50 Cent: I think shock is the best way to describe how I felt when my mother died.

Curtis ’50 Cent’ Jackson

In a letter of sorts to his younger self (in Big Issue), Curtis ’50 Cent’ Jackson’ opens up about losing his mother to violence and grandmother to cancer, hustling and survival. Peep a few excerpts.

At 16 I had already been involved in street life for years [50 Cent started dealing drugs at 12]. I was aggressive enough to get by on the street – but then I’d go home and be my grandmother’s baby. I was outside hustling but I still had to talk my grandmother into letting me walk home from school myself. I said to her, look, I’m bigger than you now.

I came to live in my grandmother’s house when some of my mother’s eight siblings were still there [his mother, a cocaine dealer, was murdered when he was eight]. My aunt Sylvie, she hated me being there. She had been the baby, then suddenly it was me. My grandmother would look at me and there would be a little moment when she wouldn’t say anything, then she’d say, come on here baby. And I said to Sylvie, do you notice she always pauses and looks at me before she speaks to me? And Sylvie said, yeah. ‘Cause everyone noticed. And I said, I think she sees my mother’s face on top of mine.

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It scared me half to death when my grandmother was diagnosed with cancer. My aunt would call me with updates all the time and she always said, don’t worry, she’s fine. I’ve never told anyone this but two years ago, the day she called to tell me… It was early in the morning and I was on a treadmill in the gym. I got to the hospital and the whole family was there. My aunt told me the doctor said she’d had a stroke and there was nothing they could do. They took me to her and she was the smallest I ever saw her. I said ‘Hello?’ I saw her eyes jump when she heard my voice, like she was trying to see where I was at. Everyone else left and I talked to her for a little bit. Then they all came back in and her heart rate started to drop. My aunt said, shit, she was waiting for you. I’ve seen a lot of people pass in the neighbourhood, I’ve lost them to motorcycles or altercations or drugs. But none of them impacted like when my grandmother died. She was the love of my life.

50 Cent

I felt I had to do whatever it took to get by. The stuff that came out of my mouth when I was outside the house – wow, that kid was crazy. I was the youngest in the pack, everyone else was at least 16. People told my grandmother stuff I’d done and she’d say, nope, not my baby. We all wanted nice things, nice clothes, because we wanted to attract girls. So we had to hustle to afford them.

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