The band just isn't going anywhere. You like those guys, but you feel they are holding you back. You announce that your out. You begin rapping to beats you play on a drum machine your friends have pooled money together for. You get gigs about once every nine weeks that pay next to nothing. You live in a hole in a alley. You eat from trash cans and you have a roach eating service. For two dollars an hour you will eat all the roaches you can. Poor humans find this amusing and you make about eighteen dollars a week at it.