Vic Mensa recently dropped a wild story about the Italian mob that helped push him toward sobriety.
The Chicago rapper shared the tale online Sunday without revealing exactly when or where it went down, just mentioning he was on tour with a club appearance scheduled.
According to Mensa, he showed up drunk to his friend’s DJ set the night before his gig and noticed his “manager surrounded by people I didn’t recognize.”
His friend immediately handed him a fifth of D’ussé Cognac, a blunt, and a bottle of Ace of Spades champagne.
Next thing he knew, Mensa spotted his friend in the crowd shouting, “Vic!” When he went over, his friend told him, “G, they just choked me and dragged me out the club, and they not even security.” Confused, Mensa asked, “Who? Who did this to you?”
Vic Mensa continues his wild story by explaining how his friend pointed to a nearby guy who had roughed him up.
“I’m a nut so I already had the bottle of Ace of Spades in my hand. Boom, I crashed his ass. Immediately, this shit turned into a melee. I told you, I only got one friend in the building. Now this shit not going well. I’m getting punched up, down like a cartoon, fists in a cloud,” Vic laughed.
“I’m getting wrestled by eight n**as at one time, no Diddy. Next thing I know, I too am getting choked out the club. I’m dolo in the alley. I see a black Suburban truck. I’m thinking this shit a fairy tale. I’m thinking this motherfucker is sent by God to save me. This not my car at all. I try to open the door, the n***a locked the door on me.”
He then described sprinting down the alley because people were chasing him.
“It’s a random person on the street, they talking about some, ‘Run Forrest, run!’ At this point, I’m going into cardiac arrest—I can’t breathe. I make it back to my hotel; I can finally breathe. I’m coming to. So now, I get tough as fuck, I’m like, ‘These n***as should have never fucked with me.’ I thought I was Suge Knight in this shit.
“My mans called me who I didn’t even know was in that city at that time” Mensa said. “He was like, ‘Man, g. That was the Italian mob. They finna kill you.’ I couldn’t breathe right again.”
He then reached out to his “big homie” in Chicago, who negotiated a $10,000 settlement. Mensa still had to perform at the club the next night.
“When I tell you my section was so motherfucking dry,” Mensa said. “It wasn’t no hoes in my shit. I got these eight big-ass 7-foot Africans with me. Man, long story short, I get the bread, I pay the mob. Oh yeah, but that’s another one of the reasons why I don’t drink.”
