Mike Tyson: Undisputed Truth Page #3

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Ready to rob me

of my brightest day.

You know, this is the only picture

I have of my mother, Lorna May.

But it's a good one.

She seemed like she must

have been happy that day.

I wish I knew

more about her.

I know when

she took this picture,

she never imagined her boy

would make it out of Brownsville

unless I did it in some

handcuffs or a wooden box.

You know, I didn't come

from a place where memories

are cherished and displayed

proudly in a photo album.

I came from the gutter.

A place where dreams

are broken

and memories

are best forgotten.

Welcome to Brownsville.

Our motto is

"never run and never will. "

As a matter of fact,

right here is my block.

178 Amboy Street.

- Anybody know where that's at?

- ( cheering )

My memories are

of this place right, well...

well, not this place. I don't

remember it looking like this.

I remember broken windows,

graffiti,

dog sh*t on the sidewalk.

"A tree grows

in Brooklyn," my ass.

Spike...

Spike shot this sh*t

a few weeks before

our Broadway run.

But now there's white people

in the neighborhood,

as you know,

the Whole Foods.

And you know, once those

white people move in,

there goes

the neighborhood.

They will lock

your ass up.

At that time leaving

Bed-Stuy, "do or die,"

moving to Brownsville,

"never ran, never will,"

it was equivalent

to being born in hell

and then the devil

took you and moved you

into his toilet where he

could sh*t on you real good.

And that's what he did

to me and my family.

I can still see myself

and my friends

roaming the streets at all

hours of the day and night.

And I hung out

with a tough crew of kids.

But my street friends

were my family, of course.

And we all knew no one

was gonna give us anything.

We knew if we wanted anything,

we had to take it.

And that's

what we did a lot.

I'm 10 years old

right here.

I remember I scored a couple of

hundred bucks on a robbing spree.

I used to be a good

pickpocket back then.

I bought that new jacket,

this bomber jacket,

and I took this photo

at Woolworth's in a photo booth.

You remember Woolworth's?

Pitkin Avenue?

Woolworth's?

After taking this picture,

I caught the 14 bus

off Pitkin Avenue.

I went to Utica

Roller Skating Rink

to meet up with some

friends of mine.

Since we didn't

have nothing,

we took pride

in looking good.

Our clothes played a great role in

our identity and our self-esteem.

You weren't sh*t unless you

had some shell-toe Adidas

or straight-legged

jeans from Lee,

a Kangol hat and those big

stupid Star Wars ski goggles

even though

we couldn't ski.

Day of robbing spree would

also include keeping our eyes

on the other little kids in the neighborhood

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