thinking the police were going to show up to my house any
day now to take me to jail.
And I decided I quit. No more dancing, no more Bar
Mitzvahs, nothing. I was done. I stopped doing them. DJ
Timbo was calling me and calling me, telling me people
were requesting me.
Tiffany: “I can’t do it, I can’t. I just can’t right now.
This is not a good time. I don’t feel safe.”DJ Timbo: “Tiffany, they are asking for you specifically.
They want you there.”Tiffany: “I don’t feel like people should be around me.
I’m not safe.”DJ Timbo: “Tiffany, your ass is not deadly.”Tiffany: “No, my ass is deadly. That man is dead.”DJ Timbo: “Tiĉany, that man was old. It was his time.
He was probably happy. It was probably the mrst time
he ever danced with a black girl in his life. It was the
happiest moment of his life.”But Timbo couldn’t talk me into doing them. ͳat man
hadn’t wanted to dance at mrst, and I made him, and then I
booty popped him . . . and now he’s dead! I just felt like a
booty assassin.
ͳen, I got a letter from his daughter. She tipped me—