Where are you from?
East Harlem. One of my role models growing up was boxer Hector Camacho, who passed away a few weeks ago. I went to the funeral and wake.
Did you know him well?
No, but I knew people in his crew. He’d drive by in his red Ferrari, black Cadillac, or Corvette—he had so many cars—and if you said hello, he’d stop and say, “What’s up?” He was the people’s champion.
Ever pull any Camacho moves?
My mother bought me a leather bomber jacket in high school, and one day I got jumped by five guys in a subway station. I just zipped it up and swung in every direction the punches were coming from. One guy grabbed me by my waist, pulled me into a car, and said, “I had to get you in here or they were gonna kill you.” There are still some good people in New York.