I'll come to school in ripped jeans, boots, and a plaid overshirt with cut-off sleeves. Sitting in the back with my feet up on the chair in front of me, I can spout pithy catch-o lines at "teach" and sneer at the rest of the class. In the middle of a lecture I'll lean back, spit into the air, catch it in my mouth and belch. And then I'll confront a spoiled white girl about the superficiality of her problems compared to my tumultuous home life.
Hey, I've got the hair for it.