Nobody Ever Said The Rap Game Was Going To Be Easy: The Daily Nooner (EST)!

Iron Mic: Eli Porter Vs. Envy

It was a brisk autumn afternoon in 2003 and there I was, sitting at the Iron Mic Freestyle Battle at Chamblee High School in Atlanta. That was nothing out of the ordinary, though; Eli Porter and I were pretty tight back then, and Envy and Marv-O were always joking around with me. Envy would always ask me, "Who are you and why are you hanging out at our high school?" "Good one, my man!" I'd reply with a hearty laugh, holding my hand up for a high-five. Then Marv-O would say, "No, seriously - Envy, go get security in here," and I'd point at my still-raised hand and say, "Don't leave me hangin', bro!" Then security would come and escort me off school property, knowing full well that I'd be back the next week and we'd do the whole thing all over again. That was like our little inside joke.

Anyway, I remember this particular day very clearly. It was a day or two after the judge told me I wasn't allowed within 200 yards of Chamblee High School, and Eli Porter and I were sitting in the school cafeteria. Eli was working on some lyrics, but he seemed really nervous.

"If you're nervous about battling Envy, don't even sweat it," I said. "You're a way better rapper than he is."

"I'm going to call security," he said without even looking up from his notebook.

"This is no time for inside jokes," I replied. "You need to get your head in the game if you're going to beat this guy."

"Dude, how old are you? Why are you always hanging out at our high school?"

"It doesn't matter," I said. "The point is this: Envy is a total chump. Seriously - the guy is like Rosie O'Donnell at a bisexual bridal shower."

Eli looked up at me wide-eyed, and starting scribbling furiously in his notebook. Emboldened I went on, spitting potentially awesome science to be dropped.

"Envy doesn't even need to come out, because he's already in a gay parade," I said. "You're the best, man - you did it." Eli slammed his notebook shut, got up and went racing into the studio. He didn't need to thank me, and the police were already dragging me out of the school, so it was kind of a moot point anyway.

I guess what I'm trying to say is this: It's my fault that Eli Porter lost this rap battle. Do I feel good about that? Of course not, but you know what?

Nobody ever said the rap game was going to be easy.