Name: Devlon
Hometown: South Dallas, TX
Hustle: Hard Work and Music
Interests: Numbers, Basketball, Hip-Hop, Kicking It.
My nigga Devlon, man. It's hard to believe that this guy, who I met the summer before his freshman year of college and was introduced to him by my little brother as, The big brother who didn't believe in wearing underwear, has become such an important part of my life. This south Dallas HardHead ski-mask goon right here and I were the first to convene at the Traphouse over a heap of marijuana and school of blunts getting as high as that green eyed temptress would allow. He's seen the height of my extravagance and my lowest pitfalls. And throughout it all, whether good or bad, he's been down for his nigga Bornfree one-hundred percent. If I ever went to war, as I'm sure this music is likely to take me, though I wouldn't think twice before choosing Devlon, he wouldn't even allow me to think to choose him because my motherfucking homeboy would be right there with me, fists cocked ready to dump some fools off for me. It's not often that I run into a cat that's both a legitimate ass homie and a down ass soldier. Devlon is without a doubt, the first. And it's not only his brute that he contributes to the crew, were I not the oldest, he'd be the brains of the operation. Devlon is my second-in-command. Schemes, hustles, details and NUMBERS are all weapons Devlon is well equipped with. A street scholar, especially where we hail, is extremely hard to find, and lucky for me, I roll with one of the very few. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about my homeboy because I refuse to reach any imaginable height without him. I like to think of myself as a big brother to him. I care so much about this dude that I try to not even conduct business without him. Even his own family looks at our friendship as a brotherhood. There's only one person in this world that is more my brother than Devlon and that's the cat who introduced me to him, my little brother Rikki. When I reached the darkest hour of my life and when all else had abandoned, disregarded and turned against me, Devlon was there tirelessly, keeping my spirits up, the liquor pouring and the smoke in the air. I've gained and lost homeboys in the past and even had individuals I personally identified "brothers" fall to insignificance in the wake of misfortune but never has Devlon gave me any reason, even for a second, to doubt his friendship and loyalty to the crew as a whole. I can only say so much that the human tongue would allow to convey the impact Devlon has had on my life. But ultimately, all I can say is: That's my nigga. And there are no other words to convey it.
Ladies and Gentlemen, the brain and the braun, Devlon aka Kane Jetson
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