Since y’all won’t let me on the track. I mean, shit,” I said.Jay shook his head. “You know last time I let you rap on a track? It was bad, bro...”It was. Off rhythm, all that crap. That’s why I stick to songwriting.His partner, Jason, and my friend since high school walked in and slapped my hand in friendship.Yo, you ready?" he said to Jay.“Yeah.”Before long, I took my place in the oversized futon in the background, and started to write with my earphones in. Drake’s “Practice” familiar beat. ”“Then what happened?”“I don’t know, sir. Stewart and Kennedy don’t remember, either.”“What’s the next thing you remember?” Rogers asked harshly.“It was this morning, sir. I woke up in my bed and I found a note, sir.”“What did the note say?”“‘Nighty night. Sleep tight,’” he replied, sounding embarrassed.“Were you in your uniform when you woke up, Sergeant?”“No, sir.”“What were you wearing?“Nothing, sir.”“How about the other men?”“The same thing, sir.”“Did you all have notes?”“Yes, sir.”“Was. More

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