would have never got on no motorcycle and rode for real. But this one seemed like a little motorcycle that couldn’t hurt nobody. All through the hood, they was poppin’ for a second, and then they were banned from the streets. AS TOLD TO TOSHITAKA KONDO.