The Autobiography of Gucci Mane #

Introduction. #

Story presented by Gucci Mane, telling his struggle to become recognized from Zone 6 days to pretty much modern days. Book depicts numerous charges and prison sentences rapper had to face, his encounters of famous industry people (Zaytoven, Scott Storch, Young Jeezy, Rick Ross, 2Chainz…), his discovery of Migos, Future and others. Childhood memories, story of his family, violent neighbourhoods, drug-wars, gangs, musical inspirations etc. Everything that shaped him.

Book consists of three parts.

Quick summary. #

Rapper takes us to his roots in Alabama, introduces to his family, childhood, East Atlanta streets, trap house and the studio. He reflects on his inimitable career and in the process recollects his dark past - murder and drug charges, prison time, addiction, highs and lows in musical path.

Memorable quotes. #

On removing gangs from Atlanta for ‘96 Olympic Games:

…Taking one big gang out just made room for the smaller ones to step up. When they did, they clashed. The violence continued. The drugs continued. Same shit, different toilet. .

Life progressed. So did Gucci. Starting from selling marijuana in elementary school later on he moved to selling cocaine.

It wasn’t like with the weed, … . This was a totally different kind of product with a totally different type of clientele.

On drugs:

I’d interacted with countless fiends and they were so f***ed-up and broke it turned me off to the idea of getting high. My buddies had been pressing me to smoke weed for years but I’d resisted. As a hustler I felt above using. It seemed lame to me. Plus I wasn’t about to let my friends peer-pressure me.

School beef:

BP was fired up that morning. There was only one reason this n***a was headed back to his alma mater and that was to whoop some ass.

On becoming a rapper:

As much as I was into rap, the idea of becoming a rapper always seemed lame to me.

Doing jail time:

I get how for someone on the outside looking in, jail is an interesting place. Fortunately, for most people it’s a world they’ll never see. But the truth is that most of the time jail is just super boring. A whole lot of doing nothing.

I highly regard the early era of CMR (which brought to life B.G.’s He Used 2 Be A Man, Bling Bling, Juvenile’s Back that thing up etc) and No-Limit in general (Mystikal especially). And Gucci here refers to these artirts:

I knew Project Pat did the shit he was rapping about. Can’t nobody tell me different. I knew C-Murder did what he said. I knew Soulja Slim did what he said. I knew BG did what he said.

On trap:

When I think about trap I think about something raw. Something that hasn’t been diluted. Something with no polish on it. Music that sounds as grimy as the world that it came out of.

Family ties and business:

Damn. I’d gotten my cousin arrested and his buddy’s house burned down. And my family heard all about it. Even my brother was turned off by the trouble I was bringing around. He told my cousins they shouldn’t mess with me anymore. It hurt to see my family turn their backs on me but not enough to change anything. I was relentless.

Drugs altering business conduct:

The lean had messed me up, but it wasn’t until a few days later that I fully felt the effects of the drug. Out of nowhere, it seemed, I was totally out of my mind. It was like I couldn’t control my thoughts. I found myself doing irrational shit I would never do normally, like giving people stupid deals on dope. I was thrown off, but I didn’t yet make the connection to the lean. Maybe I’ve been smoking too much. Maybe someone put something in my drink at the Waffle House and tried to poison me. I was still tripping when I got back to Atlanta a few days later and my symptoms had gotten worse than selling people dope on the cheap. My behavior was f***ed up.

Becoming pregnant because of lean:

By that point I was drinking it first thing in the morning and last thing at night to fall asleep. My stomach had ballooned to the size of a watermelon. I looked pregnant. Even then I wasn’t ready to hear that. I couldn’t accept that this drug had become my kryptonite.

On meeting his fan:

Before we left, Shawty Redd told me he wanted to introduce me to someone he’d been working with who was a fan of mine. His name was Young Jeezy. He had him on the phone.

On meeting Juvenile:

I wasn’t interested in paying that much money for a Juvenile beat. I didn’t even know the **g*a made beats.

Fulton county prison:

I haven’t exactly tested out every jail in the country, but I can tell you there ain’t too many places like Fulton County. That place has got to be one of the most fucked-up correctional facilities in the United States.

Fulton County Jail was not like DeKalb County, where I’d just spent a week before making bond on my murder charge and done my sixty-seven days back in 2002. DeKalb was heavily policed, with a bunch of old, white, racist good ol’ boy COs running the show. They love fucking with n**gas in there.

Solitary confinement:

But the hole started f**king with me. With no human contact the only person I could talk to was myself, and I was saying crazy things, over and over again until I believed them. My thoughts became consumed by how many people had gotten convicted for murders they hadn’t committed. More and more I started thinking that my life could be over. Over what? Nothing. Some song.

Pot belly:

A known side effect of codeine is constipation and all the drank sitting in my stomach had given me a gut. I didn’t give a *c. My little potbelly wasn’t stopping these beautiful women from wanting to ***k me. The lean would have me so nonchalant and relaxed, it would only make them want me more.

Growing anxious and feeding pigeons:

I returned to reality, if only momentarily, when a staff member informed us we would require extra security before we could enter. Moments later ten LAPD officers showed up and proceeded to debate whether I was allowed in the venue. I’d seen other celebrities arrive and walk in without a problem. Why was this happening to me? Why the fuck would these people invite me here and then do this to me? I grew increasingly agitated. It was too little, too late by the time we were allowed to enter the Nokia Theatre. The flash of cameras from the media only angered me more. It felt like they were taunting me. I pulled out the ten-thousand-dollar stack in my pocket and threw it in their faces. I kept replaying the incident in my head during my flight back to Atlanta the next day. Me standing there on the white carpet of the VMAs, watching reporters fight over hundred-dollar bills like I was feeding pigeons. That was so stupid. Why the fuck would I do that?

On losing his mind:

A plea of mental incompetency was warranted. I’d lost my damn mind.

Gucci on chick demanding to take her to her job at Buckhead.

The arguing continued until I put that bitch out of my car, but let me be clear on this. I don’t think I put this girl in no danger. But she went out and got herself a lawyer and demanded fifteen thousand dollars, claiming that my car was in motion and she was tumbling down the street or something.

On Georgia Diagnostic and Classification Prison in Jackson:

I swear the rats were the size of cats in that place. I never thought I’d be so happy to be back at Fulton County when I was transferred back three weeks later.

Tough guys and the rap game:

In the rap game there are so many people who feel like they need to keep the tough-guy shit going 24/7 and can’t even hold a conversation.

United States Penitentiary in Terre Haute:

The United States Penitentiary in Terre Haute was not like the federal facilities I’d just come from in Lovejoy, Leavenworth, or Oklahoma City. …I was surrounded by lifers and men on death row. The Aryan Brotherhood, MS-13, Crips, Bloods, mob bosses, terrorists…. But I’m a man wherever you land me. Regardless of where that is or who is in front of me, there’s a standard that I hold myself to and a certain level of respect I expect to be treated with. That ain’t even on some tough-guy shit. Hell, I was scared too. When people talk about prison you often hear them talk about wolves and sheep. To survive you’ve got to be a wolf. But here it was all wolves. Tough guys were getting killed here every day. You could be Gucci. You could be Al Capone. It didn’t matter because they’d kill your ass the same. This was a place full of men with nothing to lose. There were nights I lay in bed and I could hear the sound of someone sharpening shanks. I prayed those knives weren’t meant for me.

On faith:

I remembered that as low as my lows had gotten, I always had faith in myself. That I always knew if I could get past those temporary moments, eventually I’d be up again. Jail couldn’t beat me. Lean couldn’t beat me. No situation could beat me. I was the only one who could beat me.

Physical fitness:

With the way my stomach had gotten, for years I hadn’t been able to fit into a lot of the clothes I wanted to wear. I started with a run up and down a flight of steps. It was all I could do and I was out of breath. Then I ran up and down twice. Then three times. The next day I did five. A week later I did twenty. Very quickly the routine became like another addiction to me and between that and barely eating the snack food they serve in county jail, the pounds started falling right off. I wasn’t the only one who noticed.

35 years prison sentence:

This was bad. Very bad. I had two weapons charges. One from when I got arrested by the Kroger on Moreland and one from the incident the day before at my lawyer’s office. Each of those charges carried up to ten years in prison. Then I still had my open assault case in Fulton County to deal with. Between the feds and the state of Georgia I was facing thirtyfive years. Fuck.

Self improvement:

I followed the changes I’d made to my body by working to strengthen my mind. I was devouring books. A lot of self-help, inspirational stuff. Tony Robbins. Deepak Chopra. Malcolm Gladwell. James Allen. The biographies of Pimp C. and Jimi Hendrix. Mike Tyson’s autobiography.

Conclusion. #

Gucci did what he intended - masterfully presented his upbringing and jounrey to become a rap legend. Unlike most rappers who promote derogatory lifestyle author shows that but there is more to it than that. Gucci was able to overcome his drug addictions, and rebuilt himself. Truly inspiring story.