My homie that I grew up skating with made alotta beats for a lotta big names:
I one time got caught smoking weed with the kid that produced all those beats one time in our homie's paren't attic; we were 13 and my homie a few years older than us just sold us our first and only quarter ounce of sherm. I took one big toke off a jibber i rolled out of a piece of a photocopy of my middleschool schedule, exhaled out the window and proceded to trip over an aerobics ball that was lying on the carpeted floor. Could have sworn that aerobics ball was a pile of metal pans at the time and heard the sound of a bunch of metal pans clanging around in my ear before my first journey to the sweet world of angel dust land.