Undisputed Truth: My Autobiography

I was a pudgy kid, very shy, almost effeminate shy, and I spoke with a lisp.

We headed back to the hotel. Little did I know, but about thirty cars were following my limo, all filled with women. They had been on our tail since I left the club. When I got out of the limo in front of the Ritz, EB was waiting for me. But first, I walked over to each of the cars that followed us, pulled out my roll of cash, and threw hundred-dollar bills on each car.
“What the hell are you doin’, Mike?” EB said.
“That’s all they want. Money,” I said.
I walked into the hotel, EB beside me.
“What are you doing here?” I said to him.
“I’m waiting on you,” EB answered.
“I don’t need nobody waiting on me. I came into this world by myself and I’m going to leave by myself,” I said.
“Well, I got to stay with you for the night, so you’ve just got to get mad at me,” EB said.
We got into the elevator to go up to the room.
By then, I was hungry, so we got off the elevator and went to the restaurant. This little white dude came up to us and said, “Sorry, Mr. Tyson, the restaurant is closed.”
I grabbed the guy around the neck, picked him up and said, “Feed me, don’t treat me like no nigga.”
Fifteen minutes later, we had an amazing spread before us. I ate all my food, then started in on EB’s too. Suddenly I broke down.
“Man, why’d she do me like that?”
I still hadn’t gotten over Robin.
“Man, take it easy,” EB said.
“That bitch. I loved her. She didn’t have to do me like that,” I moaned.
My mood was spiraling downward, so EB pulled out his phone and called Isaiah Thomas’s mother, Mary. She was a beautiful lady. Mary started consoling me and after a few minutes, I felt better.
It seemed that every time I went out, trouble was following in my wake. Sometimes it wasn’t even my fault. I once was in New York and picked up this Spanish girl.

The same time I was running with Hope, I started hanging out with this incredible guy named Kevin Sawyer. He had a pager company in L.A. and his store had become a hangout spot for all the players, hustlers, and pimps. Jamie Foxx and Joe Torry worked there before they were famous. It was a business place. People would go in to buy pagers and I would be there shooting dice in my Versace clothes with my big diamond watches and my Rolls parked outside.
Kevin was an incredible ladies’ man. He was very charismatic and the women loved him, even though he stuttered. Me and Kevin and my friend Craig Boogie would have competitions to see how many women we could get in a day. The sex scene was crazy then. I’d meet girls on the street, say, “Come, let’s go,” and we’d go. I’d be in a club and I’d be touching girls, putting my tongue on their backs, licking their skin, and I didn’t even know them. But I’d take them home and let my friends have sex with them too. My reputation began to spread. I was the guy who might take you shopping, but then we would go home to have sex.
One time, Boogie was driving me around Philadelphia. I was there training for the Buster Mathis Jr. fight. I saw a beautiful girl walking down the street. I didn’t even have to say anything to her; the girl just hopped right in the back of the car.
“Where are we going?” she said.
Another time I was in a cab in New York with this girl I had met. She started taking off her clothes in the cab and having sex with me. It wasn’t even a limo; it was a regular yellow cab. I was, like, “Whoa. Okay, let’s go.”
In my mind I was ordained to do this. All my heroes had had all these women. Someone should have said to me, “This is going to have an ugly ending.” But there was nobody there to do that.